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diff --git a/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/media/text/en/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst b/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/media/text/en/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst deleted file mode 100644 index 9c00f96..0000000 --- a/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/media/text/en/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst +++ /dev/null @@ -1,64633 +0,0 @@ -# SiSU 8.0 - -title: "War and Peace" - -creator: - author: "Tolstoy, Leo" - translator: "Maude, Aylmer; Maude, Louise Shanks" - -classify: - topic_register: "SiSU:markup sample:book;book:novel:historical romance|war novel;Russian:original text;original text language:Russian" - -rights: - copyright: "Leo Tolstoy 1869, translated by Aylmer Maude, Louise Shanks Maude" - license: "Public Domain" - -date: - published: "1869" - created: "1865" - issued: "1865" - available: "1865" - modified: "1869" - added_to_site: "2004-04-12" - -# @date.translated: - -# @language: -# :document: English -# :original: Russian - -make: - doc_type: "book" - breaks: "new=:B; break=1" - headings: - - BOOK|FIRST|SECOND - - none - - none - - CHAPTER - -links: - - "{Wikipedia entry }https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_and_peace" - -# SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu -# SiSU markup for 0.16 and later -# SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample -# Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy - -:A~ @title-author-date - -BOOK ONE: 1805 - -CHAPTER I - -"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the -Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, -if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by -that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have -nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer -my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see -I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news." - -It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna -Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya -Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man -of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her -reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as -she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in -St. Petersburg, used only by the elite. - -All her invitations without exception, written in French, and -delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows: - -"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the -prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too -terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- -Annette Scherer." - -"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the -least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing -an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had -stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke -in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but -thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a -man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went -up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, -scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the -sofa. - -"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's -mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the -politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even -irony could be discerned. - -"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times -like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are -staying the whole evening, I hope?" - -"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I -must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is -coming for me to take me there." - -"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these -festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome." - -"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would -have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by -force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed. - -"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's -dispatch? You know everything." - -"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, -listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that -Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to -burn ours." - -Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a -stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty -years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an -enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she -did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to -disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile -which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played -round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual -consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor -could, nor considered it necessary, to correct. - -In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna -burst out: - -"Oh, don't speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don't understand -things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. -She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious -sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is -the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to -perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble -that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and -crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than -ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must -avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely -on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot -understand the Emperor Alexander's loftiness of soul. She has -refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some -secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. -The English have not understood and cannot understand the -self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only -desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And -what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has -always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe -is powerless before him.... And I don't believe a word that Hardenburg -says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a -trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored -monarch. He will save Europe!" - -She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity. - -"I think," said the prince with a smile, "that if you had been -sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the -King of Prussia's consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you -give me a cup of tea?" - -"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am -expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, -who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of -the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good -ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He -has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?" - -"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," -he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred -to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive -of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke -to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts -is a poor creature." - -Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others -were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it -for the baron. - -Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she -nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or -was pleased with. - -"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her -sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone. - -As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna's face suddenly assumed an -expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with -sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious -patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron -Funke beaucoup d'estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness. - -The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the -womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna -Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of -a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, -so she said: - -"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came -out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly -beautiful." - -The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude. - -"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer -to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that -political and social topics were ended and the time had come for -intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the -joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid -children? I don't speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don't like -him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her -eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate -them less than anyone, and so you don't deserve to have them." - -And she smiled her ecstatic smile. - -"I can't help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I -lack the bump of paternity." - -"Don't joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I -am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her -face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her -Majesty's and you were pitied...." - -The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, -awaiting a reply. He frowned. - -"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all -a father could for their education, and they have both turned out -fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active -one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling -in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles -round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse -and unpleasant. - -"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a -father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna -Pavlovna, looking up pensively. - -"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my -children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That -is how I explain it to myself. It can't be helped!" - -He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a -gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated. - -"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" -she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and -though I don't feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little -person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of -yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya." - -Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory -and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a -movement of the head that he was considering this information. - -"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad -current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand -rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in -five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That's what -we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?" - -"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He -is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army -under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed 'the King of Prussia.' He is -very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very -unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise -Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov's and will be here -tonight." - -"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna -Pavlovna's hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange -that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- -slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She -is rich and of good family and that's all I want." - -And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised -the maid of honor's hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and -fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction. - -"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I'll speak to Lise, -young Bolkonski's wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can -be arranged. It shall be on your family's behalf that I'll start my -apprenticeship as old maid." - -CHAPTER II - -Anna Pavlovna's drawing room was gradually filling. The highest -Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age -and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. -Prince Vasili's daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her -father to the ambassador's entertainment; she wore a ball dress and -her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess -Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,~{ The most fascinating woman in Petersburg. }~ was -also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being -pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small -receptions. Prince Vasili's son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, -whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come. - -To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my -aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or -her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who -had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to -arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna -Pavlovna mentioned each one's name and then left them. - -Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom -not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of -them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful -and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of -them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health -of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each -visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left -the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious -duty and did not return to her the whole evening. - -The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a -gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a -delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her -teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming -when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always -the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness -of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special -and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of -this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life -and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull -dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company -and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were -becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, -and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her -white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that -day. - -The little princess went round the table with quick, short, -swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her -dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was -doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought -my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all -present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick -on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to -be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." -And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, -dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast. - -"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone -else," replied Anna Pavlovna. - -"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in -French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going -to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she -added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she -turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene. - -"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince -Vasili to Anna Pavlovna. - -One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with -close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable -at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout -young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known -grandee of Catherine's time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man -had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had -only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this -was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with -the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. -But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and -fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the -place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was -certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety -could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant -and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else -in that drawing room. - -"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor -invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her -aunt as she conducted him to her. - -Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look -round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to -the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate -acquaintance. - -Anna Pavlovna's alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the -aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty's health. -Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know -the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man." - -"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very -interesting but hardly feasible." - -"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and -get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now -committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady -before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak -to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big -feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the -abbe's plan chimerical. - -"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile. - -And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, -she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, -ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to -flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands -to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or -there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and -hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna -Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a -too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the -conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid -these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an -anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to -listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to -another group whose center was the abbe. - -Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna -Pavlovna's was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all -the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like -a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of -missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the -self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he -was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he -came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he -stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young -people are fond of doing. - -CHAPTER III - -Anna Pavlovna's reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed -steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, -beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face -was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company -had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed -round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the -beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili's daughter, and the little -Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump -for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna -Pavlovna. - -The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and -polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out -of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in -which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up -as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d'hotel serves up as a -specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen -it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served -up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly -choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing -the murder of the Duc d'Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc -d'Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were -particular reasons for Buonaparte's hatred of him. - -"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, -with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in -the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte." - -The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness -to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone -to listen to his tale. - -"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of -the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to -another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a -third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest -and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef -on a hot dish. - -The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile. - -"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the -beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of -another group. - -The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with -which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly -beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed -with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and -sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, -not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously -allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and -shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days -were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a -ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so -lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on -the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too -victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish -its effect. - -"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted -his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something -extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also -with her unchanging smile. - -"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, -smilingly inclining his head. - -The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and -considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the -story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful -round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her -still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond -necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and -whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at -once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor's -face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile. - -The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene. - -"Wait a moment, I'll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking -of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag." - -There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking -merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in -her seat. - -"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she -took up her work. - -Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle -and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her. - -Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary -resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that -in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features -were like his sister's, but while in her case everything was lit up by -a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, -and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the -contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of -sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, -nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, -and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions. - -"It's not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside -the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this -instrument he could not begin to speak. - -"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging -his shoulders. - -"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone -which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he -had uttered them. - -He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be -sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was -dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of -cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings. - -The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then -current, to the effect that the Duc d'Enghien had gone secretly to -Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon -Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress' favors, and that in -his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits -to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc's mercy. The latter -spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by -death. - -The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point -where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies -looked agitated. - -"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the -little princess. - -"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle -into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of -the story prevented her from going on with it. - -The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully -prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a -watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he -was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to -the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe -about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by -the young man's simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet -theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, -which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved. - -"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of -the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one -powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place -herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its -object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would -save the world!" - -"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning. - -At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at -Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The -Italian's face instantly changed and assumed an offensively -affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing -with women. - -"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the -society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have -had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think -of the climate," said he. - -Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more -conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the -larger circle. - -CHAPTER IV - -Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew -Bolkonski, the little princess' husband. He was a very handsome -young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. -Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, -measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little -wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing -room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look -at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so -tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. -He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome -face, kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned -the whole company. - -"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna. - -"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the -last syllable of the general's name like a Frenchman, "has been -pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...." - -"And Lise, your wife?" - -"She will go to the country." - -"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?" - -"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same -coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has -been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!" - -Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who -from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with -glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he -looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance -with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre's beaming -face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile. - -"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to -Pierre. - -"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper -with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the -vicomte who was continuing his story. - -"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre's -hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished -to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his -daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass. - -"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the -Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent -his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador's deprives me -of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to -leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna. - -His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly -holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more -radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, -almost frightened, eyes as she passed him. - -"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew. - -"Very," said Pierre. - -In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre's hand and said to Anna -Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a -whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. -Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever -women." - -Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew -his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili's. The elderly lady who -had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook -Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had -assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed -only anxiety and fear. - -"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him -into the anteroom. "I can't remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me -what news I may take back to my poor boy." - -Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to -the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an -ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might -not go away. - -"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he -would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she. - -"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered -Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I -should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. -That would be the best way." - -The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the -best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of -society had lost her former influential connections. She had now -come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her -only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had -obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna's reception and had sat -listening to the vicomte's story. Prince Vasili's words frightened -her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a -moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili's arm more -tightly. - -"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for -anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my -father's friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God's sake to -do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," -she added hurriedly. "No, don't be angry, but promise! I have asked -Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always -were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes. - -"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her -beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she -stood waiting by the door. - -Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be -economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having -once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, -he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using -his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya's case he felt, after her -second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded -him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the -first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners -that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made -up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and -are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour -after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved -him. - -"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and -weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; -but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father's -memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the -Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?" - -"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your -kindness!" He turned to go. - -"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." -she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich -Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at -rest, and then..." - -Prince Vasili smiled. - -"No, I won't promise that. You don't know how Kutuzov is pestered -since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that -all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as -adjutants." - -"No, but do promise! I won't let you go! My dear benefactor..." - -"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, -"we shall be late." - -"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?" - -"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?" - -"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don't promise." - -"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, -with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came -naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face. - -Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit -employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone -her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She -returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again -pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her -task was accomplished. - -CHAPTER V - -"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at -Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa -and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and -Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions -of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one's head whirl! It is -as if the whole world had gone crazy." - -Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a -sarcastic smile. - -"'Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!'~{ God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware! }~ They say he was very -fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in -Italian: "'Dio mi l'ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!'" - -"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run -over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to -endure this man who is a menace to everything." - -"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite -but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis -XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he -became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward -of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they -are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper." - -And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position. - -Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time -through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the -little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde -coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much -gravity as if she had asked him to do it. - -"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d' azur- maison Conde," said -he. - -The princess listened, smiling. - -"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the -vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which -he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others -but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone -too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French -society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, -and then..." - -He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to -make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, -who had him under observation, interrupted: - -"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which -always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, -"has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to -choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from -the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the -arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the -royalist emigrant. - -"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite -rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it -will be difficult to return to the old regime." - -"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into -the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to -Bonaparte's side." - -"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte -without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to -know the real state of French public opinion. - -"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic -smile. - -It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his -remarks at him, though without looking at him. - -"'I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,'" -Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting -Napoleon's words. "'I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.' I -do not know how far he was justified in saying so." - -"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the -duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some -people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, -after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and -one hero less on earth." - -Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their -appreciation of the vicomte's epigram, Pierre again broke into the -conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say -something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him. - -"The execution of the Duc d'Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was -a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed -greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole -responsibility of that deed." - -"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper. - -"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows -greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing -her work nearer to her. - -"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices. - -"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping -his knee with the palm of his hand. - -The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at -his audience over his spectacles and continued. - -"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled -from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon -alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general -good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man's life." - -"Won't you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna. - -But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her. - -"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great -because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, -preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom -of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain -power." - -"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to -commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have -called him a great man," remarked the vicomte. - -"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he -might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a -great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur -Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his -extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind. - -"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... -But won't you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna. - -"Rousseau's Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile. - -"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas." - -"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected -an ironical voice. - -"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most -important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation -from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas -Napoleon has retained in full force." - -"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at -last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words -were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who -does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached -liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? -On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it." - -Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the -vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment -of Pierre's outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was -horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre's sacrilegious words had -not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was -impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the -vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator. - -"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the -fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is -innocent and untried?" - -"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the -18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at -all like the conduct of a great man!" - -"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the -little princess, shrugging her shoulders. - -"He's a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte. - -Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. -His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, -his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by -another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed -to ask forgiveness. - -The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly -that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. -All were silent. - -"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince -Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish -between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. -So it seems to me." - -"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of -this reinforcement. - -"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man -was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa -where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are -other acts which it is difficult to justify." - -Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness -of Pierre's remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time -to go. - -Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to -attend, and asking them all to be seated began: - -"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to -it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be -lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian -as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. -Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their -attention to his story. - -"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She -must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was -her taste. And she had a lady's maid, also big. She said..." - -Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with -difficulty. - -"She said... Oh yes! She said, 'Girl,' to the maid, 'put on a -livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some -calls.'" - -Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long -before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the -narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna -Pavlovna, did however smile. - -"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat -and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no -longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world -knew...." - -And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had -told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna -and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte's social tact in so -agreeably ending Pierre's unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the -anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about -the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, -and when and where. - -CHAPTER VI - -Having thanked Anna Pavlovna for her charming soiree, the guests -began to take their leave. - -Pierre was ungainly. Stout, about the average height, broad, with -huge red hands; he did not know, as the saying is, to enter a -drawing room and still less how to leave one; that is, how to say -something particularly agreeable before going away. Besides this he -was absent-minded. When he rose to go, he took up instead of his -own, the general's three-cornered hat, and held it, pulling at the -plume, till the general asked him to restore it. All his -absent-mindedness and inability to enter a room and converse in it -was, however, redeemed by his kindly, simple, and modest expression. -Anna Pavlovna turned toward him and, with a Christian mildness that -expressed forgiveness of his indiscretion, nodded and said: "I hope to -see you again, but I also hope you will change your opinions, my -dear Monsieur Pierre." - -When she said this, he did not reply and only bowed, but again -everybody saw his smile, which said nothing, unless perhaps, "Opinions -are opinions, but you see what a capital, good-natured fellow I am." -And everyone, including Anna Pavlovna, felt this. - -Prince Andrew had gone out into the hall, and, turning his shoulders -to the footman who was helping him on with his cloak, listened -indifferently to his wife's chatter with Prince Hippolyte who had also -come into the hall. Prince Hippolyte stood close to the pretty, -pregnant princess, and stared fixedly at her through his eyeglass. - -"Go in, Annette, or you will catch cold," said the little -princess, taking leave of Anna Pavlovna. "It is settled," she added in -a low voice. - -Anna Pavlovna had already managed to speak to Lise about the match -she contemplated between Anatole and the little princess' -sister-in-law. - -"I rely on you, my dear," said Anna Pavlovna, also in a low tone. -"Write to her and let me know how her father looks at the matter. Au -revoir!"- and she left the hall. - -Prince Hippolyte approached the little princess and, bending his -face close to her, began to whisper something. - -Two footmen, the princess' and his own, stood holding a shawl and -a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to -the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of -understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as -usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh. - -"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador's," said Prince -Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? -Delightful!" - -"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing -up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be -there." - -"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte -smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he -even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either -from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after -the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long -time, as though embracing her. - -Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at -her husband. Prince Andrew's eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did -he seem. - -"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her. - -Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest -fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out -into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into -the carriage. - -"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as -well as with his feet. - -The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the -dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince -Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone's way. - -"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, -disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path. - -"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and -affectionately. - -The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte -laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte -whom he had promised to take home. - -"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside -Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very -nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. -Hippolyte burst out laughing. - -"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," -continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer -who gives himself the airs of a monarch." - -Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you -were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One -has to know how to deal with them." - -Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew's study like -one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, -took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was -Caesar's Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it -in the middle. - -"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," -said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white -hands. - -Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his -eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand. - -"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in -the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I -do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political -power...." - -It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such -abstract conversation. - -"One can't everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you -at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a -diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence. - -Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him. - -"Really, I don't yet know. I don't like either the one or the -other." - -"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it." - -Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, -and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow -his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to -Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to -anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. -Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre -had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not -decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was -speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead. - -"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he -had met that evening. - -"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us -talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?" - -"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to -tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for -freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the -army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in -the world is not right." - -Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre's childish -words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to -such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any -other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question. - -"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no -wars," he said. - -"And that would be splendid," said Pierre. - -Prince Andrew smiled ironically. - -"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..." - -"Well, why are you going to the war?" asked Pierre. - -"What for? I don't know. I must. Besides that I am going..." He -paused. "I am going because the life I am leading here does not suit -me!" - -CHAPTER VII - -The rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the next room. Prince -Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it -had had in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room. Pierre removed his feet -from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a -house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose -and politely placed a chair for her. - -"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly -and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? -How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for -saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative -fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!" - -"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can't understand why he -wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess -with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their -intercourse with young women. - -The princess started. Evidently Pierre's words touched her to the -quick. - -"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don't understand -it; I don't in the least understand why men can't live without wars. -How is it that we women don't want anything of the kind, don't need -it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is -Uncle's aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well -known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the -Apraksins' I heard a lady asking, 'Is that the famous Prince -Andrew?' I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received -everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You -know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were -speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?" - -Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the -conversation, gave no reply. - -"When are you starting?" he asked. - -"Oh, don't speak of his going, don't! I won't hear it spoken of," -said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had -spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly -ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. -"Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must -be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked -significantly at her husband) "I'm afraid, I'm afraid!" she whispered, -and a shudder ran down her back. - -Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone -besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a -tone of frigid politeness. - -"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don't understand," said he. - -"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a -whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up -alone in the country." - -"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently. - -"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to -be afraid." - -Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a -joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if -she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though -the gist of the matter lay in that. - -"I still can't understand what you are afraid of," said Prince -Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife. - -The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair. - -"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..." - -"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. -"You had better go." - -The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip -quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about -the room. - -Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him -and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind. - -"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little -princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a -tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you -have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the -war and have no pity for me. Why is it?" - -"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an -entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself -regret her words. But she went on hurriedly: - -"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you -behave like that six months ago?" - -"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more -emphatically. - -Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened -to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to -bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself. - -"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you -I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An -outsider is out of place here... No, don't distress yourself... -Good-by!" - -Prince Andrew caught him by the hand. - -"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of -the pleasure of spending the evening with you." - -"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without -restraining her angry tears. - -"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch -which indicates that patience is exhausted. - -Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess' pretty -face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful -eyes glanced askance at her husband's face, and her own assumed the -timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags -its drooping tail. - -"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!" she muttered, and lifting her dress with one -hand she went up to her husband and kissed him on the forehead. - -"Good night, Lise," said he, rising and courteously kissing her hand -as he would have done to a stranger. - -CHAPTER VIII - -The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre -continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his -forehead with his small hand. - -"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door. - -They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining -room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and -glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the -newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his -elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as -Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who -has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak -out. - -"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That's my advice: never marry -till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable -of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and -have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and -irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or -all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be -wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. -If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you -will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed -except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with -a court lackey and an idiot!... But what's the good?..." and he -waved his arm. - -Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different -and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at -his friend in amazement. - -"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of -those rare women with whom a man's honor is safe; but, O God, what -would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one -to whom I mention this, because I like you." - -As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski -who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna's easy chairs and with half-closed -eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his -thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in -which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with -brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at -ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of -almost morbid irritation. - -"You don't understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is -the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said -he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he -worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had -nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself -up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And -all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and -torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and -triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I -am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know -nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic -wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna's they listen -to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and -those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and -women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial -in everything- that's what women are when you see them in their true -colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were -something in them, but there's nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don't -marry, my dear fellow; don't marry!" concluded Prince Andrew. - -"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should -consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have -everything before you, everything. And you..." - -He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he -thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future. - -"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his -friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the -highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which -might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always -astonished at Prince Andrew's calm manner of treating everybody, his -extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, -knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all -at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck -by Andrew's lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he -himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a -defect but as a sign of strength. - -Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, -praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary -to wheels that they may run smoothly. - -"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What's the use of -talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, -smiling at his reassuring thoughts. - -That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre's face. - -"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face -relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate -son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a -great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And -it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the -present I am free and am all right. Only I haven't the least idea what -I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously." - -Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and -affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority. - -"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among -our whole set. Yes, you're all right! Choose what you will; it's all -the same. You'll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up -visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so -badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!" - -"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging -his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!" - -"I don't understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme -il faut, that's a different matter; but the Kuragins' set of women, -'women and wine' I don't understand!" - -Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin's and sharing the -dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to -reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew's sister. - -"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy -thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading -such a life I can't decide or think properly about anything. One's -head aches, and one spends all one's money. He asked me for tonight, -but I won't go." - -"You give me your word of honor not to go?" - -"On my honor!" - -CHAPTER IX - -It was past one o'clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a -cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending -to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more -he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was -light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed -more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre -remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for -cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, -finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of. - -"I should like to go to Kuragin's," thought he. - -But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go -there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so -passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so -accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately -occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, -because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to -come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such 'words of -honor' are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if -one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so -extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all -the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, -nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin's. - -Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards' barracks, in which -Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the -stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the -anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there -was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the -distance. - -Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet -dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in -which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw -him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the -third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, -the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine -young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others -were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and -trying to set him at the others. - -"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one. - -"Mind, no holding on!" cried another. - -"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands." - -"There, leave Bruin alone; here's a bet on." - -"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth. - -"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow -who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine -linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here -is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre. - -Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, -particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober -ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was -Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler -and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about -him merrily. - -"I don't understand. What's it all about?" - -"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, -taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre. - -"First of all you must drink!" - -Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows -at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and -listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre's glass -while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English -naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the -outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out. - -"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last -glass, "or I won't let you go!" - -"No, I won't," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to -the window. - -Dolokhov was holding the Englishman's hand and clearly and -distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself -particularly to Anatole and Pierre. - -Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue -eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore -no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, -was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely -curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed -firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles -played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, -together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, -produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. -Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though -Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and -had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including -Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov -could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, -he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at -that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg. - -The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented -anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two -footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions -and shouts of the gentlemen around. - -Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted -to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, -but could not move it. He smashed a pane. - -"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre. - -Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame -out with a crash. - -"Take it right out, or they'll think I'm holding on," said Dolokhov. - -"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole. - -"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of -rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of -the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible. - -Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the -window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those -in the room. All were silent. - -"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might -understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty -imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, -addressing the Englishman. - -"No, fifty," replied the latter. - -"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of -rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on -this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the -window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?" - -"Quite right," said the Englishman. - -Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the -buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- -began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English. - -"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill -to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else -does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?" - -The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to -accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and -though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on -translating Dolokhov's words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar -of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the -window sill, leaned over, and looked down. - -"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the -stones of the pavement. - -"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad -jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs. - -Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it -easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and -lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he -adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the -right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought -two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was -already quite light. Dolokhov's back in his white shirt, and his curly -head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the -Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older -than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and -angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov's shirt. - -"I say, this is folly! He'll be killed," said this more sensible -man. - -Anatole stopped him. - -"Don't touch him! You'll startle him and then he'll be killed. -Eh?... What then?... Eh?" - -Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, -arranged himself on his seat. - -"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words -separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down -there. Now then!" - -Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the -bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised -his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped -to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without -taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov's back. Anatole -stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, -pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran -to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to -the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade -though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. -Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same -position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair -touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted -higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was -emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting -yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to -him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made -a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; -this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the -sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered -still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the -window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered -his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he -was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on -the window sill, with a pale but radiant face. - -"It's empty." - -He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. -Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum. - -"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There's a bet for you!... Devil -take you!" came from different sides. - -The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the -money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon -the window sill. - -"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I'll do the same thing!" he -suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a -bottle. I'll do it.... Bring a bottle!" - -"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling. - -"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, -you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices. - -"I'll drink it! Let's have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging -the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb -out of the window. - -They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone -who touched him was sent flying. - -"No, you'll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit -and I'll get round him.... Listen! I'll take your bet tomorrow, but -now we are all going to -'s." - -"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we'll take Bruin with -us." - -And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the -ground, and began dancing round the room with it. - -CHAPTER X - -Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess -Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on -the evening of Anna Pavlovna's soiree. The matter was mentioned to the -Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of -Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no -appointment to Kutuzov's staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna's -endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna's reception Anna -Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich -relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and -where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment -of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a -cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a -time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, -and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join -them on the march to Radzivilov. - -It was St. Natalia's day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the -mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the -morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going -continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova's big house -on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself -and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the -visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one -another in relays. - -The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental -type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had -twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, -gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna -Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also -seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the -visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not -considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The -count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner. - -"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he -called everyone without exception and without the slightest -variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him -in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose -name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be -offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, -mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or -variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, -clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same -quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned -to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair -toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his -hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how -to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the -weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and -sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a -man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see -some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald -patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the -anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the -large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty -people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and -china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would -call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all -his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table -would say: "Well, Dmitri, you'll see that things are all as they -should be? That's right! The great thing is the serving, that's it." -And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room. - -"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess' -gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The -countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with -her husband's portrait on it. - -"I'm quite worn out by these callers. However, I'll see her and no -more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a -sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off." - -A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling -daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling. - -"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... -at the Razumovski's ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so -delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, -interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and -the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which -last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of -dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma's health... and -Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the -anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation -was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and -celebrated beau of Catherine's day, Count Bezukhov, and about his -illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna -Pavlovna's reception. - -"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such -bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill -him!" - -"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the -visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of -Count Bezukhov's distress some fifteen times. - -"That's what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. -"It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as -he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible -things that he has been expelled by the police." - -"You don't say so!" replied the countess. - -"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince -Vasili's son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up -to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. -Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov's son sent back -to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin's father managed somehow to get his son's -affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg." - -"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess. - -"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the -visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy -woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear -somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some -actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men -do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear -into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the -policeman on his back!" - -"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted -the count, dying with laughter. - -"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?" - -Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing. - -"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the -visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov's son who -amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so -well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has -done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in -spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite -declined: I have my daughters to consider." - -"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, -turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of -inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also -is illegitimate." - -The visitor made a gesture with her hand. - -"I should think he has a score of them." - -Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, -evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went -on in society. - -"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a -half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril's reputation.... He has lost -count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite." - -"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the -countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man." - -"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I -was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the -count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to -the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is -so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from -Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, -Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of -rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. -Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother's second cousin. He's also -my Bory's godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at -all to the fact. - -"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on -some inspection business," remarked the visitor. - -"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a -pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, -hearing how ill he is." - -"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; -and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to -the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that -policeman cut!" - -And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly -form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who -always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine -with us!" he said. - -CHAPTER XI - -Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, -but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they -now rose and took their leave. The visitor's daughter was already -smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when -suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls -running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a -girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin -frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was -evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. -Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat -collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump -rosy-faced boy in a short jacket. - -The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his -arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in. - -"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it -is. My dear pet!" - -"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with -feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her -husband. - -"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your -name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, -addressing the mother. - -This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- -with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook -her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little -legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at -that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child -is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her -flushed face in the lace of her mother's mantilla- not paying the -least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, -and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she -produced from the folds of her frock. - -"Do you see?... My doll... Mimi... You see..." was all Natasha -managed to utter (to her everything seemed funny). She leaned -against her mother and burst into such a loud, ringing fit of laughter -that even the prim visitor could not help joining in. - -"Now then, go away and take your monstrosity with you," said the -mother, pushing away her daughter with pretended sternness, and -turning to the visitor she added: "She is my youngest girl." - -Natasha, raising her face for a moment from her mother's mantilla, -glanced up at her through tears of laughter, and again hid her face. - -The visitor, compelled to look on at this family scene, thought it -necessary to take some part in it. - -"Tell me, my dear," said she to Natasha, "is Mimi a relation of -yours? A daughter, I suppose?" - -Natasha did not like the visitor's tone of condescension to childish -things. She did not reply, but looked at her seriously. - -Meanwhile the younger generation: Boris, the officer, Anna -Mikhaylovna's son; Nicholas, the undergraduate, the count's eldest -son; Sonya, the count's fifteen-year-old niece, and little Petya, -his youngest boy, had all settled down in the drawing room and were -obviously trying to restrain within the bounds of decorum the -excitement and mirth that shone in all their faces. Evidently in the -back rooms, from which they had dashed out so impetuously, the -conversation had been more amusing than the drawing-room talk of -society scandals, the weather, and Countess Apraksina. Now and then -they glanced at one another, hardly able to suppress their laughter. - -The two young men, the student and the officer, friends from -childhood, were of the same age and both handsome fellows, though -not alike. Boris was tall and fair, and his calm and handsome face had -regular, delicate features. Nicholas was short with curly hair and -an open expression. Dark hairs were already showing on his upper -lip, and his whole face expressed impetuosity and enthusiasm. Nicholas -blushed when he entered the drawing room. He evidently tried to find -something to say, but failed. Boris on the contrary at once found -his footing, and related quietly and humorously how he had know that -doll Mimi when she was still quite a young lady, before her nose was -broken; how she had aged during the five years he had known her, and -how her head had cracked right across the skull. Having said this he -glanced at Natasha. She turned away from him and glanced at her -younger brother, who was screwing up his eyes and shaking with -suppressed laughter, and unable to control herself any longer, she -jumped up and rushed from the room as fast as her nimble little feet -would carry her. Boris did not laugh. - -"You were meaning to go out, weren't you, Mamma? Do you want the -carriage?" he asked his mother with a smile. - -"Yes, yes, go and tell them to get it ready," she answered, -returning his smile. - -Boris quietly left the room and went in search of Natasha. The plump -boy ran after them angrily, as if vexed that their program had been -disturbed. - -CHAPTER XII - -The only young people remaining in the drawing room, not counting -the young lady visitor and the countess' eldest daughter (who was four -years older than her sister and behaved already like a grown-up -person), were Nicholas and Sonya, the niece. Sonya was a slender -little brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled by -long lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and a -tawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of her -slender but graceful and muscular arms and neck. By the grace of her -movements, by the softness and flexibility of her small limbs, and -by a certain coyness and reserve of manner, she reminded one of a -pretty, half-grown kitten which promises to become a beautiful -little cat. She evidently considered it proper to show an interest -in the general conversation by smiling, but in spite of herself her -eyes under their thick long lashes watched her cousin who was going to -join the army, with such passionate girlish adoration that her smile -could not for a single instant impose upon anyone, and it was clear -that the kitten had settled down only to spring up with more energy -and again play with her cousin as soon as they too could, like Natasha -and Boris, escape from the drawing room. - -"Ah yes, my dear," said the count, addressing the visitor and -pointing to Nicholas, "his friend Boris has become an officer, and -so for friendship's sake he is leaving the university and me, his -old father, and entering the military service, my dear. And there -was a place and everything waiting for him in the Archives Department! -Isn't that friendship?" remarked the count in an inquiring tone. - -"But they say that war has been declared," replied the visitor. - -"They've been saying so a long while," said the count, "and -they'll say so again and again, and that will be the end of it. My -dear, there's friendship for you," he repeated. "He's joining the -hussars." - -The visitor, not knowing what to say, shook her head. - -"It's not at all from friendship," declared Nicholas, flaring up and -turning away as if from a shameful aspersion. "It is not from -friendship at all; I simply feel that the army is my vocation." - -He glanced at his cousin and the young lady visitor; and they were -both regarding him with a smile of approbation. - -"Schubert, the colonel of the Pavlograd Hussars, is dining with us -today. He has been here on leave and is taking Nicholas back with him. -It can't be helped!" said the count, shrugging his shoulders and -speaking playfully of a matter that evidently distressed him. - -"I have already told you, Papa," said his son, "that if you don't -wish to let me go, I'll stay. But I know I am no use anywhere except -in the army; I am not a diplomat or a government clerk.- I don't -know how to hide what I feel." As he spoke he kept glancing with the -flirtatiousness of a handsome youth at Sonya and the young lady -visitor. - -The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at any -moment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature. - -"All right, all right!" said the old count. "He always flares up! -This Buonaparte has turned all their heads; they all think of how he -rose from an ensign and became Emperor. Well, well, God grant it," -he added, not noticing his visitor's sarcastic smile. - -The elders began talking about Bonaparte. Julie Karagina turned to -young Rostov. - -"What a pity you weren't at the Arkharovs' on Thursday. It was so -dull without you," said she, giving him a tender smile. - -The young man, flattered, sat down nearer to her with a coquettish -smile, and engaged the smiling Julie in a confidential conversation -without at all noticing that his involuntary smile had stabbed the -heart of Sonya, who blushed and smiled unnaturally. In the midst of -his talk he glanced round at her. She gave him a passionately angry -glance, and hardly able to restrain her tears and maintain the -artificial smile on her lips, she got up and left the room. All -Nicholas' animation vanished. He waited for the first pause in the -conversation, and then with a distressed face left the room to find -Sonya. - -"How plainly all these young people wear their hearts on their -sleeves!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, pointing to Nicholas as he went -out. "Cousinage- dangereux voisinage;"~{ Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood. }~ she added. - -"Yes," said the countess when the brightness these young people -had brought into the room had vanished; and as if answering a question -no one had put but which was always in her mind, "and how much -suffering, how much anxiety one has had to go through that we might -rejoice in them now! And yet really the anxiety is greater now than -the joy. One is always, always anxious! Especially just at this age, -so dangerous both for girls and boys." - -"It all depends on the bringing up," remarked the visitor. - -"Yes, you're quite right," continued the countess. "Till now I -have always, thank God, been my children's friend and had their full -confidence," said she, repeating the mistake of so many parents who -imagine that their children have no secrets from them. "I know I shall -always be my daughters' first confidante, and that if Nicholas, with -his impulsive nature, does get into mischief (a boy can't help it), he -will all the same never be like those Petersburg young men." - -"Yes, they are splendid, splendid youngsters," chimed in the -count, who always solved questions that seemed to him perplexing by -deciding that everything was splendid. "Just fancy: wants to be an -hussar. What's one to do, my dear?" - -"What a charming creature your younger girl is," said the visitor; -"a little volcano!" - -"Yes, a regular volcano," said the count. "Takes after me! And -what a voice she has; though she's my daughter, I tell the truth -when I say she'll be a singer, a second Salomoni! We have engaged an -Italian to give her lessons." - -"Isn't she too young? I have heard that it harms the voice to -train it at that age." - -"Oh no, not at all too young!" replied the count. "Why, our -mothers used to be married at twelve or thirteen." - -"And she's in love with Boris already. Just fancy!" said the -countess with a gentle smile, looking at Boris' and went on, evidently -concerned with a thought that always occupied her: "Now you see if I -were to be severe with her and to forbid it... goodness knows what -they might be up to on the sly" (she meant that they would be -kissing), "but as it is, I know every word she utters. She will come -running to me of her own accord in the evening and tell me everything. -Perhaps I spoil her, but really that seems the best plan. With her -elder sister I was stricter." - -"Yes, I was brought up quite differently," remarked the handsome -elder daughter, Countess Vera, with a smile. - -But the smile did not enhance Vera's beauty as smiles generally -do; on the contrary it gave her an unnatural, and therefore -unpleasant, expression. Vera was good-looking, not at all stupid, -quick at learning, was well brought up, and had a pleasant voice; what -she said was true and appropriate, yet, strange to say, everyone- -the visitors and countess alike- turned to look at her as if wondering -why she had said it, and they all felt awkward. - -"People are always too clever with their eldest children and try -to make something exceptional of them," said the visitor. - -"What's the good of denying it, my dear? Our dear countess was too -clever with Vera," said the count. "Well, what of that? She's turned -out splendidly all the same," he added, winking at Vera. - -The guests got up and took their leave, promising to return to -dinner. - -"What manners! I thought they would never go," said the countess, -when she had seen her guests out. - -CHAPTER XIII - -When Natasha ran out of the drawing room she only went as far as the -conservatory. There she paused and stood listening to the conversation -in the drawing room, waiting for Boris to come out. She was already -growing impatient, and stamped her foot, ready to cry at his not -coming at once, when she heard the young man's discreet steps -approaching neither quickly nor slowly. At this Natasha dashed swiftly -among the flower tubs and hid there. - -Boris paused in the middle of the room, looked round, brushed a -little dust from the sleeve of his uniform, and going up to a mirror -examined his handsome face. Natasha, very still, peered out from her -ambush, waiting to see what he would do. He stood a little while -before the glass, smiled, and walked toward the other door. Natasha -was about to call him but changed her mind. "Let him look for me," -thought she. Hardly had Boris gone than Sonya, flushed, in tears, -and muttering angrily, came in at the other door. Natasha checked -her first impulse to run out to her, and remained in her hiding place, -watching- as under an invisible cap- to see what went on in the world. -She was experiencing a new and peculiar pleasure. Sonya, muttering -to herself, kept looking round toward the drawing-room door. It opened -and Nicholas came in. - -"Sonya, what is the matter with you? How can you?" said he, -running up to her. - -"It's nothing, nothing; leave me alone!" sobbed Sonya. - -"Ah, I know what it is." - -"Well, if you do, so much the better, and you can go back to her!" - -"So-o-onya! Look here! How can you torture me and yourself like -that, for a mere fancy?" said Nicholas taking her hand. - -Sonya did not pull it away, and left off crying. Natasha, not -stirring and scarcely breathing, watched from her ambush with -sparkling eyes. "What will happen now?" thought she. - -"Sonya! What is anyone in the world to me? You alone are -everything!" said Nicholas. "And I will prove it to you." - -"I don't like you to talk like that." - -"Well, then, I won't; only forgive me, Sonya!" He drew her to him -and kissed her. - -"Oh, how nice," thought Natasha; and when Sonya and Nicholas had -gone out of the conservatory she followed and called Boris to her. - -"Boris, come here," said she with a sly and significant look. "I -have something to tell you. Here, here!" and she led him into the -conservatory to the place among the tubs where she had been hiding. - -Boris followed her, smiling. - -"What is the something?" asked he. - -She grew confused, glanced round, and, seeing the doll she had -thrown down on one of the tubs, picked it up. - -"Kiss the doll," said she. - -Boris looked attentively and kindly at her eager face, but did not -reply. - -"Don't you want to? Well, then, come here," said she, and went -further in among the plants and threw down the doll. "Closer, closer!" -she whispered. - -She caught the young officer by his cuffs, and a look of solemnity -and fear appeared on her flushed face. - -"And me? Would you like to kiss me?" she whispered almost inaudibly, -glancing up at him from under her brows, smiling, and almost crying -from excitement. - -Boris blushed. - -"How funny you are!" he said, bending down to her and blushing still -more, but he waited and did nothing. - -Suddenly she jumped up onto a tub to be higher than he, embraced him -so that both her slender bare arms clasped him above his neck, and, -tossing back her hair, kissed him full on the lips. - -Then she slipped down among the flowerpots on the other side of -the tubs and stood, hanging her head. - -"Natasha," he said, "you know that I love you, but..." - -"You are in love with me?" Natasha broke in. - -"Yes, I am, but please don't let us do like that.... In another four -years... then I will ask for your hand." - -Natasha considered. - -"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen," she counted on her slender -little fingers. "All right! Then it's settled?" - -A smile of joy and satisfaction lit up her eager face. - -"Settled!" replied Boris. - -"Forever?" said the little girl. "Till death itself?" - -She took his arm and with a happy face went with him into the -adjoining sitting room. - -CHAPTER XIV - -After receiving her visitors, the countess was so tired that she -gave orders to admit no more, but the porter was told to be sure to -invite to dinner all who came "to congratulate." The countess wished -to have a tete-a-tete talk with the friend of her childhood, -Princess Anna Mikhaylovna, whom she had not seen properly since she -returned from Petersburg. Anna Mikhaylovna, with her tear-worn but -pleasant face, drew her chair nearer to that of the countess. - -"With you I will be quite frank," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "There -are not many left of us old friends! That's why I so value your -friendship." - -Anna Mikhaylovna looked at Vera and paused. The countess pressed her -friend's hand. - -"Vera," she said to her eldest daughter who was evidently not a -favorite, "how is it you have so little tact? Don't you see you are -not wanted here? Go to the other girls, or..." - -The handsome Vera smiled contemptuously but did not seem at all -hurt. - -"If you had told me sooner, Mamma, I would have gone," she replied -as she rose to go to her own room. - -But as she passed the sitting room she noticed two couples -sitting, one pair at each window. She stopped and smiled scornfully. -Sonya was sitting close to Nicholas who was copying out some verses -for her, the first he had ever written. Boris and Natasha were at -the other window and ceased talking when Vera entered. Sonya and -Natasha looked at Vera with guilty, happy faces. - -It was pleasant and touching to see these little girls in love; -but apparently the sight of them roused no pleasant feeling in Vera. - -"How often have I asked you not to take my things?" she said. "You -have a room of your own," and she took the inkstand from Nicholas. - -"In a minute, in a minute," he said, dipping his pen. - -"You always manage to do things at the wrong time," continued -Vera. "You came rushing into the drawing room so that everyone felt -ashamed of you." - -Though what she said was quite just, perhaps for that very reason no -one replied, and the four simply looked at one another. She lingered -in the room with the inkstand in her hand. - -"And at your age what secrets can there be between Natasha and -Boris, or between you two? It's all nonsense!" - -"Now, Vera, what does it matter to you?" said Natasha in defense, -speaking very gently. - -She seemed that day to be more than ever kind and affectionate to -everyone. - -"Very silly," said Vera. "I am ashamed of you. Secrets indeed!" - -"All have secrets of their own," answered Natasha, getting warmer. -"We don't interfere with you and Berg." - -"I should think not," said Vera, "because there can never be -anything wrong in my behavior. But I'll just tell Mamma how you are -behaving with Boris." - -"Natalya Ilynichna behaves very well to me," remarked Boris. "I have -nothing to complain of." - -"Don't, Boris! You are such a diplomat that it is really -tiresome," said Natasha in a mortified voice that trembled slightly. -(She used the word "diplomat," which was just then much in vogue among -the children, in the special sense they attached to it.) "Why does she -bother me?" And she added, turning to Vera, "You'll never understand -it, because you've never loved anyone. You have no heart! You are a -Madame de Genlis and nothing more" (this nickname, bestowed on Vera by -Nicholas, was considered very stinging), "and your greatest pleasure -is to be unpleasant to people! Go and flirt with Berg as much as you -please," she finished quickly. - -"I shall at any rate not run after a young man before visitors..." - -"Well, now you've done what you wanted," put in Nicholas- "said -unpleasant things to everyone and upset them. Let's go to the -nursery." - -All four, like a flock of scared birds, got up and left the room. - -"The unpleasant things were said to me," remarked Vera, "I said none -to anyone." - -"Madame de Genlis! Madame de Genlis!" shouted laughing voices -through the door. - -The handsome Vera, who produced such an irritating and unpleasant -effect on everyone, smiled and, evidently unmoved by what had been -said to her, went to the looking glass and arranged her hair and -scarf. Looking at her own handsome face she seemed to become still -colder and calmer. - -In the drawing room the conversation was still going on. - -"Ah, my dear," said the countess, "my life is not all roses -either. Don't I know that at the rate we are living our means won't -last long? It's all the Club and his easygoing nature. Even in the -country do we get any rest? Theatricals, hunting, and heaven knows -what besides! But don't let's talk about me; tell me how you managed -everything. I often wonder at you, Annette- how at your age you can -rush off alone in a carriage to Moscow, to Petersburg, to those -ministers and great people, and know how to deal with them all! It's -quite astonishing. How did you get things settled? I couldn't possibly -do it." - -"Ah, my love," answered Anna Mikhaylovna, "God grant you never -know what it is to be left a widow without means and with a son you -love to distraction! One learns many things then," she added with a -certain pride. "That lawsuit taught me much. When I want to see one of -those big people I write a note: 'Princess So-and-So desires an -interview with So and-So,' and then I take a cab and go myself two, -three, or four times- till I get what I want. I don't mind what they -think of me." - -"Well, and to whom did you apply about Bory?" asked the countess. -"You see yours is already an officer in the Guards, while my -Nicholas is going as a cadet. There's no one to interest himself for -him. To whom did you apply?" - -"To Prince Vasili. He was so kind. He at once agreed to -everything, and put the matter before the Emperor," said Princess Anna -Mikhaylovna enthusiastically, quite forgetting all the humiliation she -had endured to gain her end. - -"Has Prince Vasili aged much?" asked the countess. "I have not -seen him since we acted together at the Rumyantsovs' theatricals. I -expect he has forgotten me. He paid me attentions in those days," said -the countess, with a smile. - -"He is just the same as ever," replied Anna Mikhaylovna, -"overflowing with amiability. His position has not turned his head -at all. He said to me, 'I am sorry I can do so little for you, dear -Princess. I am at your command.' Yes, he is a fine fellow and a very -kind relation. But, Nataly, you know my love for my son: I would do -anything for his happiness! And my affairs are in such a bad way -that my position is now a terrible one," continued Anna Mikhaylovna, -sadly, dropping her voice. "My wretched lawsuit takes all I have and -makes no progress. Would you believe it, I have literally not a -penny and don't know how to equip Boris." She took out her -handkerchief and began to cry. "I need five hundred rubles, and have -only one twenty-five-ruble note. I am in such a state.... My only hope -now is in Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov. If he will not assist -his godson- you know he is Bory's godfather- and allow him something -for his maintenance, all my trouble will have been thrown away.... I -shall not be able to equip him." - -The countess' eyes filled with tears and she pondered in silence. - -"I often think, though, perhaps it's a sin," said the princess, -"that here lives Count Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov so rich, all -alone... that tremendous fortune... and what is his life worth? It's a -burden to him, and Bory's life is only just beginning...." - -"Surely he will leave something to Boris," said the countess. - -"Heaven only knows, my dear! These rich grandees are so selfish. -Still, I will take Boris and go to see him at once, and I shall -speak to him straight out. Let people think what they will of me, it's -really all the same to me when my son's fate is at stake." The -princess rose. "It's now two o'clock and you dine at four. There -will just be time." - -And like a practical Petersburg lady who knows how to make the -most of time, Anna Mikhaylovna sent someone to call her son, and -went into the anteroom with him. - -"Good-by, my dear," said she to the countess who saw her to the -door, and added in a whisper so that her son should not hear, "Wish me -good luck." - -"Are you going to Count Cyril Vladimirovich, my dear?" said the -count coming out from the dining hall into the anteroom, and he added: -"If he is better, ask Pierre to dine with us. He has been to the -house, you know, and danced with the children. Be sure to invite -him, my dear. We will see how Taras distinguishes himself today. He -says Count Orlov never gave such a dinner as ours will be!" - -CHAPTER XV - -"My dear Boris," said Princess Anna Mikhaylovna to her son as -Countess Rostova's carriage in which they were seated drove over the -straw covered street and turned into the wide courtyard of Count Cyril -Vladimirovich Bezukhov's house. "My dear Boris," said the mother, -drawing her hand from beneath her old mantle and laying it timidly and -tenderly on her son's arm, "be affectionate and attentive to him. -Count Cyril Vladimirovich is your godfather after all, your future -depends on him. Remember that, my dear, and be nice to him, as you -so well know how to be." - -"If only I knew that anything besides humiliation would come of -it..." answered her son coldly. "But I have promised and will do it -for your sake." - -Although the hall porter saw someone's carriage standing at the -entrance, after scrutinizing the mother and son (who without asking to -be announced had passed straight through the glass porch between the -rows of statues in niches) and looking significantly at the lady's old -cloak, he asked whether they wanted the count or the princesses, -and, hearing that they wished to see the count, said his excellency -was worse today, and that his excellency was not receiving anyone. - -"We may as well go back," said the son in French. - -"My dear!" exclaimed his mother imploringly, again laying her hand -on his arm as if that touch might soothe or rouse him. - -Boris said no more, but looked inquiringly at his mother without -taking off his cloak. - -"My friend," said Anna Mikhaylovna in gentle tones, addressing the -hall porter, I know Count Cyril Vladimirovich is very ill... that's -why I have come... I am a relation. I shall not disturb him, my -friend... I only need see Prince Vasili Sergeevich: he is staying -here, is he not? Please announce me." - -The hall porter sullenly pulled a bell that rang upstairs, and -turned away. - -"Princess Drubetskaya to see Prince Vasili Sergeevich," he called to -a footman dressed in knee breeches, shoes, and a swallow-tail coat, -who ran downstairs and looked over from the halfway landing. - -The mother smoothed the folds of her dyed silk dress before a -large Venetian mirror in the wall, and in her trodden-down shoes -briskly ascended the carpeted stairs. - -"My dear," she said to her son, once more stimulating him by a -touch, "you promised me!" - -The son, lowering his eyes, followed her quietly. - -They entered the large hall, from which one of the doors led to -the apartments assigned to Prince Vasili. - -Just as the mother and son, having reached the middle of the hall, -were about to ask their way of an elderly footman who had sprung up as -they entered, the bronze handle of one of the doors turned and -Prince Vasili came out- wearing a velvet coat with a single star on -his breast, as was his custom when at home- taking leave of a -good-looking, dark-haired man. This was the celebrated Petersburg -doctor, Lorrain. - -"Then it is certain?" said the prince. - -"Prince, humanum est errare,~{ To err is human. }~ but..." replied the doctor, swallowing -his r's, and pronouncing the Latin words with a French accent. - -"Very well, very well..." - -Seeing Anna Mikhaylovna and her son, Prince Vasili dismissed the -doctor with a bow and approached them silently and with a look of -inquiry. The son noticed that an expression of profound sorrow -suddenly clouded his mother's face, and he smiled slightly. - -"Ah, Prince! In what sad circumstances we meet again! And how is our -dear invalid?" said she, as though unaware of the cold offensive -look fixed on her. - -Prince Vasili stared at her and at Boris questioningly and -perplexed. Boris bowed politely. Prince Vasili without acknowledging -the bow turned to Anna Mikhaylovna, answering her query by a -movement of the head and lips indicating very little hope for the -patient. - -"Is it possible?" exclaimed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Oh, how awful! It -is terrible to think.... This is my son," she added, indicating Boris. -"He wanted to thank you himself." - -Boris bowed again politely. - -"Believe me, Prince, a mother's heart will never forget what you -have done for us." - -"I am glad I was able to do you a service, my dear Anna -Mikhaylovna," said Prince Vasili, arranging his lace frill, and in -tone and manner, here in Moscow to Anna Mikhaylovna whom he had placed -under an obligation, assuming an air of much greater importance than -he had done in Petersburg at Anna Scherer's reception. - -"Try to serve well and show yourself worthy," added he, addressing -Boris with severity. "I am glad.... Are you here on leave?" he went on -in his usual tone of indifference. - -"I am awaiting orders to join my new regiment, your excellency," -replied Boris, betraying neither annoyance at the prince's brusque -manner nor a desire to enter into conversation, but speaking so -quietly and respectfully that the prince gave him a searching glance. - -"Are you living with your mother?" - -"I am living at Countess Rostova's," replied Boris, again adding, -"your excellency." - -"That is, with Ilya Rostov who married Nataly Shinshina," said -Anna Mikhaylovna. - -"I know, I know," answered Prince Vasili in his monotonous voice. "I -never could understand how Nataly made up her mind to marry that -unlicked bear! A perfectly absurd and stupid fellow, and a gambler -too, I am told." - -"But a very kind man, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a pathetic -smile, as though she too knew that Count Rostov deserved this censure, -but asked him not to be too hard on the poor old man. "What do the -doctors say?" asked the princess after a pause, her worn face again -expressing deep sorrow. - -"They give little hope," replied the prince. - -"And I should so like to thank Uncle once for all his kindness to me -and Boris. He is his godson," she added, her tone suggesting that this -fact ought to give Prince Vasili much satisfaction. - -Prince Vasili became thoughtful and frowned. Anna Mikhaylovna saw -that he was afraid of finding in her a rival for Count Bezukhov's -fortune, and hastened to reassure him. - -"If it were not for my sincere affection and devotion to Uncle," -said she, uttering the word with peculiar assurance and unconcern, -"I know his character: noble, upright... but you see he has no one -with him except the young princesses.... They are still young...." She -bent her head and continued in a whisper: "Has he performed his -final duty, Prince? How priceless are those last moments! It can -make things no worse, and it is absolutely necessary to prepare him if -he is so ill. We women, Prince," and she smiled tenderly, "always know -how to say these things. I absolutely must see him, however painful it -may be for me. I am used to suffering." - -Evidently the prince understood her, and also understood, as he -had done at Anna Pavlovna's, that it would be difficult to get rid -of Anna Mikhaylovna. - -"Would not such a meeting be too trying for him, dear Anna -Mikhaylovna?" said he. "Let us wait until evening. The doctors are -expecting a crisis." - -"But one cannot delay, Prince, at such a moment! Consider that the -welfare of his soul is at stake. Ah, it is awful: the duties of a -Christian..." - -A door of one of the inner rooms opened and one of the princesses, -the count's niece, entered with a cold, stern face. The length of -her body was strikingly out of proportion to her short legs. Prince -Vasili turned to her. - -"Well, how is he?" - -"Still the same; but what can you expect, this noise..." said the -princess, looking at Anna Mikhaylovna as at a stranger. - -"Ah, my dear, I hardly knew you," said Anna Mikhaylovna with a happy -smile, ambling lightly up to the count's niece. "I have come, and am -at your service to help you nurse my uncle. I imagine what you have -gone through," and she sympathetically turned up her eyes. - -The princess gave no reply and did not even smile, but left the room -at Anna Mikhaylovna took off her gloves and, occupying the position -she had conquered, settled down in an armchair, inviting Prince Vasili -to take a seat beside her. - -"Boris," she said to her son with a smile, "I shall go in to see the -count, my uncle; but you, my dear, had better go to Pierre meanwhile -and don't forget to give him the Rostovs' invitation. They ask him -to dinner. I suppose he won't go?" she continued, turning to the -prince. - -"On the contrary," replied the prince, who had plainly become -depressed, "I shall be only too glad if you relieve me of that young -man.... Here he is, and the count has not once asked for him." - -He shrugged his shoulders. A footman conducted Boris down one flight -of stairs and up another, to Pierre's rooms. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Pierre, after all, had not managed to choose a career for himself in -Petersburg, and had been expelled from there for riotous conduct and -sent to Moscow. The story told about him at Count Rostov's was true. -Pierre had taken part in tying a policeman to a bear. He had now -been for some days in Moscow and was staying as usual at his -father's house. Though he expected that the story of his escapade -would be already known in Moscow and that the ladies about his father- -who were never favorably disposed toward him- would have used it to -turn the count against him, he nevertheless on the day of his -arrival went to his father's part of the house. Entering the drawing -room, where the princesses spent most of their time, he greeted the -ladies, two of whom were sitting at embroidery frames while a third -read aloud. It was the eldest who was reading- the one who had met -Anna Mikhaylovna. The two younger ones were embroidering: both were -rosy and pretty and they differed only in that one had a little mole -on her lip which made her much prettier. Pierre was received as if -he were a corpse or a leper. The eldest princess paused in her reading -and silently stared at him with frightened eyes; the second assumed -precisely the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the -mole, who was of a cheerful and lively disposition, bent over her -frame to hide a smile probably evoked by the amusing scene she -foresaw. She drew her wool down through the canvas and, scarcely -able to refrain from laughing, stooped as if trying to make out the -pattern. - -"How do you do, cousin?" said Pierre. "You don't recognize me?" - -"I recognize you only too well, too well." - -"How is the count? Can I see him?" asked Pierre, awkwardly as usual, -but unabashed. - -"The count is suffering physically and mentally, and apparently -you have done your best to increase his mental sufferings." - -"Can I see the count?" Pierre again asked. - -"Hm.... If you wish to kill him, to kill him outright, you can see -him... Olga, go and see whether Uncle's beef tea is ready- it is -almost time," she added, giving Pierre to understand that they were -busy, and busy making his father comfortable, while evidently he, -Pierre, was only busy causing him annoyance. - -Olga went out. Pierre stood looking at the sisters; then he bowed -and said: "Then I will go to my rooms. You will let me know when I can -see him." - -And he left the room, followed by the low but ringing laughter of -the sister with the mole. - -Next day Prince Vasili had arrived and settled in the count's house. -He sent for Pierre and said to him: "My dear fellow, if you are -going to behave here as you did in Petersburg, you will end very -badly; that is all I have to say to you. The count is very, very -ill, and you must not see him at all." - -Since then Pierre had not been disturbed and had spent the whole -time in his rooms upstairs. - -When Boris appeared at his door Pierre was pacing up and down his -room, stopping occasionally at a corner to make menacing gestures at -the wall, as if running a sword through an invisible foe, and -glaring savagely over his spectacles, and then again resuming his -walk, muttering indistinct words, shrugging his shoulders and -gesticulating. - -"England is done for," said he, scowling and pointing his finger -at someone unseen. "Mr. Pitt, as a traitor to the nation and to the -rights of man, is sentenced to..." But before Pierre- who at that -moment imagined himself to be Napoleon in person and to have just -effected the dangerous crossing of the Straits of Dover and captured -London- could pronounce Pitt's sentence, he saw a well-built and -handsome young officer entering his room. Pierre paused. He had left -Moscow when Boris was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten -him, but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Boris by the -hand with a friendly smile. - -"Do you remember me?" asked Boris quietly with a pleasant smile. -"I have come with my mother to see the count, but it seems he is not -well." - -"Yes, it seems he is ill. People are always disturbing him," -answered Pierre, trying to remember who this young man was. - -Boris felt that Pierre did not recognize him but did not consider it -necessary to introduce himself, and without experiencing the least -embarrassment looked Pierre straight in the face. - -"Count Rostov asks you to come to dinner today," said he, after a -considerable pause which made Pierre feel uncomfortable. - -"Ah, Count Rostov!" exclaimed Pierre joyfully. "Then you are his -son, Ilya? Only fancy, I didn't know you at first. Do you remember how -we went to the Sparrow Hills with Madame Jacquot?... It's such an -age..." - -"You are mistaken," said Boris deliberately, with a bold and -slightly sarcastic smile. "I am Boris, son of Princess Anna -Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya. Rostov, the father, is Ilya, and his son is -Nicholas. I never knew any Madame Jacquot." - -Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitoes or bees. - -"Oh dear, what am I thinking about? I've mixed everything up. One -has so many relatives in Moscow! So you are Boris? Of course. Well, -now we know where we are. And what do you think of the Boulogne -expedition? The English will come off badly, you know, if Napoleon -gets across the Channel. I think the expedition is quite feasible. -If only Villeneuve doesn't make a mess of things! - -Boris knew nothing about the Boulogne expedition; he did not read -the papers and it was the first time he had heard Villeneuve's name. - -"We here in Moscow are more occupied with dinner parties and scandal -than with politics," said he in his quiet ironical tone. "I know -nothing about it and have not thought about it. Moscow is chiefly busy -with gossip," he continued. "Just now they are talking about you and -your father." - -Pierre smiled in his good-natured way as if afraid for his -companion's sake that the latter might say something he would -afterwards regret. But Boris spoke distinctly, clearly, and dryly, -looking straight into Pierre's eyes. - -"Moscow has nothing else to do but gossip," Boris went on. -"Everybody is wondering to whom the count will leave his fortune, -though he may perhaps outlive us all, as I sincerely hope he will..." - -"Yes, it is all very horrid," interrupted Pierre, "very horrid." - -Pierre was still afraid that this officer might inadvertently say -something disconcerting to himself. - -"And it must seem to you," said Boris flushing slightly, but not -changing his tone or attitude, "it must seem to you that everyone is -trying to get something out of the rich man?" - -"So it does," thought Pierre. - -"But I just wish to say, to avoid misunderstandings, that you are -quite mistaken if you reckon me or my mother among such people. We are -very poor, but for my own part at any rate, for the very reason that -your father is rich, I don't regard myself as a relation of his, and -neither I nor my mother would ever ask or take anything from him." - -For a long time Pierre could not understand, but when he did, he -jumped up from the sofa, seized Boris under the elbow in his quick, -clumsy way, and, blushing far more than Boris, began to speak with a -feeling of mingled shame and vexation. - -"Well, this is strange! Do you suppose I... who could think?... I -know very well..." - -But Boris again interrupted him. - -"I am glad I have spoken out fully. Perhaps you did not like it? You -must excuse me," said he, putting Pierre at ease instead of being -put at ease by him, "but I hope I have not offended you. I always make -it a rule to speak out... Well, what answer am I to take? Will you -come to dinner at the Rostovs'?" - -And Boris, having apparently relieved himself of an onerous duty and -extricated himself from an awkward situation and placed another in it, -became quite pleasant again. - -"No, but I say," said Pierre, calming down, "you are a wonderful -fellow! What you have just said is good, very good. Of course you -don't know me. We have not met for such a long time... not since we -were children. You might think that I... I understand, quite -understand. I could not have done it myself, I should not have had the -courage, but it's splendid. I am very glad to have made your -acquaintance. It's queer," he added after a pause, "that you should -have suspected me!" He began to laugh. "Well, what of it! I hope we'll -get better acquainted," and he pressed Boris' hand. "Do you know, I -have not once been in to see the count. He has not sent for me.... I -am sorry for him as a man, but what can one do?" - -"And so you think Napoleon will manage to get an army across?" asked -Boris with a smile. - -Pierre saw that Boris wished to change the subject, and being of the -same mind he began explaining the advantages and disadvantages of -the Boulogne expedition. - -A footman came in to summon Boris- the princess was going. Pierre, -in order to make Boris' better acquaintance, promised to come to -dinner, and warmly pressing his hand looked affectionately over his -spectacles into Boris' eyes. After he had gone Pierre continued pacing -up and down the room for a long time, no longer piercing an -imaginary foe with his imaginary sword, but smiling at the remembrance -of that pleasant, intelligent, and resolute young man. - -As often happens in early youth, especially to one who leads a -lonely life, he felt an unaccountable tenderness for this young man -and made up his mind that they would be friends. - -Prince Vasili saw the princess off. She held a handkerchief to her -eyes and her face was tearful. - -"It is dreadful, dreadful!" she was saying, "but cost me what it may -I shall do my duty. I will come and spend the night. He must not be -left like this. Every moment is precious. I can't think why his nieces -put it off. Perhaps God will help me to find a way to prepare -him!... Adieu, Prince! May God support you..." - -"Adieu, ma bonne," answered Prince Vasili turning away from her. - -"Oh, he is in a dreadful state," said the mother to her son when -they were in the carriage. "He hardly recognizes anybody." - -"I don't understand, Mamma- what is his attitude to Pierre?" asked -the son. - -"The will will show that, my dear; our fate also depends on it." - -"But why do you expect that he will leave us anything?" - -"Ah, my dear! He is so rich, and we are so poor!" - -"Well, that is hardly a sufficient reason, Mamma..." - -"Oh, Heaven! How ill he is!" exclaimed the mother. - -CHAPTER XVII - -After Anna Mikhaylovna had driven off with her son to visit Count -Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov, Countess Rostova sat for a long time all -alone applying her handkerchief to her eyes. At last she rang. - -"What is the matter with you, my dear?" she said crossly to the maid -who kept her waiting some minutes. "Don't you wish to serve me? Then -I'll find you another place." - -The countess was upset by her friend's sorrow and humiliating -poverty, and was therefore out of sorts, a state of mind which with -her always found expression in calling her maid "my dear" and speaking -to her with exaggerated politeness. - -"I am very sorry, ma'am," answered the maid. - -"Ask the count to come to me." - -The count came waddling in to see his wife with a rather guilty look -as usual. - -"Well, little countess? What a saute of game au madere we are to -have, my dear! I tasted it. The thousand rubles I paid for Taras -were not ill-spent. He is worth it!" - -He sat down by his wife, his elbows on his knees and his hands -ruffling his gray hair. - -"What are your commands, little countess?" - -"You see, my dear... What's that mess?" she said, pointing to his -waistcoat. "It's, the saute, most likely," she added with a smile. -"Well, you see, Count, I want some money." - -Her face became sad. - -"Oh, little countess!"... and the count began bustling to get out -his pocketbook. - -"I want a great deal, Count! I want five hundred rubles," and taking -out her cambric handkerchief she began wiping her husband's waistcoat. - -"Yes, immediately, immediately! Hey, who's there?" he called out -in a tone only used by persons who are certain that those they call -will rush to obey the summons. "Send Dmitri to me!" - -Dmitri, a man of good family who had been brought up in the -count's house and now managed all his affairs, stepped softly into the -room. - -"This is what I want, my dear fellow," said the count to the -deferential young man who had entered. "Bring me..." he reflected a -moment, "yes, bring me seven hundred rubles, yes! But mind, don't -bring me such tattered and dirty notes as last time, but nice clean -ones for the countess." - -"Yes, Dmitri, clean ones, please," said the countess, sighing -deeply. - -"When would you like them, your excellency?" asked Dmitri. "Allow me -to inform you... But, don't be uneasy," he added, noticing that the -count was beginning to breathe heavily and quickly which was always -a sign of approaching anger. "I was forgetting... Do you wish it -brought at once?" - -"Yes, yes; just so! Bring it. Give it to the countess." - -"What a treasure that Dmitri is," added the count with a smile -when the young man had departed. "There is never any 'impossible' with -him. That's a thing I hate! Everything is possible." - -"Ah, money, Count, money! How much sorrow it causes in the world," -said the countess. "But I am in great need of this sum." - -"You, my little countess, are a notorious spendthrift," said the -count, and having kissed his wife's hand he went back to his study. - -When Anna Mikhaylovna returned from Count Bezukhov's the money, -all in clean notes, was lying ready under a handkerchief on the -countess' little table, and Anna Mikhaylovna noticed that something -was agitating her. - -"Well, my dear?" asked the countess. - -"Oh, what a terrible state he is in! One would not know him, he is -so ill! I was only there a few moments and hardly said a word..." - -"Annette, for heaven's sake don't refuse me," the countess began, -with a blush that looked very strange on her thin, dignified, -elderly face, and she took the money from under the handkerchief. - -Anna Mikhaylovna instantly guessed her intention and stooped to be -ready to embrace the countess at the appropriate moment. - -"This is for Boris from me, for his outfit." - -Anna Mikhaylovna was already embracing her and weeping. The countess -wept too. They wept because they were friends, and because they were -kindhearted, and because they- friends from childhood- had to think -about such a base thing as money, and because their youth was over.... -But those tears were pleasant to them both. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Countess Rostova, with her daughters and a large number of guests, -was already seated in the drawing room. The count took the gentlemen -into his study and showed them his choice collection of Turkish pipes. -From time to time he went out to ask: "Hasn't she come yet?" They were -expecting Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, known in society as le -terrible dragon, a lady distinguished not for wealth or rank, but -for common sense and frank plainness of speech. Marya Dmitrievna was -known to the Imperial family as well as to all Moscow and -Petersburg, and both cities wondered at her, laughed privately at -her rudenesses, and told good stories about her, while none the less -all without exception respected and feared her. - -In the count's room, which was full of tobacco smoke, they talked of -war that had been announced in a manifesto, and about the -recruiting. None of them had yet seen the manifesto, but they all knew -it had appeared. The count sat on the sofa between two guests who were -smoking and talking. He neither smoked nor talked, but bending his -head first to one side and then to the other watched the smokers -with evident pleasure and listened to the conversation of his two -neighbors, whom he egged on against each other. - -One of them was a sallow, clean-shaven civilian with a thin and -wrinkled face, already growing old, though he was dressed like a -most fashionable young man. He sat with his legs up on the sofa as -if quite at home and, having stuck an amber mouthpiece far into his -mouth, was inhaling the smoke spasmodically and screwing up his -eyes. This was an old bachelor, Shinshin, a cousin of the countess', a -man with "a sharp tongue" as they said in Moscow society. He seemed to -be condescending to his companion. The latter, a fresh, rosy officer -of the Guards, irreproachably washed, brushed, and buttoned, held -his pipe in the middle of his mouth and with red lips gently inhaled -the smoke, letting it escape from his handsome mouth in rings. This -was Lieutenant Berg, an officer in the Semenov regiment with whom -Boris was to travel to join the army, and about whom Natasha had, -teased her elder sister Vera, speaking of Berg as her "intended." -The count sat between them and listened attentively. His favorite -occupation when not playing boston, a card game he was very fond of, -was that of listener, especially when he succeeded in setting two -loquacious talkers at one another. - -"Well, then, old chap, mon tres honorable Alphonse Karlovich," -said Shinshin, laughing ironically and mixing the most ordinary -Russian expressions with the choicest French phrases- which was a -peculiarity of his speech. "Vous comptez vous faire des rentes sur -l'etat;~{ You expect to make an income out of the government. }~ you want to make something out of your company?" - -"No, Peter Nikolaevich; I only want to show that in the cavalry -the advantages are far less than in the infantry. Just consider my own -position now, Peter Nikolaevich..." - -Berg always spoke quietly, politely, and with great precision. His -conversation always related entirely to himself; he would remain -calm and silent when the talk related to any topic that had no -direct bearing on himself. He could remain silent for hours without -being at all put out of countenance himself or making others -uncomfortable, but as soon as the conversation concerned himself he -would begin to talk circumstantially and with evident satisfaction. - -"Consider my position, Peter Nikolaevich. Were I in the cavalry I -should get not more than two hundred rubles every four months, even -with the rank of lieutenant; but as it is I receive two hundred and -thirty," said he, looking at Shinshin and the count with a joyful, -pleasant smile, as if it were obvious to him that his success must -always be the chief desire of everyone else. - -"Besides that, Peter Nikolaevich, by exchanging into the Guards I -shall be in a more prominent position," continued Berg, "and vacancies -occur much more frequently in the Foot Guards. Then just think what -can be done with two hundred and thirty rubles! I even manage to put a -little aside and to send something to my father," he went on, emitting -a smoke ring. - -"La balance y est...~{ So that squares matters. }~ A German knows how to skin a flint, as the -proverb says," remarked Shinshin, moving his pipe to the other side of -his mouth and winking at the count. - -The count burst out laughing. The other guests seeing that -Shinshin was talking came up to listen. Berg, oblivious of irony or -indifference, continued to explain how by exchanging into the Guards -he had already gained a step on his old comrades of the Cadet Corps; -how in wartime the company commander might get killed and he, as -senior in the company, might easily succeed to the post; how popular -he was with everyone in the regiment, and how satisfied his father was -with him. Berg evidently enjoyed narrating all this, and did not -seem to suspect that others, too, might have their own interests. -But all he said was so prettily sedate, and the naivete of his -youthful egotism was so obvious, that he disarmed his hearers. - -"Well, my boy, you'll get along wherever you go- foot or horse- that -I'll warrant," said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and taking -his feet off the sofa. - -Berg smiled joyously. The count, by his guests, went into the -drawing room. - -It was just the moment before a big dinner when the assembled -guests, expecting the summons to zakuska,~{ Hors d'oeuvres. }~ avoid engaging in any -long conversation but think it necessary to move about and talk, in -order to show that they are not at all impatient for their food. The -host and hostess look toward the door, and now and then glance at -one another, and the visitors try to guess from these glances who, -or what, they are waiting for- some important relation who has not yet -arrived, or a dish that is not yet ready. - -Pierre had come just at dinnertime and was sitting awkwardly in -the middle of the drawing room on the first chair he had come -across, blocking the way for everyone. The countess tried to make -him talk, but he went on naively looking around through his spectacles -as if in search of somebody and answered all her questions in -monosyllables. He was in the way and was the only one who did not -notice the fact. Most of the guests, knowing of the affair with the -bear, looked with curiosity at this big, stout, quiet man, wondering -how such a clumsy, modest fellow could have played such a prank on a -policeman. - -"You have only lately arrived?" the countess asked him. - -"Oui, madame," replied he, looking around him. - -"You have not yet seen my husband?" - -"Non, madame." He smiled quite inappropriately. - -"You have been in Paris recently, I believe? I suppose it's very -interesting." - -"Very interesting." - -The countess exchanged glances with Anna Mikhaylovna. The latter -understood that she was being asked to entertain this young man, and -sitting down beside him she began to speak about his father; but he -answered her, as he had the countess, only in monosyllables. The other -guests were all conversing with one another. "The Razumovskis... It -was charming... You are very kind... Countess Apraksina..." was -heard on all sides. The countess rose and went into the ballroom. - -"Marya Dmitrievna?" came her voice from there. - -"Herself," came the answer in a rough voice, and Marya Dmitrievna -entered the room. - -All the unmarried ladies and even the married ones except the very -oldest rose. Marya Dmitrievna paused at the door. Tall and stout, -holding high her fifty-year-old head with its gray curls, she stood -surveying the guests, and leisurely arranged her wide sleeves as if -rolling them up. Marya Dmitrievna always spoke in Russian. - -"Health and happiness to her whose name day we are keeping and to -her children," she said, in her loud, full-toned voice which drowned -all others. "Well, you old sinner," she went on, turning to the -count who was kissing her hand, "you're feeling dull in Moscow, I -daresay? Nowhere to hunt with your dogs? But what is to be done, old -man? Just see how these nestlings are growing up," and she pointed -to the girls. "You must look for husbands for them whether you like it -or not...." - -Well," said she, "how's my Cossack?" (Marya Dmitrievna always called -Natasha a Cossack) and she stroked the child's arm as she came up -fearless and gay to kiss her hand. "I know she's a scamp of a girl, -but I like her." - -She took a pair of pear-shaped ruby earrings from her huge -reticule and, having given them to the rosy Natasha, who beamed with -the pleasure of her saint's-day fete, turned away at once and -addressed herself to Pierre. - -"Eh, eh, friend! Come here a bit," said she, assuming a soft high -tone of voice. "Come here, my friend..." and she ominously tucked up -her sleeves still higher. Pierre approached, looking at her in a -childlike way through his spectacles. - -"Come nearer, come nearer, friend! I used to be the only one to tell -your father the truth when he was in favor, and in your case it's my -evident duty." She paused. All were silent, expectant of what was to -follow, for this was dearly only a prelude. - -"A fine lad! My word! A fine lad!... His father lies on his deathbed -and he amuses himself setting a policeman astride a bear! For shame, -sir, for shame! It would be better if you went to the war." - -She turned away and gave her hand to the count, who could hardly -keep from laughing. - -"Well, I suppose it is time we were at table?" said Marya -Dmitrievna. - -The count went in first with Marya Dmitrievna, the countess followed -on the arm of a colonel of hussars, a man of importance to them -because Nicholas was to go with him to the regiment; then came Anna -Mikhaylovna with Shinshin. Berg gave his arm to Vera. The smiling -Julie Karagina went in with Nicholas. After them other couples -followed, filling the whole dining hall, and last of all the children, -tutors, and governesses followed singly. The footmen began moving -about, chairs scraped, the band struck up in the gallery, and the -guests settled down in their places. Then the strains of the count's -household band were replaced by the clatter of knives and forks, the -voices of visitors, and the soft steps of the footmen. At one end of -the table sat the countess with Marya Dmitrievna on her right and Anna -Mikhaylovna on her left, the other lady visitors were farther down. At -the other end sat the count, with the hussar colonel on his left and -Shinshin and the other male visitors on his right. Midway down the -long table on one side sat the grownup young people: Vera beside Berg, -and Pierre beside Boris; and on the other side, the children, -tutors, and governesses. From behind the crystal decanters and fruit -vases the count kept glancing at his wife and her tall cap with its -light-blue ribbons, and busily filled his neighbors' glasses, not -neglecting his own. The countess in turn, without omitting her -duties as hostess, threw significant glances from behind the -pineapples at her husband whose face and bald head seemed by their -redness to contrast more than usual with his gray hair. At the ladies' -end an even chatter of voices was heard all the time, at the men's end -the voices sounded louder and louder, especially that of the colonel -of hussars who, growing more and more flushed, ate and drank so much -that the count held him up as a pattern to the other guests. Berg with -tender smiles was saying to Vera that love is not an earthly but a -heavenly feeling. Boris was telling his new friend Pierre who the -guests were and exchanging glances with Natasha, who was sitting -opposite. Pierre spoke little but examined the new faces, and ate a -great deal. Of the two soups he chose turtle with savory patties and -went on to the game without omitting a single dish or one of the -wines. These latter the butler thrust mysteriously forward, wrapped in -a napkin, from behind the next man's shoulders and whispered: "Dry -Madeira"... "Hungarian"... or "Rhine wine" as the case might be. Of -the four crystal glasses engraved with the count's monogram that stood -before his plate, Pierre held out one at random and drank with -enjoyment, gazing with ever-increasing amiability at the other guests. -Natasha, who sat opposite, was looking at Boris as girls of thirteen -look at the boy they are in love with and have just kissed for the -first time. Sometimes that same look fell on Pierre, and that funny -lively little girl's look made him inclined to laugh without knowing -why. - -Nicholas sat at some distance from Sonya, beside Julie Karagina, -to whom he was again talking with the same involuntary smile. Sonya -wore a company smile but was evidently tormented by jealousy; now -she turned pale, now blushed and strained every nerve to overhear what -Nicholas and Julie were saying to one another. The governess kept -looking round uneasily as if preparing to resent any slight that might -be put upon the children. The German tutor was trying to remember -all the dishes, wines, and kinds of dessert, in order to send a full -description of the dinner to his people in Germany; and he felt -greatly offended when the butler with a bottle wrapped in a napkin -passed him by. He frowned, trying to appear as if he did not want -any of that wine, but was mortified because no one would understand -that it was not to quench his thirst or from greediness that he wanted -it, but simply from a conscientious desire for knowledge. - -CHAPTER XIX - -At the men's end of the table the talk grew more and more -animated. The colonel told them that the declaration of war had -already appeared in Petersburg and that a copy, which he had himself -seen, had that day been forwarded by courier to the commander in -chief. - -"And why the deuce are we going to fight Bonaparte?" remarked -Shinshin. "He has stopped Austria's cackle and I fear it will be our -turn next." - -The colonel was a stout, tall, plethoric German, evidently devoted -to the service and patriotically Russian. He resented Shinshin's -remark. - -"It is for the reasson, my goot sir," said he, speaking with a -German accent, "for the reasson zat ze Emperor knows zat. He -declares in ze manifessto zat he cannot fiew wiz indifference ze -danger vreatening Russia and zat ze safety and dignity of ze Empire as -vell as ze sanctity of its alliances..." he spoke this last word -with particular emphasis as if in it lay the gist of the matter. - -Then with the unerring official memory that characterized him he -repeated from the opening words of the manifesto: - -... and the wish, which constitutes the Emperor's sole and -absolute aim- to establish peace in Europe on firm foundations- has -now decided him to despatch part of the army abroad and to create a -new condition for the attainment of that purpose. - -"Zat, my dear sir, is vy..." he concluded, drinking a tumbler of -wine with dignity and looking to the count for approval. - -"Connaissez-vous le Proverbe:~{ Do you know the proverb? }~ 'Jerome, Jerome, do not roam, but -turn spindles at home!'?" said Shinshin, puckering his brows and -smiling. "Cela nous convient a merveille.~{ That suits us down to the ground. }~ Suvorov now- he knew -what he was about; yet they beat him a plate couture,~{ Hollow. }~ and where -are we to find Suvorovs now? Je vous demande un peu,"~{ I just ask you that. }~ said he, -continually changing from French to Russian. - -"Ve must vight to the last tr-r-op of our plood!" said the -colonel, thumping the table; "and ve must tie for our Emperor, and zen -all vill pe vell. And ve must discuss it as little as po-o-ossible"... -he dwelt particularly on the word possible... "as po-o-ossible," he -ended, again turning to the count. "Zat is how ve old hussars look -at it, and zere's an end of it! And how do you, a young man and a -young hussar, how do you judge of it?" he added, addressing -Nicholas, who when he heard that the war was being discussed had -turned from his partner with eyes and ears intent on the colonel. - -"I am quite of your opinion," replied Nicholas, flaming up, -turning his plate round and moving his wineglasses about with as -much decision and desperation as though he were at that moment -facing some great danger. "I am convinced that we Russians must die or -conquer," he concluded, conscious- as were others- after the words -were uttered that his remarks were too enthusiastic and emphatic for -the occasion and were therefore awkward. - -"What you said just now was splendid!" said his partner Julie. - -Sonya trembled all over and blushed to her ears and behind them -and down to her neck and shoulders while Nicholas was speaking. - -Pierre listened to the colonel's speech and nodded approvingly. - -"That's fine," said he. - -"The young man's a real hussar!" shouted the colonel, again thumping -the table. - -"What are you making such a noise about over there?" Marya -Dmitrievna's deep voice suddenly inquired from the other end of the -table. "What are you thumping the table for?" she demanded of the -hussar, "and why are you exciting yourself? Do you think the French -are here?" - -"I am speaking ze truce," replied the hussar with a smile. - -"It's all about the war," the count shouted down the table. "You -know my son's going, Marya Dmitrievna? My son is going." - -"I have four sons in the army but still I don't fret. It is all in -God's hands. You may die in your bed or God may spare you in a -battle," replied Marya Dmitrievna's deep voice, which easily carried -the whole length of the table. - -"That's true!" - -Once more the conversations concentrated, the ladies' at the one end -and the men's at the other. - -"You won't ask," Natasha's little brother was saying; "I know you -won't ask!" - -"I will," replied Natasha. - -Her face suddenly flushed with reckless and joyous resolution. She -half rose, by a glance inviting Pierre, who sat opposite, to listen to -what was coming, and turning to her mother: - -"Mamma!" rang out the clear contralto notes of her childish voice, -audible the whole length of the table. - -"What is it?" asked the countess, startled; but seeing by her -daughter's face that it was only mischief, she shook a finger at her -sternly with a threatening and forbidding movement of her head. - -The conversation was hushed. - -"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" and Natasha's voice -sounded still more firm and resolute. - -The countess tried to frown, but could not. Marya Dmitrievna shook -her fat finger. - -"Cossack!" she said threateningly. - -Most of the guests, uncertain how to regard this sally, looked at -the elders. - -"You had better take care!" said the countess. - -"Mamma! What sweets are we going to have?" Natasha again cried -boldly, with saucy gaiety, confident that her prank would be taken -in good part. - -Sonya and fat little Petya doubled up with laughter. - -"You see! I have asked," whispered Natasha to her little brother and -to Pierre, glancing at him again. - -"Ice pudding, but you won't get any," said Marya Dmitrievna. - -Natasha saw there was nothing to be afraid of and so she braved even -Marya Dmitrievna. - -"Marya Dmitrievna! What kind of ice pudding? I don't like ice -cream." - -"Carrot ices." - -"No! What kind, Marya Dmitrievna? What kind?" she almost screamed; -"I want to know!" - -Marya Dmitrievna and the countess burst out laughing, and all the -guests joined in. Everyone laughed, not at Marya Dmitrievna's answer -but at the incredible boldness and smartness of this little girl who -had dared to treat Marya Dmitrievna in this fashion. - -Natasha only desisted when she had been told that there would be -pineapple ice. Before the ices, champagne was served round. The band -again struck up, the count and countess kissed, and the guests, -leaving their seats, went up to "congratulate" the countess, and -reached across the table to clink glasses with the count, with the -children, and with one another. Again the footmen rushed about, chairs -scraped, and in the same order in which they had entered but with -redder faces, the guests returned to the drawing room and to the -count's study. - -CHAPTER XX - -The card tables were drawn out, sets made up for boston, and the -count's visitors settled themselves, some in the two drawing rooms, -some in the sitting room, some in the library. - -The count, holding his cards fanwise, kept himself with difficulty -from dropping into his usual after-dinner nap, and laughed at -everything. The young people, at the countess' instigation, gathered -round the clavichord and harp. Julie by general request played -first. After she had played a little air with variations on the -harp, she joined the other young ladies in begging Natasha and -Nicholas, who were noted for their musical talent, to sing -something. Natasha, who was treated as though she were grown up, was -evidently very proud of this but at the same time felt shy. - -"What shall we sing?" she said. - -"'The Brook,'" suggested Nicholas. - -"Well, then,let's be quick. Boris, come here," said Natasha. "But -where is Sonya?" - -She looked round and seeing that her friend was not in the room -ran to look for her. - -Running into Sonya's room and not finding her there, Natasha ran -to the nursery, but Sonya was not there either. Natasha concluded that -she must be on the chest in the passage. The chest in the passage -was the place of mourning for the younger female generation in the -Rostov household. And there in fact was Sonya lying face downward on -Nurse's dirty feather bed on the top of the chest, crumpling her gauzy -pink dress under her, hiding her face with her slender fingers, and -sobbing so convulsively that her bare little shoulders shook. -Natasha's face, which had been so radiantly happy all that saint's -day, suddenly changed: her eyes became fixed, and then a shiver passed -down her broad neck and the corners of her mouth drooped. - -"Sonya! What is it? What is the matter?... Oo... Oo... Oo...!" And -Natasha's large mouth widened, making her look quite ugly, and she -began to wail like a baby without knowing why, except that Sonya was -crying. Sonya tried to lift her head to answer but could not, and -hid her face still deeper in the bed. Natasha wept, sitting on the -blue-striped feather bed and hugging her friend. With an effort -Sonya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining. - -"Nicholas is going away in a week's time, his... papers... have -come... he told me himself... but still I should not cry," and she -showed a paper she held in her hand- with the verses Nicholas had -written, "still, I should not cry, but you can't... no one can -understand... what a soul he has!" - -And she began to cry again because he had such a noble soul. - -"It's all very well for you... I am not envious... I love you and -Boris also," she went on, gaining a little strength; "he is nice... -there are no difficulties in your way.... But Nicholas is my cousin... -one would have to... the Metropolitan himself... and even then it -can't be done. And besides, if she tells Mamma" (Sonya looked upon the -countess as her mother and called her so) "that I am spoiling -Nicholas' career and am heartless and ungrateful, while truly... God -is my witness," and she made the sign of the cross, "I love her so -much, and all of you, only Vera... And what for? What have I done to -her? I am so grateful to you that I would willingly sacrifice -everything, only I have nothing...." - -Sonya could not continue, and again hid her face in her hands and in -the feather bed. Natasha began consoling her, but her face showed that -she understood all the gravity of her friend's trouble. - -"Sonya," she suddenly exclaimed, as if she had guessed the true -reason of her friend's sorrow, "I'm sure Vera has said something to -you since dinner? Hasn't she?" - -"Yes, these verses Nicholas wrote himself and I copied some -others, and she found them on my table and said she'd show them to -Mamma, and that I was ungrateful, and that Mamma would never allow him -to marry me, but that he'll marry Julie. You see how he's been with -her all day... Natasha, what have I done to deserve it?..." - -And again she began to sob, more bitterly than before. Natasha -lifted her up, hugged her, and, smiling through her tears, began -comforting her. - -"Sonya, don't believe her, darling! Don't believe her! Do you -remember how we and Nicholas, all three of us, talked in the sitting -room after supper? Why, we settled how everything was to be. I don't -quite remember how, but don't you remember that it could all be -arranged and how nice it all was? There's Uncle Shinshin's brother has -married his first cousin. And we are only second cousins, you know. -And Boris says it is quite possible. You know I have told him all -about it. And he is so clever and so good!" said Natasha. "Don't you -cry, Sonya, dear love, darling Sonya!" and she kissed her and laughed. -"Vera's spiteful; never mind her! And all will come right and she -won't say anything to Mamma. Nicholas will tell her himself, and he -doesn't care at all for Julie." - -Natasha kissed her on the hair. - -Sonya sat up. The little kitten brightened, its eyes shone, and it -seemed ready to lift its tail, jump down on its soft paws, and begin -playing with the ball of worsted as a kitten should. - -"Do you think so?... Really? Truly?" she said, quickly smoothing her -frock and hair. - -"Really, truly!" answered Natasha, pushing in a crisp lock that -had strayed from under her friend's plaits. - -Both laughed. - -"Well, let's go and sing 'The Brook.'" - -"Come along!" - -"Do you know, that fat Pierre who sat opposite me is so funny!" said -Natasha, stopping suddenly. "I feel so happy!" - -And she set off at a run along the passage. - -Sonya, shaking off some down which clung to her and tucking away the -verses in the bosom of her dress close to her bony little chest, ran -after Natasha down the passage into the sitting room with flushed face -and light, joyous steps. At the visitors' request the young people -sang the quartette, "The Brook," with which everyone was delighted. -Then Nicholas sang a song he had just learned: - -poem{ - -At nighttime in the moon's fair glow -How sweet, as fancies wander free, -To feel that in this world there's one -Who still is thinking but of thee! - -That while her fingers touch the harp -Wafting sweet music music the lea, -It is for thee thus swells her heart, -Sighing its message out to thee... - -A day or two, then bliss unspoilt, -But oh! till then I cannot live!... - -}poem - -He had not finished the last verse before the young people began -to get ready to dance in the large hall, and the sound of the feet and -the coughing of the musicians were heard from the gallery. - -Pierre was sitting in the drawing-room where Shinshin had engaged -him, as a man recently returned from abroad, in a political -conversation in which several others joined but which bored Pierre. -When the music began Natasha came in and walking straight up to Pierre -said, laughing and blushing: - -"Mamma told me to ask you to join the dancers." - -"I am afraid of mixing the figures," Pierre replied; "but if you -will be my teacher..." And lowering his big arm he offered it to the -slender little girl. - -While the couples were arranging themselves and the musicians tuning -up, Pierre sat down with his little partner. Natasha was perfectly -happy; she was dancing with a grown-up man, who had been abroad. She -was sitting in a conspicuous place and talking to him like a -grown-up lady. She had a fan in her hand that one of the ladies had -given her to hold. Assuming quite the pose of a society woman -(heaven knows when and where she had learned it) she talked with her -partner, fanning herself and smiling over the fan. - -"Dear, dear! Just look at her!" exclaimed the countess as she -crossed the ballroom, pointing to Natasha. - -Natasha blushed and laughed. - -"Well, really, Mamma! Why should you? What is there to be -surprised at?" - -In the midst of the third ecossaise there was a clatter of chairs -being pushed back in the sitting room where the count and Marya -Dmitrievna had been playing cards with the majority of the more -distinguished and older visitors. They now, stretching themselves -after sitting so long, and replacing their purses and pocketbooks, -entered the ballroom. First came Marya Dmitrievna and the count, -both with merry countenances. The count, with playful ceremony -somewhat in ballet style, offered his bent arm to Marya Dmitrievna. He -drew himself up, a smile of debonair gallantry lit up his face and -as soon as the last figure of the ecossaise was ended, he clapped -his hands to the musicians and shouted up to their gallery, addressing -the first violin: - -"Semen! Do you know the Daniel Cooper?" - -This was the count's favorite dance, which he had danced in his -youth. (Strictly speaking, Daniel Cooper was one figure of the -anglaise.) - -"Look at Papa!" shouted Natasha to the whole company, and quite -forgetting that she was dancing with a grown-up partner she bent her -curly head to her knees and made the whole room ring with her -laughter. - -And indeed everybody in the room looked with a smile of pleasure -at the jovial old gentleman, who standing beside his tall and stout -partner, Marya Dmitrievna, curved his arms, beat time, straightened -his shoulders, turned out his toes, tapped gently with his foot, -and, by a smile that broadened his round face more and more, -prepared the onlookers for what was to follow. As soon as the -provocatively gay strains of Daniel Cooper (somewhat resembling -those of a merry peasant dance) began to sound, all the doorways of -the ballroom were suddenly filled by the domestic serfs- the men on -one side and the women on the other- who with beaming faces had come -to see their master making merry. - -"Just look at the master! A regular eagle he is!" loudly remarked -the nurse, as she stood in one of the doorways. - -The count danced well and knew it. But his partner could not and did -not want to dance well. Her enormous figure stood erect, her -powerful arms hanging down (she had handed her reticule to the -countess), and only her stern but handsome face really joined in the -dance. What was expressed by the whole of the count's plump figure, in -Marya Dmitrievna found expression only in her more and more beaming -face and quivering nose. But if the count, getting more and more -into the swing of it, charmed the spectators by the unexpectedness -of his adroit maneuvers and the agility with which he capered about on -his light feet, Marya Dmitrievna produced no less impression by slight -exertions- the least effort to move her shoulders or bend her arms -when turning, or stamp her foot- which everyone appreciated in view of -her size and habitual severity. The dance grew livelier and -livelier. The other couples could not attract a moment's attention -to their own evolutions and did not even try to do so. All were -watching the count and Marya Dmitrievna. Natasha kept pulling everyone -by sleeve or dress, urging them to "look at Papa!" though as it was -they never took their eyes off the couple. In the intervals of the -dance the count, breathing deeply, waved and shouted to the -musicians to play faster. Faster, faster, and faster; lightly, more -lightly, and yet more lightly whirled the count, flying round Marya -Dmitrievna, now on his toes, now on his heels; until, turning his -partner round to her seat, he executed the final pas, raising his soft -foot backwards, bowing his perspiring head, smiling and making a -wide sweep with his arm, amid a thunder of applause and laughter led -by Natasha. Both partners stood still, breathing heavily and wiping -their faces with their cambric handkerchiefs. - -"That's how we used to dance in our time, ma chere," said the count. - -"That was a Daniel Cooper!" exclaimed Marya Dmitrievna, tucking up -her sleeves and puffing heavily. - -CHAPTER XXI - -While in the Rostovs' ballroom the sixth anglaise was being -danced, to a tune in which the weary musicians blundered, and while -tired footmen and cooks were getting the supper, Count Bezukhov had -a sixth stroke. The doctors pronounced recovery impossible. After a -mute confession, communion was administered to the dying man, -preparations made for the sacrament of unction, and in his house there -was the bustle and thrill of suspense usual at such moments. Outside -the house, beyond the gates, a group of undertakers, who hid -whenever a carriage drove up, waited in expectation of an important -order for an expensive funeral. The Military Governor of Moscow, who -had been assiduous in sending aides-de-camp to inquire after the -count's health, came himself that evening to bid a last farewell to -the celebrated grandee of Catherine's court, Count Bezukhov. - -The magnificent reception room was crowded. Everyone stood up -respectfully when the Military Governor, having stayed about half an -hour alone with the dying man, passed out, slightly acknowledging -their bows and trying to escape as quickly as from the glances fixed -on him by the doctors, clergy, and relatives of the family. Prince -Vasili, who had grown thinner and paler during the last few days, -escorted him to the door, repeating something to him several times -in low tones. - -When the Military Governor had gone, Prince Vasili sat down all -alone on a chair in the ballroom, crossing one leg high over the -other, leaning his elbow on his knee and covering his face with his -hand. After sitting so for a while he rose, and, looking about him -with frightened eyes, went with unusually hurried steps down the -long corridor leading to the back of the house, to the room of the -eldest princess. - -Those who were in the dimly lit reception room spoke in nervous -whispers, and, whenever anyone went into or came from the dying -man's room, grew silent and gazed with eyes full of curiosity or -expectancy at his door, which creaked slightly when opened. - -"The limits of human life... are fixed and may not be o'erpassed," -said an old priest to a lady who had taken a seat beside him and was -listening naively to his words. - -"I wonder, is it not too late to administer unction?" asked the -lady, adding the priest's clerical title, as if she had no opinion -of her own on the subject. - -"Ah, madam, it is a great sacrament, "replied the priest, passing -his hand over the thin grizzled strands of hair combed back across his -bald head. - -"Who was that? The Military Governor himself?" was being asked at -the other side of the room. "How young-looking he is!" - -"Yes, and he is over sixty. I hear the count no longer recognizes -anyone. They wished to administer the sacrament of unction." - -"I knew someone who received that sacrament seven times." - -The second princess had just come from the sickroom with her eyes -red from weeping and sat down beside Dr. Lorrain, who was sitting in a -graceful pose under a portrait of Catherine, leaning his elbow on a -table. - -"Beautiful," said the doctor in answer to a remark about the -weather. "The weather is beautiful, Princess; and besides, in Moscow -one feels as if one were in the country." - -"Yes, indeed," replied the princess with a sigh. "So he may have -something to drink?" - -Lorrain considered. - -"Has he taken his medicine?" - -"Yes." - -The doctor glanced at his watch. - -"Take a glass of boiled water and put a pinch of cream of tartar," -and he indicated with his delicate fingers what he meant by a pinch. - -"Dere has neffer been a gase," a German doctor was saying to an -aide-de-camp, "dat one liffs after de sird stroke." - -"And what a well-preserved man he was!" remarked the aide-de-camp. -"And who will inherit his wealth?" he added in a whisper. - -"It von't go begging," replied the German with a smile. - -Everyone again looked toward the door, which creaked as the second -princess went in with the drink she had prepared according to -Lorrain's instructions. The German doctor went up to Lorrain. - -"Do you think he can last till morning?" asked the German, -addressing Lorrain in French which he pronounced badly. - -Lorrain, pursing up his lips, waved a severely negative finger -before his nose. - -"Tonight, not later," said he in a low voice, and he moved away with -a decorous smile of self-satisfaction at being able clearly to -understand and state the patient's condition. - -Meanwhile Prince Vasili had opened the door into the princess' room. - -In this room it was almost dark; only two tiny lamps were burning -before the icons and there was a pleasant scent of flowers and burnt -pastilles. The room was crowded with small pieces of furniture, -whatnots, cupboards, and little tables. The quilt of a high, white -feather bed was just visible behind a screen. A small dog began to -bark. - -"Ah, is it you, cousin?" - -She rose and smoothed her hair, which was as usual so extremely -smooth that it seemed to be made of one piece with her head and -covered with varnish. - -"Has anything happened?" she asked. "I am so terrified." - -"No, there is no change. I only came to have a talk about -business, Catiche,"~{ Catherine. }~ muttered the prince, seating himself wearily on -the chair she had just vacated. "You have made the place warm, I -must say," he remarked. "Well, sit down: let's have a talk." - -"I thought perhaps something had happened," she said with her -unchanging stonily severe expression; and, sitting down opposite the -prince, she prepared to listen. - -"I wished to get a nap, mon cousin, but I can't." - -"Well, my dear?" said Prince Vasili, taking her hand and bending -it downwards as was his habit. - -It was plain that this "well?" referred to much that they both -understood without naming. - -The princess, who had a straight, rigid body, abnormally long for -her legs, looked directly at Prince Vasili with no sign of emotion -in her prominent gray eyes. Then she shook her head and glanced up -at the icons with a sigh. This might have been taken as an -expression of sorrow and devotion, or of weariness and hope of resting -before long. Prince Vasili understood it as an expression of -weariness. - -"And I?" he said; "do you think it is easier for me? I am as worn -out as a post horse, but still I must have a talk with you, Catiche, a -very serious talk." - -Prince Vasili said no more and his cheeks began to twitch nervously, -now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasant -expression which was never to be seen on it in a drawing room. His -eyes too seemed strange; at one moment they looked impudently sly -and at the next glanced round in alarm. - -The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bony -hands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolved -not to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning. - -"Well, you see, my dear princess and cousin, Catherine Semenovna," -continued Prince Vasili, returning to his theme, apparently not -without an inner struggle; "at such a moment as this one must think of -everything. One must think of the future, of all of you... I love -you all, like children of my own, as you know." - -The princess continued to look at him without moving, and with the -same dull expression. - -"And then of course my family has also to be considered," Prince -Vasili went on, testily pushing away a little table without looking at -her. "You know, Catiche, that we- you three sisters, Mamontov, and -my wife- are the count's only direct heirs. I know, I know how hard it -is for you to talk or think of such matters. It is no easier for me; -but, my dear, I am getting on for sixty and must be prepared for -anything. Do you know I have sent for Pierre? The count," pointing -to his portrait, "definitely demanded that he should be called." - -Prince Vasili looked questioningly at the princess, but could not -make out whether she was considering what he had just said or -whether she was simply looking at him. - -"There is one thing I constantly pray God to grant, mon cousin," she -replied, "and it is that He would be merciful to him and would allow -his noble soul peacefully to leave this..." - -"Yes, yes, of course," interrupted Prince Vasili impatiently, -rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the little -table that he had pushed away. "But... in short, the fact is... you -know yourself that last winter the count made a will by which he -left all his property, not to us his direct heirs, but to Pierre." - -"He has made wills enough!" quietly remarked the princess. "But he -cannot leave the estate to Pierre. Pierre is illegitimate." - -"But, my dear," said Prince Vasili suddenly, clutching the little -table and becoming more animated and talking more rapidly: "what if -a letter has been written to the Emperor in which the count asks for -Pierre's legitimation? Do you understand that in consideration of -the count's services, his request would be granted?..." - -The princess smiled as people do who think they know more about -the subject under discussion than those they are talking with. - -"I can tell you more," continued Prince Vasili, seizing her hand, -"that letter was written, though it was not sent, and the Emperor knew -of it. The only question is, has it been destroyed or not? If not, -then as soon as all is over," and Prince Vasili sighed to intimate -what he meant by the words all is over, "and the count's papers are -opened, the will and letter will be delivered to the Emperor, and -the petition will certainly be granted. Pierre will get everything -as the legitimate son." - -"And our share?" asked the princess smiling ironically, as if -anything might happen, only not that. - -"But, my poor Catiche, it is as clear as daylight! He will then be -the legal heir to everything and you won't get anything. You must -know, my dear, whether the will and letter were written, and whether -they have been destroyed or not. And if they have somehow been -overlooked, you ought to know where they are, and must find them, -because..." - -"What next?" the princess interrupted, smiling sardonically and -not changing the expression of her eyes. "I am a woman, and you -think we are all stupid; but I know this: an illegitimate son cannot -inherit... un batard!"~{ A bastard. }~ she added, as if supposing that this -translation of the word would effectively prove to Prince Vasili the -invalidity of his contention. - -"Well, really, Catiche! Can't you understand! You are so -intelligent, how is it you don't see that if the count has written a -letter to the Emperor begging him to recognize Pierre as legitimate, -it follows that Pierre will not be Pierre but will become Count -Bezukhov, and will then inherit everything under the will? And if -the will and letter are not destroyed, then you will have nothing -but the consolation of having been dutiful et tout ce qui s'ensuit!~{ And all that follows therefrom. }~ -That's certain." - -"I know the will was made, but I also know that it is invalid; and -you, mon cousin, seem to consider me a perfect fool," said the -princess with the expression women assume when they suppose they are -saying something witty and stinging. - -"My dear Princess Catherine Semenovna," began Prince Vasili -impatiently, "I came here not to wrangle with you, but to talk about -your interests as with a kinswoman, a good, kind, true relation. And I -tell you for the tenth time that if the letter to the Emperor and -the will in Pierre's favor are among the count's papers, then, my dear -girl, you and your sisters are not heiresses! If you don't believe me, -then believe an expert. I have just been talking to Dmitri Onufrich" -(the family solicitor) "and he says the same." - -At this a sudden change evidently took place in the princess' ideas; -her thin lips grew white, though her eyes did not change, and her -voice when she began to speak passed through such transitions as she -herself evidently did not expect. - -"That would be a fine thing!" said she. "I never wanted anything and -I don't now." - -She pushed the little dog off her lap and smoothed her dress. - -"And this is gratitude- this is recognition for those who have -sacrificed everything for his sake!" she cried. "It's splendid! -Fine! I don't want anything, Prince." - -"Yes, but you are not the only one. There are your sisters..." -replied Prince Vasili. - -But the princess did not listen to him. - -"Yes, I knew it long ago but had forgotten. I knew that I could -expect nothing but meanness, deceit, envy, intrigue, and -ingratitude- the blackest ingratitude- in this house..." - -"Do you or do you not know where that will is?" insisted Prince -Vasili, his cheeks twitching more than ever. - -"Yes, I was a fool! I still believed in people, loved them, and -sacrificed myself. But only the base, the vile succeed! I know who has -been intriguing!" - -The princees wished to rise, but the prince held her by the hand. -She had the air of one who has suddenly lost faith in the whole -human race. She gave her companion an angry glance. - -"There is still time, my dear. You must remember, Catiche, that it -was all done casually in a moment of anger, of illness, and was -afterwards forgotten. Our duty, my dear, is to rectify his mistake, to -ease his last moments by not letting him commit this injustice, and -not to let him die feeling that he is rendering unhappy those who..." - -"Who sacrificed everything for him," chimed in the princess, who -would again have risen had not the prince still held her fast, "though -he never could appreciate it. No, mon cousin," she added with a -sigh, "I shall always remember that in this world one must expect no -reward, that in this world there is neither honor nor justice. In this -world one has to be cunning and cruel." - -"Now come, come! Be reasonable. I know your excellent heart." - -"No, I have a wicked heart." - -"I know your heart," repeated the prince. "I value your friendship -and wish you to have as good an opinion of me. Don't upset yourself, -and let us talk sensibly while there is still time, be it a day or -be it but an hour.... Tell me all you know about the will, and above -all where it is. You must know. We will take it at once and show it to -the count. He has, no doubt, forgotten it and will wish to destroy it. -You understand that my sole desire is conscientiously to carry out his -wishes; that is my only reason for being here. I came simply to help -him and you." - -"Now I see it all! I know who has been intriguing- I know!" cried -the princess. - -"That's not the point, my dear." - -"It's that protege of yours, that sweet Princess Drubetskaya, that -Anna Mikhaylovna whom I would not take for a housemaid... the -infamous, vile woman!" - -"Do not let us lose any time..." - -"Ah, don't talk to me! Last winter she wheedled herself in here -and told the count such vile, disgraceful things about us, -especially about Sophie- I can't repeat them- that it made the count -quite ill and he would not see us for a whole fortnight. I know it was -then he wrote this vile, infamous paper, but I thought the thing was -invalid." - -"We've got to it at last- why did you not tell me about it sooner?" - -"It's in the inlaid portfolio that he keeps under his pillow," -said the princess, ignoring his question. "Now I know! Yes; if I -have a sin, a great sin, it is hatred of that vile woman!" almost -shrieked the princess, now quite changed. "And what does she come -worming herself in here for? But I will give her a piece of my mind. -The time will come!" - -CHAPTER XXII - -While these conversations were going on in the reception room and -the princess' room, a carriage containing Pierre (who had been sent -for) and Anna Mikhaylovna (who found it necessary to accompany him) -was driving into the court of Count Bezukhov's house. As the wheels -rolled softly over the straw beneath the windows, Anna Mikhaylovna, -having turned with words of comfort to her companion, realized that he -was asleep in his corner and woke him up. Rousing himself, Pierre -followed Anna Mikhaylovna out of the carriage, and only then began -to think of the interview with his dying father which awaited him. -He noticed that they had not come to the front entrance but to the -back door. While he was getting down from the carriage steps two -men, who looked like tradespeople, ran hurriedly from the entrance and -hid in the shadow of the wall. Pausing for a moment, Pierre noticed -several other men of the same kind hiding in the shadow of the house -on both sides. But neither Anna Mikhaylovna nor the footman nor the -coachman, who could not help seeing these people, took any notice of -them. "It seems to be all right," Pierre concluded, and followed -Anna Mikhaylovna. She hurriedly ascended the narrow dimly lit stone -staircase, calling to Pierre, who was lagging behind, to follow. -Though he did not see why it was necessary for him to go to the -count at all, still less why he had to go by the back stairs, yet -judging by Anna Mikhaylovna's air of assurance and haste, Pierre -concluded that it was all absolutely necessary. Halfway up the -stairs they were almost knocked over by some men who, carrying -pails, came running downstairs, their boots clattering. These men -pressed close to the wall to let Pierre and Anna Mikhaylovna pass -and did not evince the least surprise at seeing them there. - -"Is this the way to the princesses' apartments?" asked Anna -Mikhaylovna of one of them. - -"Yes," replied a footman in a bold loud voice, as if anything were -now permissible; "the door to the left, ma'am." - -"Perhaps the count did not ask for me," said Pierre when he -reached the landing. "I'd better go to my own room." - -Anna Mikhaylovna paused and waited for him to come up. - -"Ah, my friend!" she said, touching his arm as she had done her -son's when speaking to him that afternoon, "believe me I suffer no -less than you do, but be a man!" - -"But really, hadn't I better go away?" he asked, looking kindly at -her over his spectacles. - -"Ah, my dear friend! Forget the wrongs that may have been done -you. Think that he is your father... perhaps in the agony of death." -She sighed. "I have loved you like a son from the first. Trust -yourself to me, Pierre. I shall not forget your interests." - -Pierre did not understand a word, but the conviction that all this -had to be grew stronger, and he meekly followed Anna Mikhaylovna who -was already opening a door. - -This door led into a back anteroom. An old man, a servant of the -princesses, sat in a corner knitting a stocking. Pierre had never been -in this part of the house and did not even know of the existence of -these rooms. Anna Mikhaylovna, addressing a maid who was hurrying past -with a decanter on a tray as "my dear" and "my sweet," asked about the -princess' health and then led Pierre along a stone passage. The -first door on the left led into the princesses' apartments. The maid -with the decanter in her haste had not closed the door (everything -in the house was done in haste at that time), and Pierre and Anna -Mikhaylovna in passing instinctively glanced into the room, where -Prince Vasili and the eldest princess were sitting close together -talking. Seeing them pass, Prince Vasili drew back with obvious -impatience, while the princess jumped up and with a gesture of -desperation slammed the door with all her might. - -This action was so unlike her usual composure and the fear -depicted on Prince Vasili's face so out of keeping with his dignity -that Pierre stopped and glanced inquiringly over his spectacles at his -guide. Anna Mikhaylovna evinced no surprise, she only smiled faintly -and sighed, as if to say that this was no more than she had expected. - -"Be a man, my friend. I will look after your interests," said she in -reply to his look, and went still faster along the passage. - -Pierre could not make out what it was all about, and still less what -"watching over his interests" meant, but he decided that all these -things had to be. From the passage they went into a large, dimly lit -room adjoining the count's reception room. It was one of those -sumptuous but cold apartments known to Pierre only from the front -approach, but even in this room there now stood an empty bath, and -water had been spilled on the carpet. They were met by a deacon with a -censer and by a servant who passed out on tiptoe without heeding them. -They went into the reception room familiar to Pierre, with two Italian -windows opening into the conservatory, with its large bust and full -length portrait of Catherine the Great. The same people were still -sitting here in almost the same positions as before, whispering to one -another. All became silent and turned to look at the pale tear-worn -Anna Mikhaylovna as she entered, and at the big stout figure of Pierre -who, hanging his head, meekly followed her. - -Anna Mikhaylovna's face expressed a consciousness that the -decisive moment had arrived. With the air of a practical Petersburg -lady she now, keeping Pierre close beside her, entered the room even -more boldly than that afternoon. She felt that as she brought with her -the person the dying man wished to see, her own admission was assured. -Casting a rapid glance at all those in the room and noticing the -count's confessor there, she glided up to him with a sort of amble, -not exactly bowing yet seeming to grow suddenly smaller, and -respectfully received the blessing first of one and then of another -priest. - -"God be thanked that you are in time," said she to one of the -priests; "all we relatives have been in such anxiety. This young man -is the count's son," she added more softly. "What a terrible moment!" - -Having said this she went up to the doctor. - -"Dear doctor," said she, "this young man is the count's son. Is -there any hope?" - -The doctor cast a rapid glance upwards and silently shrugged his -shoulders. Anna Mikhaylovna with just the same movement raised her -shoulders and eyes, almost closing the latter, sighed, and moved -away from the doctor to Pierre. To him, in a particularly respectful -and tenderly sad voice, she said: - -"Trust in His mercy!" and pointing out a small sofa for him to sit -and wait for her, she went silently toward the door that everyone -was watching and it creaked very slightly as she disappeared behind -it. - -Pierre, having made up his mind to obey his monitress implicitly, -moved toward the sofa she had indicated. As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna -had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned -to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy. He noticed -that they whispered to one another, casting significant looks at him -with a kind of awe and even servility. A deference such as he had -never before received was shown him. A strange lady, the one who had -been talking to the priests, rose and offered him her seat; an -aide-de-camp picked up and returned a glove Pierre had dropped; the -doctors became respectfully silent as he passed by, and moved to -make way for him. At first Pierre wished to take another seat so as -not to trouble the lady, and also to pick up the glove himself and -to pass round the doctors who were not even in his way; but all at -once he felt that this would not do, and that tonight he was a -person obliged to perform some sort of awful rite which everyone -expected of him, and that he was therefore bound to accept their -services. He took the glove in silence from the aide-de-camp, and -sat down in the lady's chair, placing his huge hands symmetrically -on his knees in the naive attitude of an Egyptian statue, and -decided in his own mind that all was as it should be, and that in -order not to lose his head and do foolish things he must not act on -his own ideas tonight, but must yield himself up entirely to the -will of those who were guiding him. - -Not two minutes had passed before Prince Vasili with head erect -majestically entered the room. He was wearing his long coat with three -stars on his breast. He seemed to have grown thinner since the -morning; his eyes seemed larger than usual when he glanced round and -noticed Pierre. He went up to him, took his hand (a thing he never -used to do), and drew it downwards as if wishing to ascertain -whether it was firmly fixed on. - -"Courage, courage, my friend! He has asked to see you. That is -well!" and he turned to go. - -But Pierre thought it necessary to ask: "How is..." and hesitated, -not knowing whether it would be proper to call the dying man "the -count," yet ashamed to call him "father." - -"He had another stroke about half an hour ago. Courage, my -friend..." - -Pierre's mind was in such a confused state that the word "stroke" -suggested to him a blow from something. He looked at Prince Vasili -in perplexity, and only later grasped that a stroke was an attack of -illness. Prince Vasili said something to Lorrain in passing and went -through the door on tiptoe. He could not walk well on tiptoe and his -whole body jerked at each step. The eldest princess followed him, -and the priests and deacons and some servants also went in at the -door. Through that door was heard a noise of things being moved about, -and at last Anna Mikhaylovna, still with the same expression, pale but -resolute in the discharge of duty, ran out and touching Pierre lightly -on the arm said: - -"The divine mercy is inexhaustible! Unction is about to be -administered. Come." - -Pierre went in at the door, stepping on the soft carpet, and noticed -that the strange lady, the aide-de-camp, and some of the servants, all -followed him in, as if there were now no further need for permission -to enter that room. - -CHAPTER XXIII - -Pierre well knew this large room divided by columns and an arch, its -walls hung round with Persian carpets. The part of the room behind the -columns, with a high silk-curtained mahogany bedstead on one side -and on the other an immense case containing icons, was brightly -illuminated with red light like a Russian church during evening -service. Under the gleaming icons stood a long invalid chair, and in -that chair on snowy-white smooth pillows, evidently freshly changed, -Pierre saw- covered to the waist by a bright green quilt- the -familiar, majestic figure of his father, Count Bezukhov, with that -gray mane of hair above his broad forehead which reminded one of a -lion, and the deep characteristically noble wrinkles of his -handsome, ruddy face. He lay just under the icons; his large thick -hands outside the quilt. Into the right hand, which was lying palm -downwards, a wax taper had been thrust between forefinger and thumb, -and an old servant, bending over from behind the chair, held it in -position. By the chair stood the priests, their long hair falling over -their magnificent glittering vestments, with lighted tapers in their -hands, slowly and solemnly conducting the service. A little behind -them stood the two younger princesses holding handkerchiefs to their -eyes, and just in front of them their eldest sister, Catiche, with a -vicious and determined look steadily fixed on the icons, as though -declaring to all that she could not answer for herself should she -glance round. Anna Mikhaylovna, with a meek, sorrowful, and -all-forgiving expression on her face, stood by the door near the -strange lady. Prince Vasili in front of the door, near the invalid -chair, a wax taper in his left hand, was leaning his left arm on the -carved back of a velvet chair he had turned round for the purpose, and -was crossing himself with his right hand, turning his eyes upward each -time he touched his forehead. His face wore a calm look of piety and -resignation to the will of God. "If you do not understand these -sentiments," he seemed to be saying, "so much the worse for you!" - -Behind him stood the aide-de-camp, the doctors, and the menservants; -the men and women had separated as in church. All were silently -crossing themselves, and the reading of the church service, the -subdued chanting of deep bass voices, and in the intervals sighs and -the shuffling of feet were the only sounds that could be heard. Anna -Mikhaylovna, with an air of importance that showed that she felt she -quite knew what she was about, went across the room to where Pierre -was standing and gave him a taper. He lit it and, distracted by -observing those around him, began crossing himself with the hand -that held the taper. - -Sophie, the rosy, laughter-loving, youngest princess with the -mole, watched him. She smiled, hid her face in her handkerchief, and -remained with it hidden for awhile; then looking up and seeing -Pierre she again began to laugh. She evidently felt unable to look -at him without laughing, but could not resist looking at him: so to be -out of temptation she slipped quietly behind one of the columns. In -the midst of the service the voices of the priests suddenly ceased, -they whispered to one another, and the old servant who was holding the -count's hand got up and said something to the ladies. Anna Mikhaylovna -stepped forward and, stooping over the dying man, beckoned to -Lorrain from behind her back. The French doctor held no taper; he -was leaning against one of the columns in a respectful attitude -implying that he, a foreigner, in spite of all differences of faith, -understood the full importance of the rite now being performed and -even approved of it. He now approached the sick man with the noiseless -step of one in full vigor of life, with his delicate white fingers -raised from the green quilt the hand that was free, and turning -sideways felt the pulse and reflected a moment. The sick man was given -something to drink, there was a stir around him, then the people -resumed their places and the service continued. During this interval -Pierre noticed that Prince Vasili left the chair on which he had -been leaning, and- with air which intimated that he knew what he was -about and if others did not understand him it was so much the worse -for them- did not go up to the dying man, but passed by him, joined -the eldest princess, and moved with her to the side of the room -where stood the high bedstead with its silken hangings. On leaving the -bed both Prince Vasili and the princess passed out by a back door, but -returned to their places one after the other before the service was -concluded. Pierre paid no more attention to this occurrence than to -the rest of what went on, having made up his mind once for all that -what he saw happening around him that evening was in some way -essential. - -The chanting of the service ceased, and the voice of the priest -was heard respectfully congratulating the dying man on having received -the sacrament. The dying man lay as lifeless and immovable as -before. Around him everyone began to stir: steps were audible and -whispers, among which Anna Mikhaylovna's was the most distinct. - -Pierre heard her say: - -"Certainly he must be moved onto the bed; here it will be -impossible..." - -The sick man was so surrounded by doctors, princesses, and -servants that Pierre could no longer see the reddish-yellow face -with its gray mane- which, though he saw other faces as well, he had -not lost sight of for a single moment during the whole service. He -judged by the cautious movements of those who crowded round the -invalid chair that they had lifted the dying man and were moving him. - -"Catch hold of my arm or you'll drop him!" he heard one of the -servants say in a frightened whisper. "Catch hold from underneath. -Here!" exclaimed different voices; and the heavy breathing of the -bearers and the shuffling of their feet grew more hurried, as if the -weight they were carrying were too much for them. - -As the bearers, among whom was Anna Mikhaylovna, passed the young -man he caught a momentary glimpse between their heads and backs of the -dying man's high, stout, uncovered chest and powerful shoulders, -raised by those who were holding him under the armpits, and of his -gray, curly, leonine head. This head, with its remarkably broad brow -and cheekbones, its handsome, sensual mouth, and its cold, majestic -expression, was not disfigured by the approach of death. It was the -same as Pierre remembered it three months before, when the count had -sent him to Petersburg. But now this head was swaying helplessly -with the uneven movements of the bearers, and the cold listless gaze -fixed itself upon nothing. - -After a few minutes' bustle beside the high bedstead, those who -had carried the sick man dispersed. Anna Mikhaylovna touched -Pierre's hand and said, "Come." Pierre went with her to the bed on -which the sick man had been laid in a stately pose in keeping with the -ceremony just completed. He lay with his head propped high on the -pillows. His hands were symmetrically placed on the green silk -quilt, the palms downward. When Pierre came up the count was gazing -straight at him, but with a look the significance of which could not -be understood by mortal man. Either this look meant nothing but that -as long as one has eyes they must look somewhere, or it meant too -much. Pierre hesitated, not knowing what to do, and glanced -inquiringly at his guide. Anna Mikhaylovna made a hurried sign with -her eyes, glancing at the sick man's hand and moving her lips as if to -send it a kiss. Pierre, carefully stretching his neck so as not to -touch the quilt, followed her suggestion and pressed his lips to the -large boned, fleshy hand. Neither the hand nor a single muscle of -the count's face stirred. Once more Pierre looked questioningly at -Anna Mikhaylovna to see what he was to do next. Anna Mikhaylovna -with her eyes indicated a chair that stood beside the bed. Pierre -obediently sat down, his eyes asking if he were doing right. Anna -Mikhaylovna nodded approvingly. Again Pierre fell into the naively -symmetrical pose of an Egyptian statue, evidently distressed that -his stout and clumsy body took up so much room and doing his utmost to -look as small as possible. He looked at the count, who still gazed -at the spot where Pierre's face had been before he sat down. Anna -Mikhaylovna indicated by her attitude her consciousness of the -pathetic importance of these last moments of meeting between the -father and son. This lasted about two minutes, which to Pierre -seemed an hour. Suddenly the broad muscles and lines of the count's -face began to twitch. The twitching increased, the handsome mouth -was drawn to one side (only now did Pierre realize how near death -his father was), and from that distorted mouth issued an indistinct, -hoarse sound. Anna Mikhaylovna looked attentively at the sick man's -eyes, trying to guess what he wanted; she pointed first to Pierre, -then to some drink, then named Prince Vasili in an inquiring -whisper, then pointed to the quilt. The eyes and face of the sick -man showed impatience. He made an effort to look at the servant who -stood constantly at the head of the bed. - -"Wants to turn on the other side," whispered the servant, and got up -to turn the count's heavy body toward the wall. - -Pierre rose to help him. - -While the count was being turned over, one of his arms fell back -helplessly and he made a fruitless effort to pull it forward. -Whether he noticed the look of terror with which Pierre regarded -that lifeless arm, or whether some other thought flitted across his -dying brain, at any rate he glanced at the refractory arm, at Pierre's -terror-stricken face, and again at the arm, and on his face a -feeble, piteous smile appeared, quite out of keeping with his -features, that seemed to deride his own helplessness. At sight of this -smile Pierre felt an unexpected quivering in his breast and a tickling -in his nose, and tears dimmed his eyes. The sick man was turned on -to his side with his face to the wall. He sighed. - -"He is dozing," said Anna Mikhaylovna, observing that one of the -princesses was coming to take her turn at watching. "Let us go." - -Pierre went out. - -CHAPTER XXIV - -There was now no one in the reception room except Prince Vasili -and the eldest princess, who were sitting under the portrait of -Catherine the Great and talking eagerly. As soon as they saw Pierre -and his companion they became silent, and Pierre thought he saw the -princess hide something as she whispered: - -"I can't bear the sight of that woman." - -"Catiche has had tea served in the small drawing room," said -Prince Vasili to Anna Mikhaylovna. "Go and take something, my poor -Anna Mikhaylovna, or you will not hold out." - -To Pierre he said nothing, merely giving his arm a sympathetic -squeeze below the shoulder. Pierre went with Anna Mikhaylovna into the -small drawing room. - -"There is nothing so refreshing after a sleepless night as a cup -of this delicious Russian tea," Lorrain was saying with an air of -restrained animation as he stood sipping tea from a delicate Chinese -handleless cup before a table on which tea and a cold supper were laid -in the small circular room. Around the table all who were at Count -Bezukhov's house that night had gathered to fortify themselves. Pierre -well remembered this small circular drawing room with its mirrors -and little tables. During balls given at the house Pierre, who did not -know how to dance, had liked sitting in this room to watch the -ladies who, as they passed through in their ball dresses with diamonds -and pearls on their bare shoulders, looked at themselves in the -brilliantly lighted mirrors which repeated their reflections several -times. Now this same room was dimly lighted by two candles. On one -small table tea things and supper dishes stood in disorder, and in the -middle of the night a motley throng of people sat there, not -merrymaking, but somberly whispering, and betraying by every word -and movement that they none of them forgot what was happening and what -was about to happen in the bedroom. Pierre did not eat anything though -he would very much have liked to. He looked inquiringly at his -monitress and saw that she was again going on tiptoe to the -reception room where they had left Prince Vasili and the eldest -princess. Pierre concluded that this also was essential, and after a -short interval followed her. Anna Mikhaylovna was standing beside -the princess, and they were both speaking in excited whispers. - -"Permit me, Princess, to know what is necessary and what is not -necessary," said the younger of the two speakers, evidently in the -same state of excitement as when she had slammed the door of her room. - -"But, my dear princess," answered Anna Mikhaylovna blandly but -impressively, blocking the way to the bedroom and preventing the other -from passing, "won't this be too much for poor Uncle at a moment -when he needs repose? Worldly conversation at a moment when his soul -is already prepared..." - -Prince Vasili was seated in an easy chair in his familiar -attitude, with one leg crossed high above the other. His cheeks, which -were so flabby that they looked heavier below, were twitching -violently; but he wore the air of a man little concerned in what the -two ladies were saying. - -"Come, my dear Anna Mikhaylovna, let Catiche do as she pleases. -You know how fond the count is of her." - -"I don't even know what is in this paper," said the younger of the -two ladies, addressing Prince Vasili and pointing to an inlaid -portfolio she held in her hand. "All I know is that his real will is -in his writing table, and this is a paper he has forgotten...." - -She tried to pass Anna Mikhaylovna, but the latter sprang so as to -bar her path. - -"I know, my dear, kind princess," said Anna Mikhaylovna, seizing the -portfolio so firmly that it was plain she would not let go easily. -"Dear princess, I beg and implore you, have some pity on him! Je -vous en conjure..." - -The princess did not reply. Their efforts in the struggle for the -portfolio were the only sounds audible, but it was evident that if the -princess did speak, her words would not be flattering to Anna -Mikhaylovna. Though the latter held on tenaciously, her voice lost -none of its honeyed firmness and softness. - -"Pierre, my dear, come here. I think he will not be out of place -in a family consultation; is it not so, Prince?" - -"Why don't you speak, cousin?" suddenly shrieked the princess so -loud that those in the drawing room heard her and were startled. -"Why do you remain silent when heaven knows who permits herself to -interfere, making a scene on the very threshold of a dying man's room? -Intriguer!" she hissed viciously, and tugged with all her might at the -portfolio. - -But Anna Mikhaylovna went forward a step or two to keep her hold -on the portfolio, and changed her grip. - -Prince Vasili rose. "Oh!" said he with reproach and surprise, -"this is absurd! Come, let go I tell you." - -The princess let go. - -"And you too!" - -But Anna Mikhaylovna did not obey him. - -"Let go, I tell you! I will take the responsibility. I myself will -go and ask him, I!... does that satisfy you?" - -"But, Prince," said Anna Mikhaylovna, "after such a solemn -sacrament, allow him a moment's peace! Here, Pierre, tell them your -opinion," said she, turning to the young man who, having come quite -close, was gazing with astonishment at the angry face of the -princess which had lost all dignity, and at the twitching cheeks of -Prince Vasili. - -"Remember that you will answer for the consequences," said Prince -Vasili severely. "You don't know what you are doing." - -"Vile woman!" shouted the princess, darting unexpectedly at Anna -Mikhaylovna and snatching the portfolio from her. - -Prince Vasili bent his head and spread out his hands. - -At this moment that terrible door, which Pierre had watched so -long and which had always opened so quietly, burst noisily open and -banged against the wall, and the second of the three sisters rushed -out wringing her hands. - -"What are you doing!" she cried vehemently. "He is dying and you -leave me alone with him!" - -Her sister dropped the portfolio. Anna Mikhaylovna, stooping, -quickly caught up the object of contention and ran into the bedroom. -The eldest princess and Prince Vasili, recovering themselves, followed -her. A few minutes later the eldest sister came out with a pale hard -face, again biting her underlip. At sight of Pierre her expression -showed an irrepressible hatred. - -"Yes, now you may be glad!" said she; "this is what you have been -waiting for." And bursting into tears she hid her face in her -handkerchief and rushed from the room. - -Prince Vasili came next. He staggered to the sofa on which Pierre -was sitting and dropped onto it, covering his face with his hand. -Pierre noticed that he was pale and that his jaw quivered and shook as -if in an ague. - -"Ah, my friend!" said he, taking Pierre by the elbow; and there -was in his voice a sincerity and weakness Pierre had never observed in -it before. "How often we sin, how much we deceive, and all for what? I -am near sixty, dear friend... I too... All will end in death, all! -Death is awful..." and he burst into tears. - -Anna Mikhaylovna came out last. She approached Pierre with slow, -quiet steps. - -"Pierre!" she said. - -Pierre gave her an inquiring look. She kissed the young man on his -forehead, wetting him with her tears. Then after a pause she said: - -"He is no more...." - -Pierre looked at her over his spectacles. - -"Come, I will go with you. Try to weep, nothing gives such relief as -tears." - -She led him into the dark drawing room and Pierre was glad no one -could see his face. Anna Mikhaylovna left him, and when she returned -he was fast asleep with his head on his arm. - -In the morning Anna Mikhaylovna said to Pierre: - -"Yes, my dear, this is a great loss for us all, not to speak of you. -But God will support you: you are young, and are now, I hope, in -command of an immense fortune. The will has not yet been opened. I -know you well enough to be sure that this will not turn your head, but -it imposes duties on you, and you must be a man." - -Pierre was silent. - -"Perhaps later on I may tell you, my dear boy, that if I had not -been there, God only knows what would have happened! You know, Uncle -promised me only the day before yesterday not to forget Boris. But -he had no time. I hope, my dear friend, you will carry out your -father's wish?" - -Pierre understood nothing of all this and coloring shyly looked in -silence at Princess Anna Mikhaylovna. After her talk with Pierre, Anna -Mikhaylovna returned to the Rostovs' and went to bed. On waking in the -morning she told the Rostovs and all her acquaintances the details -of Count Bezukhov's death. She said the count had died as she would -herself wish to die, that his end was not only touching but -edifying. As to the last meeting between father and son, it was so -touching that she could not think of it without tears, and did not -know which had behaved better during those awful moments- the father -who so remembered everything and everybody at last and last and had -spoken such pathetic words to the son, or Pierre, whom it had been -pitiful to see, so stricken was he with grief, though he tried hard to -hide it in order not to sadden his dying father. "It is painful, but -it does one good. It uplifts the soul to see such men as the old count -and his worthy son," said she. Of the behavior of the eldest -princess and Prince Vasili she spoke disapprovingly, but in whispers -and as a great secret. - -CHAPTER XXV - -At Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Andreevich Bolkonski's estate, the -arrival of young Prince Andrew and his wife was daily expected, but -this expectation did not upset the regular routine of life in the -old prince's household. General in Chief Prince Nicholas Andreevich -(nicknamed in society, "the King of Prussia") ever since the Emperor -Paul had exiled him to his country estate had lived there continuously -with his daughter, Princess Mary, and her companion, Mademoiselle -Bourienne. Though in the new reign he was free to return to the -capitals, he still continued to live in the country, remarking that -anyone who wanted to see him could come the hundred miles from -Moscow to Bald Hills, while he himself needed no one and nothing. He -used to say that there are only two sources of human vice- idleness -and superstition, and only two virtues- activity and intelligence. -He himself undertook his daughter's education, and to develop these -two cardinal virtues in her gave her lessons in algebra and geometry -till she was twenty, and arranged her life so that her whole time -was occupied. He was himself always occupied: writing his memoirs, -solving problems in higher mathematics, turning snuffboxes on a lathe, -working in the garden, or superintending the building that was -always going on at his estate. As regularity is a prime condition -facilitating activity, regularity in his household was carried to -the highest point of exactitude. He always came to table under -precisely the same conditions, and not only at the same hour but at -the same minute. With those about him, from his daughter to his serfs, -the prince was sharp and invariably exacting, so that without being -a hardhearted man he inspired such fear and respect as few hardhearted -men would have aroused. Although he was in retirement and had now no -influence in political affairs, every high official appointed to the -province in which the prince's estate lay considered it his duty to -visit him and waited in the lofty antechamber ante chamber just as the -architect, gardener, or Princess Mary did, till the prince appeared -punctually to the appointed hour. Everyone sitting in this antechamber -experienced the same feeling of respect and even fear when the -enormously high study door opened and showed the figure of a rather -small old man, with powdered wig, small withered hands, and bushy gray -eyebrows which, when he frowned, sometimes hid the gleam of his -shrewd, youthfully glittering eyes. - -On the morning of the day that the young couple were to arrive, -Princess Mary entered the antechamber as usual at the time appointed -for the morning greeting, crossing herself with trepidation and -repeating a silent prayer. Every morning she came in like that, and -every morning prayed that the daily interview might pass off well. - -An old powdered manservant who was sitting in the antechamber rose -quietly and said in a whisper: "Please walk in." - -Through the door came the regular hum of a lathe. The princess -timidly opened the door which moved noiselessly and easily. She paused -at the entrance. The prince was working at the lathe and after -glancing round continued his work. - -The enormous study was full of things evidently in constant use. The -large table covered with books and plans, the tall glass-fronted -bookcases with keys in the locks, the high desk for writing while -standing up, on which lay an open exercise book, and the lathe with -tools laid ready to hand and shavings scattered around- all -indicated continuous, varied, and orderly activity. The motion of -the small foot shod in a Tartar boot embroidered with silver, and -the firm pressure of the lean sinewy hand, showed that the prince -still possessed the tenacious endurance and vigor of hardy old age. -After a few more turns of the lathe he removed his foot from the -pedal, wiped his chisel, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to -the lathe, and, approaching the table, summoned his daughter. He never -gave his children a blessing, so he simply held out his bristly -cheek (as yet unshaven) and, regarding her tenderly and attentively, -said severely: - -"Quite well? All right then, sit down." He took the exercise book -containing lessons in geometry written by himself and drew up a -chair with his foot. - -"For tomorrow!" said he, quickly finding the page and making a -scratch from one paragraph to another with his hard nail. - -The princess bent over the exercise book on the table. - -"Wait a bit, here's a letter for you," said the old man suddenly, -taking a letter addressed in a woman's hand from a bag hanging above -the table, onto which he threw it. - -At the sight of the letter red patches showed themselves on the -princess' face. She took it quickly and bent her head over it. - -"From Heloise?" asked the prince with a cold smile that showed his -still sound, yellowish teeth. - -"Yes, it's from Julie," replied the princess with a timid glance and -a timid smile. - -"I'll let two more letters pass, but the third I'll read," said -the prince sternly; "I'm afraid you write much nonsense. I'll read the -third!" - -"Read this if you like, Father," said the princess, blushing still -more and holding out the letter. - -"The third, I said the third!" cried the prince abruptly, pushing -the letter away, and leaning his elbows on the table he drew toward -him the exercise book containing geometrical figures. - -"Well, madam," he began, stooping over the book close to his -daughter and placing an arm on the back of the chair on which she sat, -so that she felt herself surrounded on all sides by the acrid scent of -old age and tobacco, which she had known so long. "Now, madam, these -triangles are equal; please note that the angle ABC..." - -The princess looked in a scared way at her father's eyes -glittering close to her; the red patches on her face came and went, -and it was plain that she understood nothing and was so frightened -that her fear would prevent her understanding any of her father's -further explanations, however clear they might be. Whether it was -the teacher's fault or the pupil's, this same thing happened every -day: the princess' eyes grew dim, she could not see and could not hear -anything, but was only conscious of her stern father's withered face -close to her, of his breath and the smell of him, and could think only -of how to get away quickly to her own room to make out the problem -in peace. The old man was beside himself: moved the chair on which -he was sitting noisily backward and forward, made efforts to control -himself and not become vehement, but almost always did become -vehement, scolded, and sometimes flung the exercise book away. - -The princess gave a wrong answer. - -"Well now, isn't she a fool!" shouted the prince, pushing the book -aside and turning sharply away; but rising immediately, he paced up -and down, lightly touched his daughter's hair and sat down again. - -He drew up his chair. and continued to explain. - -"This won't do, Princess; it won't do," said he, when Princess Mary, -having taken and closed the exercise book with the next day's -lesson, was about to leave: "Mathematics are most important, madam! -I don't want to have you like our silly ladies. Get used to it and -you'll like it," and he patted her cheek. "It will drive all the -nonsense out of your head." - -She turned to go, but he stopped her with a gesture and took an -uncut book from the high desk. - -"Here is some sort of Key to the Mysteries that your Heloise has -sent you. Religious! I don't interfere with anyone's belief... I -have looked at it. Take it. Well, now go. Go." - -He patted her on the shoulder and himself closed the door after her. - -Princess Mary went back to her room with the sad, scared -expression that rarely left her and which made her plain, sickly -face yet plainer. She sat down at her writing table, on which stood -miniature portraits and which was littered with books and papers. -The princess was as untidy as her father was tidy. She put down the -geometry book and eagerly broke the seal of her letter. It was from -her most intimate friend from childhood; that same Julie Karagina -who had been at the Rostovs' name-day party. - -Julie wrote in French: - -Dear and precious Friend, How terrible and frightful a thing is -separation! Though I tell myself that half my life and half my -happiness are wrapped up in you, and that in spite of the distance -separating us our hearts are united by indissoluble bonds, my heart -rebels against fate and in spite of the pleasures and distractions -around me I cannot overcome a certain secret sorrow that has been in -my heart ever since we parted. Why are we not together as we were last -summer, in your big study, on the blue sofa, the confidential sofa? -Why cannot I now, as three months ago, draw fresh moral strength -from your look, so gentle, calm, and penetrating, a look I loved so -well and seem to see before me as I write? - -Having read thus far, Princess Mary sighed and glanced into the -mirror which stood on her right. It reflected a weak, ungraceful -figure and thin face. Her eyes, always sad, now looked with particular -hopelessness at her reflection in the glass. "She flatters me," -thought the princess, turning away and continuing to read. But Julie -did not flatter her friend, the princess' eyes- large, deep and -luminous (it seemed as if at times there radiated from them shafts -of warm light)- were so beautiful that very often in spite of the -plainness of her face they gave her an attraction more powerful than -that of beauty. But the princess never saw the beautiful expression of -her own eyes- the look they had when she was not thinking of -herself. As with everyone, her face assumed a forced unnatural -expression as soon as she looked in a glass. She went on reading: - -All Moscow talks of nothing but war. One of my two brothers is -already abroad, the other is with the Guards, who are starting on -their march to the frontier. Our dear Emperor has left Petersburg -and it is thought intends to expose his precious person to the chances -of war. God grant that the Corsican monster who is destroying the -peace of Europe may be overthrown by the angel whom it has pleased the -Almighty, in His goodness, to give us as sovereign! To say nothing -of my brothers, this war has deprived me of one of the associations -nearest my heart. I mean young Nicholas Rostov, who with his -enthusiasm could not bear to remain inactive and has left the -university to join the army. I will confess to you, dear Mary, that in -spite of his extreme youth his departure for the army was a great -grief to me. This young man, of whom I spoke to you last summer, is so -noble-minded and full of that real youthfulness which one seldom finds -nowadays among our old men of twenty and, particularly, he is so frank -and has so much heart. He is so pure and poetic that my relations with -him, transient as they were, have been one of the sweetest comforts to -my poor heart, which has already suffered so much. Someday I will tell -you about our parting and all that was said then. That is still too -fresh. Ah, dear friend, you are happy not to know these poignant -joys and sorrows. You are fortunate, for the latter are generally -the stronger! I know very well that Count Nicholas is too young ever -to be more to me than a friend, but this sweet friendship, this poetic -and pure intimacy, were what my heart needed. But enough of this! -The chief news, about which all Moscow gossips, is the death of old -Count Bezukhov, and his inheritance. Fancy! The three princesses -have received very little, Prince Vasili nothing, and it is Monsieur -Pierre who has inherited all the property and has besides been -recognized as legitimate; so that he is now Count Bezukhov and -possessor of the finest fortune in Russia. It is rumored that Prince -Vasili played a very despicable part in this affair and that he -returned to Petersburg quite crestfallen. - -I confess I understand very little about all these matters of -wills and inheritance; but I do know that since this young man, whom -we all used to know as plain Monsieur Pierre, has become Count -Bezukhov and the owner of one of the largest fortunes in Russia, I -am much amused to watch the change in the tone and manners of the -mammas burdened by marriageable daughters, and of the young ladies -themselves, toward him, though, between you and me, he always seemed -to me a poor sort of fellow. As for the past two years people have -amused themselves by finding husbands for me (most of whom I don't -even know), the matchmaking chronicles of Moscow now speak of me as -the future Countess Bezukhova. But you will understand that I have -no desire for the post. A propos of marriages: do you know that a -while ago that universal auntie Anna Mikhaylovna told me, under the -seal of strict secrecy, of a plan of marriage for you. It is neither -more nor less than with Prince Vasili's son Anatole, whom they wish to -reform by marrying him to someone rich and distinguee, and it is on -you that his relations' choice has fallen. I don't know what you -will think of it, but I consider it my duty to let you know of it. -He is said to be very handsome and a terrible scapegrace. That is -all I have been able to find out about him. - -But enough of gossip. I am at the end of my second sheet of paper, -and Mamma has sent for me to go and dine at the Apraksins'. Read the -mystical book I am sending you; it has an enormous success here. -Though there are things in it difficult for the feeble human mind to -grasp, it is an admirable book which calms and elevates the soul. -Adieu! Give my respects to monsieur your father and my compliments -to Mademoiselle Bourienne. I embrace you as I love you. - -JULIE - -P.S. Let me have news of your brother and his charming little wife. - -The princess pondered awhile with a thoughtful smile and her -luminous eyes lit up so that her face was entirely transformed. Then -she suddenly rose and with her heavy tread went up to the table. She -took a sheet of paper and her hand moved rapidly over it. This is -the reply she wrote, also in French: - -Dear and precious Friend, Your letter of the 13th has given me great -delight. So you still love me, my romantic Julie? Separation, of which -you say so much that is bad, does not seem to have had its usual -effect on you. You complain of our separation. What then should I say, -if I dared complain, I who am deprived of all who are dear to me? -Ah, if we had not religion to console us life would be very sad. Why -do you suppose that I should look severely on your affection for -that young man? On such matters I am only severe with myself. I -understand such feelings in others, and if never having felt them I -cannot approve of them, neither do I condemn them. Only it seems to me -that Christian love, love of one's neighbor, love of one's enemy, is -worthier, sweeter, and better than the feelings which the beautiful -eyes of a young man can inspire in a romantic and loving young girl -like yourself. - -The news of Count Bezukhov's death reached us before your letter and -my father was much affected by it. He says the count was the last -representative but one of the great century, and that it is his own -turn now, but that he will do all he can to let his turn come as -late as possible. God preserve us from that terrible misfortune! - -I cannot agree with you about Pierre, whom I knew as a child. He -always seemed to me to have an excellent heart, and that is the -quality I value most in people. As to his inheritance and the part -played by Prince Vasili, it is very sad for both. Ah, my dear -friend, our divine Saviour's words, that it is easier for a camel to -go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the -Kingdom of God, are terribly true. I pity Prince Vasili but am still -more sorry for Pierre. So young, and burdened with such riches- to -what temptations he will be exposed! If I were asked what I desire -most on earth, it would be to be poorer than the poorest beggar. A -thousand thanks, dear friend, for the volume you have sent me and -which has such success in Moscow. Yet since you tell me that among -some good things it contains others which our weak human understanding -cannot grasp, it seems to me rather useless to spend time in reading -what is unintelligible and can therefore bear no fruit. I never -could understand the fondness some people have for confusing their -minds by dwelling on mystical books that merely awaken their doubts -and excite their imagination, giving them a bent for exaggeration -quite contrary to Christian simplicity. Let us rather read the -Epistles and Gospels. Let us not seek to penetrate what mysteries they -contain; for how can we, miserable sinners that we are, know the -terrible and holy secrets of Providence while we remain in this -flesh which forms an impenetrable veil between us and the Eternal? Let -us rather confine ourselves to studying those sublime rules which -our divine Saviour has left for our guidance here below. Let us try to -conform to them and follow them, and let us be persuaded that the less -we let our feeble human minds roam, the better we shall please God, -who rejects all knowledge that does not come from Him; and the less we -seek to fathom what He has been pleased to conceal from us, the sooner -will He vouchsafe its revelation to us through His divine Spirit. - -My father has not spoken to me of a suitor, but has only told me -that he has received a letter and is expecting a visit from Prince -Vasili. In regard to this project of marriage for me, I will tell you, -dear sweet friend, that I look on marriage as a divine institution -to which we must conform. However painful it may be to me, should -the Almighty lay the duties of wife and wife and mother upon me I -shall try to perform them as faithfully as I can, without -disquieting myself by examining my feelings toward him whom He may -give me for husband. - -I have had a letter from my brother, who announces his speedy -arrival at Bald Hills with his wife. This pleasure will be but a brief -one, however, for he will leave, us again to take part in this unhappy -war into which we have been drawn, God knows how or why. Not only -where you are- at the heart of affairs and of the world- is the talk -all of war, even here amid fieldwork and the calm of nature- which -townsfolk consider characteristic of the country- rumors of war are -heard and painfully felt. My father talks of nothing but marches and -countermarches, things of which I understand nothing; and the day -before yesterday during my daily walk through the village I -witnessed a heartrending scene.... It was a convoy of conscripts -enrolled from our people and starting to join the army. You should -have seen the state of the mothers, wives, and children of the men who -were going and should have heard the sobs. It seems as though -mankind has forgotten the laws of its divine Saviour, Who preached -love and forgiveness of injuries- and that men attribute the -greatest merit to skill in killing one another. - -Adieu, dear and kind friend; may our divine Saviour and His most -Holy Mother keep you in their holy and all-powerful care! - -MARY - -"Ah, you are sending off a letter, Princess? I have already -dispatched mine. I have written to my poor mother," said the smiling -Mademoiselle Bourienne rapidly, in her pleasant mellow tones and -with guttural r's. She brought into Princess Mary's strenuous, -mournful, and gloomy world a quite different atmosphere, careless, -lighthearted, and self-satisfied. - -"Princess, I must warn you," she added, lowering her voice and -evidently listening to herself with pleasure, and speaking with -exaggerated grasseyement, "the prince has been scolding Michael -Ivanovich. He is in a very bad humor, very morose. Be prepared." - -"Ah, dear friend," replied Princess Mary, "I have asked you never to -warn me of the humor my father is in. I do not allow myself to judge -him and would not have others do so." - -The princess glanced at her watch and, seeing that she was five -minutes late in starting her practice on the clavichord, went into the -sitting room with a look of alarm. Between twelve and two o'clock, -as the day was mapped out, the prince rested and the princess played -the clavichord. - -CHAPTER XXVI - -The gray-haired valet was sitting drowsily listening to the -snoring of the prince, who was in his large study. From the far side -of the house through the closed doors came the sound of difficult -passages- twenty times repeated- of a sonata by Dussek. - -Just then a closed carriage and another with a hood drove up to -the porch. Prince Andrew got out of the carriage, helped his little -wife to alight, and let her pass into the house before him. Old -Tikhon, wearing a wig, put his head out of the door of the -antechamber, reported in a whisper that the prince was sleeping, and -hastily closed the door. Tikhon knew that neither the son's arrival -nor any other unusual event must be allowed to disturb the appointed -order of the day. Prince Andrew apparently knew this as well as -Tikhon; he looked at his watch as if to ascertain whether his father's -habits had changed since he was at home last, and, having assured -himself that they had not, he turned to his wife. - -"He will get up in twenty minutes. Let us go across to Mary's room," -he said. - -The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her eyes -and her short, downy, smiling lip lifted when she began to speak -just as merrily and prettily as ever. - -"Why, this is a palace!" she said to her husband, looking around -with the expression with which people compliment their host at a ball. -"Let's come, quick, quick!" And with a glance round, she smiled at -Tikhon, at her husband, and at the footman who accompanied them. - -"Is that Mary practicing? Let's go quietly and take her by -surprise." - -Prince Andrew followed her with a courteous but sad expression. - -"You've grown older, Tikhon," he said in passing to the old man, who -kissed his hand. - -Before they reached the room from which the sounds of the clavichord -came, the pretty, fair haired Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle Bourienne, -rushed out apparently beside herself with delight. - -"Ah! what joy for the princess!" exclaimed she: "At last! I must let -her know." - -"No, no, please not... You are Mademoiselle Bourienne," said the -little princess, kissing her. "I know you already through my -sister-in-law's friendship for you. She was not expecting us?" - -They went up to the door of the sitting room from which came the -sound of the oft-repeated passage of the sonata. Prince Andrew stopped -and made a grimace, as if expecting something unpleasant. - -The little princess entered the room. The passage broke off in the -middle, a cry was heard, then Princess Mary's heavy tread and the -sound of kissing. When Prince Andrew went in the two princesses, who -had only met once before for a short time at his wedding, were in each -other's arms warmly pressing their lips to whatever place they -happened to touch. Mademoiselle Bourienne stood near them pressing her -hand to her heart, with a beatific smile and obviously equally ready -to cry or to laugh. Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders and -frowned, as lovers of music do when they hear a false note. The two -women let go of one another, and then, as if afraid of being too late, -seized each other's hands, kissing them and pulling them away, and -again began kissing each other on the face, and then to Prince -Andrew's surprise both began to cry and kissed again. Mademoiselle -Bourienne also began to cry. Prince Andrew evidently felt ill at ease, -but to the two women it seemed quite natural that they should cry, and -apparently it never entered their heads that it could have been -otherwise at this meeting. - -"Ah! my dear!... Ah! Mary!" they suddenly exclaimed, and then -laughed. "I dreamed last night..."- "You were not expecting us?..."- -"Ah! Mary, you have got thinner?..." "And you have grown stouter!..." - -"I knew the princess at once," put in Mademoiselle Bourienne. - -"And I had no idea!..." exclaimed Princess Mary. "Ah, Andrew, I -did not see you." - -Prince Andrew and his sister, hand in hand, kissed one another, -and he told her she was still the same crybaby as ever. Princess -Mary had turned toward her brother, and through her tears the -loving, warm, gentle look of her large luminous eyes, very beautiful -at that moment, rested on Prince Andrew's face. - -The little princess talked incessantly, her short, downy upper lip -continually and rapidly touching her rosy nether lip when necessary -and drawing up again next moment when her face broke into a smile of -glittering teeth and sparkling eyes. She told of an accident they -had had on the Spasski Hill which might have been serious for her in -her condition, and immediately after that informed them that she had -left all her clothes in Petersburg and that heaven knew what she would -have to dress in here; and that Andrew had quite changed, and that -Kitty Odyntsova had married an old man, and that there was a suitor -for Mary, a real one, but that they would talk of that later. Princess -Mary was still looking silently at her brother and her beautiful -eyes were full of love and sadness. It was plain that she was -following a train of thought independent of her sister-in-law's words. -In the midst of a description of the last Petersburg fete she -addressed her brother: - -"So you are really going to the war, Andrew?" she said sighing. - -Lise sighed too. - -"Yes, and even tomorrow," replied her brother. - -"He is leaving me here, God knows why, when he might have had -promotion..." - -Princess Mary did not listen to the end, but continuing her train of -thought turned to her sister-in-law with a tender glance at her -figure. - -"Is it certain?" she said. - -The face of the little princess changed. She sighed and said: -"Yes, quite certain. Ah! it is very dreadful..." - -Her lip descended. She brought her face close to her sister-in-law's -and unexpectedly again began to cry. - -"She needs rest," said Prince Andrew with a frown. "Don't you, Lise? -Take her to your room and I'll go to Father. How is he? Just the -same?" - -"Yes, just the same. Though I don't know what your opinion will be," -answered the princess joyfully. - -"And are the hours the same? And the walks in the avenues? And the -lathe?" asked Prince Andrew with a scarcely perceptible smile which -showed that, in spite of all his love and respect for his father, he -was aware of his weaknesses. - -"The hours are the same, and the lathe, and also the mathematics and -my geometry lessons," said Princess Mary gleefully, as if her -lessons in geometry were among the greatest delights of her life. - -When the twenty minutes had elapsed and the time had come for the -old prince to get up, Tikhon came to call the young prince to his -father. The old man made a departure from his usual routine in honor -of his son's arrival: he gave orders to admit him to his apartments -while he dressed for dinner. The old prince always dressed in -old-fashioned style, wearing an antique coat and powdered hair; and -when Prince Andrew entered his father's dressing room (not with the -contemptuous look and manner he wore in drawing rooms, but with the -animated face with which he talked to Pierre), the old man was sitting -on a large leather-covered chair, wrapped in a powdering mantle, -entrusting his head to Tikhon. - -"Ah! here's the warrior! Wants to vanquish Buonaparte?" said the old -man, shaking his powdered head as much as the tail, which Tikhon was -holding fast to plait, would allow. - -"You at least must tackle him properly, or else if he goes on like -this he'll soon have us, too, for his subjects! How are you?" And he -held out his cheek. - -The old man was in a good temper after his nap before dinner. (He -used to say that a nap "after dinner was silver- before dinner, -golden.") He cast happy, sidelong glances at his son from under his -thick, bushy eyebrows. Prince Andrew went up and kissed his father -on the spot indicated to him. He made no reply on his father's -favorite topic- making fun of the military men of the day, and more -particularly of Bonaparte. - -"Yes, Father, I have come come to you and brought my wife who is -pregnant," said Prince Andrew, following every movement of his -father's face with an eager and respectful look. "How is your health?" - -"Only fools and rakes fall ill, my boy. You know me: I am busy -from morning till night and abstemious, so of course I am well." - -"Thank God," said his son smiling. - -"God has nothing to do with it! Well, go on," he continued, -returning to his hobby; "tell me how the Germans have taught you to -fight Bonaparte by this new science you call 'strategy.'" - -Prince Andrew smiled. - -"Give me time to collect my wits, Father," said he, with a smile -that showed that his father's foibles did not prevent his son from -loving and honoring him. "Why, I have not yet had time to settle -down!" - -"Nonsense, nonsense!" cried the old man, shaking his pigtail to -see whether it was firmly plaited, and grasping his by the hand. -"The house for your wife is ready. Princess Mary will take her there -and show her over, and they'll talk nineteen to the dozen. That's -their woman's way! I am glad to have her. Sit down and talk. About -Mikhelson's army I understand- Tolstoy's too... a simultaneous -expedition.... But what's the southern army to do? Prussia is -neutral... I know that. What about Austria?" said he, rising from -his chair and pacing up and down the room followed by Tikhon, who -ran after him, handing him different articles of clothing. "What of -Sweden? How will they cross Pomerania?" - -Prince Andrew, seeing that his father insisted, began- at first -reluctantly, but gradually with more and more animation, and from -habit changing unconsciously from Russian to French as he went on- -to explain the plan of operation for the coming campaign. He explained -how an army, ninety thousand strong, was to threaten Prussia so as -to bring her out of her neutrality and draw her into the war; how part -of that army was to join some Swedish forces at Stralsund; how two -hundred and twenty thousand Austrians, with a hundred thousand -Russians, were to operate in Italy and on the Rhine; how fifty - -thousand Russians and as many English were to land at Naples, and -how a total force of five hundred thousand men was to attack the -French from different sides. The old prince did not evince the least -interest during this explanation, but as if he were not listening to -it continued to dress while walking about, and three times -unexpectedly interrupted. Once he stopped it by shouting: "The white -one, the white one!" - -This meant that Tikhon was not handing him the waistcoat he -wanted. Another time he interrupted, saying: - -"And will she soon be confined?" and shaking his head -reproachfully said: "That's bad! Go on, go on." - -The third interruption came when Prince Andrew was finishing his -description. The old man began to sing, in the cracked voice of old -age: "Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre. Dieu sait quand reviendra."~{ "Marlborough is going to the wars; God knows when he'll return." }~ - -His son only smiled. - -"I don't say it's a plan I approve of," said the son; "I am only -telling you what it is. Napoleon has also formed his plan by now, -not worse than this one." - -"Well, you've told me nothing new," and the old man repeated, -meditatively and rapidly: - -"Dieu sait quand reviendra. Go to the dining room." - -CHAPTER XXVII - -At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the -dining room where his daughter-in-law, Princess Mary, and Mademoiselle -Bourienne were already awaiting him together with his architect, who -by a strange caprice of his employer's was admitted to table though -the position of that insignificant individual was such as could -certainly not have caused him to expect that honor. The prince, who -generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely -admitted even important government officials to his table, had -unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner -to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory -that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his -daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or -I." At dinner the prince usually spoke to the taciturn Michael -Ivanovich more often than to anyone else. - -In the dining room, which like all the rooms in the house was -exceedingly lofty, the members of the household and the footmen- one -behind each chair- stood waiting for the prince to enter. The head -butler, napkin on arm, was scanning the setting of the table, making -signs to the footmen, and anxiously glancing from the clock to the -door by which the prince was to enter. Prince Andrew was looking at -a large gilt frame, new to him, containing the genealogical tree of -the Princes Bolkonski, opposite which hung another such frame with a -badly painted portrait (evidently by the hand of the artist -belonging to the estate) of a ruling prince, in a crown- an alleged -descendant of Rurik and ancestor of the Bolkonskis. Prince Andrew, -looking again at that genealogical tree, shook his head, laughing as a -man laughs who looks at a portrait so characteristic of the original -as to be amusing. - -"How thoroughly like him that is!" he said to Princess Mary, who had -come up to him. - -Princess Mary looked at her brother in surprise. She did not -understand what he was laughing at. Everything her father did inspired -her with reverence and was beyond question. - -"Everyone has his Achilles' heel," continued Prince Andrew. -"Fancy, with his powerful mind, indulging in such nonsense!" - -Princess Mary could not understand the boldness of her brother's -criticism and was about to reply, when the expected footsteps were -heard coming from the study. The prince walked in quickly and jauntily -as was his wont, as if intentionally contrasting the briskness of -his manners with the strict formality of his house. At that moment the -great clock struck two and another with a shrill tone joined in from -the drawing room. The prince stood still; his lively glittering eyes -from under their thick, bushy eyebrows sternly scanned all present and -rested on the little princess. She felt, as courtiers do when the Tsar -enters, the sensation of fear and respect which the old man inspired -in all around him. He stroked her hair and then patted her awkwardly -on the back of her neck. - -"I'm glad, glad, to see you," he said, looking attentively into -her eyes, and then quickly went to his place and sat down. "Sit -down, sit down! Sit down, Michael Ianovich!" - -He indicated a place beside him to his daughter-in-law. A footman -moved the chair for her. - -"Ho, ho!" said the old man, casting his eyes on her rounded -figure. "You've been in a hurry. That's bad!" - -He laughed in his usual dry, cold, unpleasant way, with his lips -only and not with his eyes. - -"You must walk, walk as much as possible, as much as possible," he -said. - -The little princess did not, or did not wish to, hear his words. She -was silent and seemed confused. The prince asked her about her father, -and she began to smile and talk. He asked about mutual -acquaintances, and she became still more animated and chattered away -giving him greetings from various people and retailing the town -gossip. - -"Countess Apraksina, poor thing, has lost her husband and she has -cried her eyes out," she said, growing more and more lively. - -As she became animated the prince looked at her more and more -sternly, and suddenly, as if he had studied her sufficiently and had -formed a definite idea of her, he turned away and addressed Michael -Ivanovich. - -"Well, Michael Ivanovich, our Bonaparte will be having a bad time of -it. Prince Andrew" (he always spoke thus of his son) "has been telling -me what forces are being collected against him! While you and I -never thought much of him." - -Michael Ivanovich did not at all know when "you and I" had said such -things about Bonaparte, but understanding that he was wanted as a -peg on which to hang the prince's favorite topic, he looked -inquiringly at the young prince, wondering what would follow. - -"He is a great tactician!" said the prince to his son, pointing to -the architect. - -And the conversation again turned on the war, on Bonaparte, and -the generals and statesmen of the day. The old prince seemed convinced -not only that all the men of the day were mere babies who did not know -the A B C of war or of politics, and that Bonaparte was an -insignificant little Frenchy, successful only because there were no -longer any Potemkins or Suvorovs left to oppose him; but he was also -convinced that there were no political difficulties in Europe and no -real war, but only a sort of puppet show at which the men of the day -were playing, pretending to do something real. Prince Andrew gaily -bore with his father's ridicule of the new men, and drew him on and -listened to him with evident pleasure. - -"The past always seems good," said he, "but did not Suvorov -himself fall into a trap Moreau set him, and from which he did not -know how to escape?" - -"Who told you that? Who?" cried the prince. "Suvorov!" And he jerked -away his plate, which Tikhon briskly caught. "Suvorov!... Consider, -Prince Andrew. Two... Frederick and Suvorov; Moreau!... Moreau would -have been a prisoner if Suvorov had had a free hand; but he had the -Hofs-kriegs-wurst-schnapps-Rath on his hands. It would have puzzled -the devil himself! When you get there you'll find out what those -Hofs-kriegs-wurst-Raths are! Suvorov couldn't manage them so what -chance has Michael Kutuzov? No, my dear boy," he continued, "you and -your generals won't get on against Buonaparte; you'll have to call -in the French, so that birds of a feather may fight together. The -German, Pahlen, has been sent to New York in America, to fetch the -Frenchman, Moreau," he said, alluding to the invitation made that year -to Moreau to enter the Russian service.... "Wonderful!... Were the -Potemkins, Suvorovs, and Orlovs Germans? No, lad, either you fellows -have all lost your wits, or I have outlived mine. May God help you, -but we'll see what will happen. Buonaparte has become a great -commander among them! Hm!..." - -"I don't at all say that all the plans are good," said Prince -Andrew, "I am only surprised at your opinion of Bonaparte. You may -laugh as much as you like, but all the same Bonaparte is a great -generall" - -"Michael Ivanovich!" cried the old prince to the architect who, busy -with his roast meat, hoped he had been forgotten: "Didn't I tell you -Buonaparte was a great tactician? Here, he says same thing." - -"To be sure, your excellency." replied the architect. - -The prince again laughed his frigid laugh. - -"Buonaparte was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He has got -splendid soldiers. Besides he began by attacking Germans. And only -idlers have failed to beat the Germans. Since the world began -everybody has beaten the Germans. They beat no one- except one -another. He made his reputation fighting them." - -And the prince began explaining all the blunders which, according to -him, Bonaparte had made in his campaigns and even in politics. His son -made no rejoinder, but it was evident that whatever arguments were -presented he was as little able as his father to change his opinion. -He listened, refraining from a reply, and involuntarily wondered how -this old man, living alone in the country for so many years, could -know and discuss so minutely and acutely all the recent European -military and political events. - -"You think I'm an old man and don't understand the present state -of affairs?" concluded his father. "But it troubles me. I don't -sleep at night. Come now, where has this great commander of yours -shown his skill?" he concluded. - -"That would take too long to tell," answered the son. - -"Well, then go to your Buonaparte! Mademoiselle Bourienne, here's -another admirer of that powder-monkey emperor of yours," he -exclaimed in excellent French. - -"You know, Prince, I am not a Bonapartist!" - -"Dieu sait quand reviendra"... hummed the prince out of tune and, -with a laugh still more so, he quitted the table. - -The little princess during the whole discussion and the rest of -the dinner sat silent, glancing with a frightened look now at her -father-in-law and now at Princess Mary. When they left the table she -took her sister-in-law's arm and drew her into another room. - -"What a clever man your father is," said she; "perhaps that is why I -am afraid of him." - -"Oh, he is so kind!" answered Princess Mary. - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -Prince Andrew was to leave next evening. The old prince, not -altering his routine, retired as usual after dinner. The little -princess was in her sister-in-law's room. Prince Andrew in a traveling -coat without epaulettes had been packing with his valet in the rooms -assigned to him. After inspecting the carriage himself and seeing -the trunks put in, he ordered the horses to be harnessed. Only those -things he always kept with him remained in his room; a small box, a -large canteen fitted with silver plate, two Turkish pistols and a -saber- a present from his father who had brought it from the siege -of Ochakov. All these traveling effects of Prince Andrew's were in -very good order: new, clean, and in cloth covers carefully tied with -tapes. - -When starting on a journey or changing their mode of life, men -capable of reflection are generally in a serious frame of mind. At -such moments one reviews the past and plans for the future. Prince -Andrew's face looked very thoughtful and tender. With his hands behind -him he paced briskly from corner to corner of the room, looking -straight before him and thoughtfully shaking his head. Did he fear -going to the war, or was he sad at leaving his wife?- perhaps both, -but evidently he did not wish to be seen in that mood, for hearing -footsteps in the passage he hurriedly unclasped his hands, stopped -at a table as if tying the cover of the small box, and assumed his -usual tranquil and impenetrable expression. It was the heavy tread -of Princess Mary that he heard. - -"I hear you have given orders to harness," she cried, panting (she -had apparently been running), "and I did so wish to have another -talk with you alone! God knows how long we may again be parted. You -are not angry with me for coming? You have changed so, Andrusha," -she added, as if to explain such a question. - -She smiled as she uttered his pet name, "Andrusha." It was obviously -strange to her to think that this stern handsome man should be -Andrusha- the slender mischievous boy who had been her playfellow in -childhood. - -"And where is Lise?" he asked, answering her question only by a -smile. - -"She was so tired that she has fallen asleep on the sofa in my room. -Oh, Andrew! What a treasure of a wife you have," said she, sitting -down on the sofa, facing her brother. "She is quite a child: such a -dear, merry child. I have grown so fond of her." - -Prince Andrew was silent, but the princess noticed the ironical -and contemptuous look that showed itself on his face. - -"One must be indulgent to little weaknesses; who is free from -them, Andrew? Don't forget that she has grown up and been educated -in society, and so her position now is not a rosy one. We should enter -into everyone's situation. Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner.~{ To understand all is to forgive all. }~ -Think it must be for her, poor thing, after what she has been used to, -to be parted from her husband and be left alone the country, in her -condition! It's very hard." - -Prince Andrew smiled as he looked at his sister, as we smile at -those we think we thoroughly understand. - -"You live in the country and don't think the life terrible," he -replied. - -"I... that's different. Why speak of me? I don't want any other -life, and can't, for I know no other. But think, Andrew: for a young -society woman to be buried in the country during the best years of her -life, all alone- for Papa is always busy, and I... well, you know what -poor resources I have for entertaining a woman used to the best -society. There is only Mademoiselle Bourienne...." - -"I don't like your Mademoiselle Bourienne at all," said Prince -Andrew. - -"No? She is very nice and kind and, above all, she's much to be -pitied. She has no one, no one. To tell the truth, I don't need her, -and she's even in my way. You know I always was a savage, and now am -even more so. I like being alone.... Father likes her very much. She -and Michael Ivanovich are the two people to whom he is always gentle -and kind, because he has been a benefactor to them both. As Sterne -says: 'We don't love people so much for the good they have done us, as -for the good we have done them.' Father took her when she was homeless -after losing her own father. She is very good-natured, and my father -likes her way of reading. She reads to him in the evenings and reads -splendidly." - -"To be quite frank, Mary, I expect Father's character sometimes -makes things trying for you, doesn't it?" Prince Andrew asked -suddenly. - -Princess Mary was first surprised and then aghast at this question. - -"For me? For me?... Trying for me!..." said she. - -"He always was rather harsh; and now I should think he's getting -very trying," said Prince Andrew, apparently speaking lightly of their -father in order to puzzle or test his sister. - -"You are good in every way, Andrew, but you have a kind of -intellectual pride," said the princess, following the train of her own -thoughts rather than the trend of the conversation- "and that's a -great sin. How can one judge Father? But even if one might, what -feeling except veneration could such a man as my father evoke? And I -am so contented and happy with him. I only wish you were all as -happy as I am." - -Her brother shook his head incredulously. - -"The only thing that is hard for me... I will tell you the truth, -Andrew... is Father's way of treating religious subjects. I don't -understand how a man of his immense intellect can fail to see what -is as clear as day, and can go so far astray. That is the only thing -that makes me unhappy. But even in this I can see lately a shade of -improvement. His satire has been less bitter of late, and there was -a monk he received and had a long talk with." - -"Ah! my dear, I am afraid you and your monk are wasting your -powder," said Prince Andrew banteringly yet tenderly. - -"Ah! mon ami, I only pray, and hope that God will hear me. -Andrew..." she said timidly after a moment's silence, "I have a -great favor to ask of you." - -"What is it, dear?" - -"No- promise that you will not refuse! It will give you no trouble -and is nothing unworthy of you, but it will comfort me. Promise, -Andrusha!..." said she, putting her hand in her reticule but not yet -taking out what she was holding inside it, as if what she held were -the subject of her request and must not be shown before the request -was granted. - -She looked timidly at her brother. - -"Even if it were a great deal of trouble..." answered Prince Andrew, -as if guessing what it was about. - -"Think what you please! I know you are just like Father. Think as -you please, but do this for my sake! Please do! Father's father, our -grandfather, wore it in all his wars." (She still did not take out -what she was holding in her reticule.) "So you promise?" - -"Of course. What is it?" - -"Andrew, I bless you with this icon and you must promise me you will -never take it off. Do you promise?" - -"If it does not weigh a hundredweight and won't break my neck... -To please you..." said Prince Andrew. But immediately, noticing the -pained expression his joke had brought to his sister's face, he -repented and added: "I am glad; really, dear, I am very glad." - -"Against your will He will save and have mercy on you and bring -you to Himself, for in Him alone is truth and peace," said she in a -voice trembling with emotion, solemnly holding up in both hands before -her brother a small, oval, antique, dark-faced icon of the Saviour -in a gold setting, on a finely wrought silver chain. - -She crossed herself, kissed the icon, and handed it to Andrew. - -"Please, Andrew, for my sake!..." - -Rays of gentle light shone from her large, timid eyes. Those eyes -lit up the whole of her thin, sickly face and made it beautiful. Her -brother would have taken the icon, but she stopped him. Andrew -understood, crossed himself and kissed the icon. There was a look of -tenderness, for he was touched, but also a gleam of irony on his face. - -"Thank you, my dear." She kissed him on the forehead and sat down -again on the sofa. They were silent for a while. - -"As I was saying to you, Andrew, be kind and generous as you -always used to be. Don't judge Lise harshly," she began. "She is so -sweet, so good-natured, and her position now is a very hard one." - -"I do not think I have complained of my wife to you, Masha, or -blamed her. Why do you say all this to me?" - -Red patches appeared on Princess Mary's face and she was silent as -if she felt guilty. - -"I have said nothing to you, but you have already been talked to. -And I am sorry for that," he went on. - -The patches grew deeper on her forehead, neck, and cheeks. She tried -to say something but could not. Her brother had guessed right: the -little princess had been crying after dinner and had spoken of her -forebodings about her confinement, and how she dreaded it, and had -complained of her fate, her father-in-law, and her husband. After -crying she had fallen asleep. Prince Andrew felt sorry for his sister. - -"Know this, Masha: I can't reproach, have not reproached, and -never shall reproach my wife with anything, and I cannot reproach -myself with anything in regard to her; and that always will be so in -whatever circumstances I may be placed. But if you want to know the -truth... if you want to know whether I am happy? No! Is she happy? No! -But why this is so I don't know..." - -As he said this he rose, went to his sister, and, stooping, kissed -her forehead. His fine eyes lit up with a thoughtful, kindly, and -unaccustomed brightness, but he was looking not at his sister but over -her head toward the darkness of the open doorway. - -"Let us go to her, I must say good-by. Or- go and wake and I'll come -in a moment. Petrushka!" he called to his valet: "Come here, take -these away. Put this on the seat and this to the right." - -Princess Mary rose and moved to the door, then stopped and said: -"Andrew, if you had faith you would have turned to God and asked Him -to give you the love you do not feel, and your prayer would have -been answered." - -"Well, may be!" said Prince Andrew. "Go, Masha; I'll come -immediately." - -On the way to his sister's room, in the passage which connected -one wing with the other, Prince Andrew met Mademoiselle Bourienne -smiling sweetly. It was the third time that day that, with an ecstatic -and artless smile, she had met him in secluded passages. - -"Oh! I thought you were in your room," she said, for some reason -blushing and dropping her eyes. - -Prince Andrew looked sternly at her and an expression of anger -suddenly came over his face. He said nothing to her but looked at -her forehead and hair, without looking at her eyes, with such contempt -that the Frenchwoman blushed and went away without a word. When he -reached his sister's room his wife was already awake and her merry -voice, hurrying one word after another, came through the open door. -She was speaking as usual in French, and as if after long -self-restraint she wished to make up for lost time. - -"No, but imagine the old Countess Zubova, with false curls and her -mouth full of false teeth, as if she were trying to cheat old -age.... Ha, ha, ha! Mary!" - -This very sentence about Countess Zubova and this same laugh -Prince Andrew had already heard from his wife in the presence of -others some five times. He entered the room softly. The little -princess, plump and rosy, was sitting in an easy chair with her work -in her hands, talking incessantly, repeating Petersburg -reminiscences and even phrases. Prince Andrew came up, stroked her -hair, and asked if she felt rested after their journey. She answered -him and continued her chatter. - -The coach with six horses was waiting at the porch. It was an autumn -night, so dark that the coachman could not see the carriage pole. -Servants with lanterns were bustling about in the porch. The immense -house was brilliant with lights shining through its lofty windows. The -domestic serfs were crowding in the hall, waiting to bid good-by to -the young prince. The members of the household were all gathered in -the reception hall: Michael Ivanovich, Mademoiselle Bourienne, -Princess Mary, and the little princess. Prince Andrew had been -called to his father's study as the latter wished to say good-by to -him alone. All were waiting for them to come out. - -When Prince Andrew entered the study the old man in his old-age -spectacles and white dressing gown, in which he received no one but -his son, sat at the table writing. He glanced round. - -"Going?" And he went on writing. - -"I've come to say good-by." - -"Kiss me here," and he touched his cheek: "Thanks, thanks!" - -"What do you thank me for?" - -"For not dilly-dallying and not hanging to a woman's apron -strings. The Service before everything. Thanks, thanks!" And he went -on writing, so that his quill spluttered and squeaked. "If you have -anything to say, say it. These two things can be done together," he -added. - -"About my wife... I am ashamed as it is to leave her on your -hands..." - -"Why talk nonsense? Say what you want." - -"When her confinement is due, send to Moscow for an accoucheur.... -Let him be here...." - -The old prince stopped writing and, as if not understanding, fixed -his stern eyes on his son. - -"I know that no one can help if nature does not do her work," said -Prince Andrew, evidently confused. "I know that out of a million cases -only one goes wrong, but it is her fancy and mine. They have been -telling her things. She has had a dream and is frightened." - -"Hm... Hm..." muttered the old prince to himself, finishing what -he was writing. "I'll do it." - -He signed with a flourish and suddenly turning to his son began to -laugh. - -"It's a bad business, eh?" - -"What is bad, Father?" - -"The wife!" said the old prince, briefly and significantly. - -"I don't understand!" said Prince Andrew. - -"No, it can't be helped, lad," said the prince. "They're all like -that; one can't unmarry. Don't be afraid; I won't tell anyone, but you -know it yourself." - -He seized his son by the hand with small bony fingers, shook it, -looked straight into his son's face with keen eyes which seemed to see -through him, and again laughed his frigid laugh. - -The son sighed, thus admitting that his father had understood him. -The old man continued to fold and seal his letter, snatching up and -throwing down the wax, the seal, and the paper, with his accustomed -rapidity. - -"What's to be done? She's pretty! I will do everything. Make your -mind easy," said he in abrupt sentences while sealing his letter. - -Andrew did not speak; he was both pleased and displeased that his -father understood him. The old man got up and gave the letter to his -son. - -"Listen!" said he; "don't worry about your wife: what can be done -shall be. Now listen! Give this letter to Michael Ilarionovich.~{ Kutuzov. }~ I -have written that he should make use of you in proper places and not -keep you long as an adjutant: a bad position! Tell him I remember -and like him. Write and tell me how he receives you. If he is all -right- serve him. Nicholas Bolkonski's son need not serve under anyone -if he is in disfavor. Now come here." - -He spoke so rapidly that he did not finish half his words, but his -son was accustomed to understand him. He led him to the desk, raised -the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled -with his bold, tall, close handwriting. - -"I shall probably die before you. So remember, these are my memoirs; -hand them to the Emperor after my death. Now here is a Lombard bond -and a letter; it is a premium for the man who writes a history of -Suvorov's wars. Send it to the Academy. Here are some jottings for you -to read when I am gone. You will find them useful." - -Andrew did not tell his father that he would no doubt live a long -time yet. He felt that he must not say it. - -"I will do it all, Father," he said. - -"Well, now, good-by!" He gave his son his hand to kiss, and embraced -him. "Remember this, Prince Andrew, if they kill you it will hurt -me, your old father..." he paused unexpectedly, and then in a -querulous voice suddenly shrieked: "but if I hear that you have not -behaved like a son of Nicholas Bolkonski, I shall be ashamed!" - -"You need not have said that to me, Father," said the son with a -smile. - -The old man was silent. - -"I also wanted to ask you," continued Prince Andrew, "if I'm -killed and if I have a son, do not let him be taken away from you- -as I said yesterday... let him grow up with you.... Please." - -"Not let the wife have him?" said the old man, and laughed. - -They stood silent, facing one another. The old man's sharp eyes were -fixed straight on his son's. Something twitched in the lower part of -the old prince's face. - -"We've said good-by. Go!" he suddenly shouted in a loud, angry -voice, opening his door. - -"What is it? What?" asked both princesses when they saw for a moment -at the door Prince Andrew and the figure of the old man in a white -dressing gown, spectacled and wigless, shouting in an angry voice. - -Prince Andrew sighed and made no reply. - -"Well!" he said, turning to his wife. - -And this "Well!" sounded coldly ironic, as if he were saying,: -"Now go through your performance." - -"Andrew, already!" said the little princess, turning pale and -looking with dismay at her husband. - -He embraced her. She screamed and fell unconscious on his shoulder. - -He cautiously released the shoulder she leaned on, looked into her -face, and carefully placed her in an easy chair. - -"Adieu, Mary," said he gently to his sister, taking her by the -hand and kissing her, and then he left the room with rapid steps. - -The little princess lay in the armchair, Mademoiselle Bourienne -chafing her temples. Princess Mary, supporting her sister-in-law, -still looked with her beautiful eyes full of tears at the door through -which Prince Andrew had gone and made the sign of the cross in his -direction. From the study, like pistol shots, came the frequent -sound of the old man angrily blowing his nose. Hardly had Prince -Andrew gone when the study door opened quickly and the stern figure of -the old man in the white dressing gown looked out. - -"Gone? That's all right!" said he; and looking angrily at the -unconscious little princess, he shook his head reprovingly and slammed -the door. - -BOOK TWO: 1805 - -CHAPTER I - -In October, 1805, a Russian army was occupying the villages and -towns of the Archduchy of Austria, and yet other regiments freshly -arriving from Russia were settling near the fortress of Braunau and -burdening the inhabitants on whom they were quartered. Braunau was the -headquarters of the commander-in-chief, Kutuzov. - -On October 11, 1805, one of the infantry regiments that had just -reached Braunau had halted half a mile from the town, waiting to be -inspected by the commander in chief. Despite the un-Russian appearance -of the locality and surroundings- fruit gardens, stone fences, tiled -roofs, and hills in the distance- and despite the fact that the -inhabitants (who gazed with curiosity at the soldiers) were not -Russians, the regiment had just the appearance of any Russian regiment -preparing for an inspection anywhere in the heart of Russia. - -On the evening of the last day's march an order had been received -that the commander in chief would inspect the regiment on the march. -Though the words of the order were not clear to the regimental -commander, and the question arose whether the troops were to be in -marching order or not, it was decided at a consultation between the -battalion commanders to present the regiment in parade order, on the -principle that it is always better to "bow too low than not bow low -enough." So the soldiers, after a twenty-mile march, were kept mending -and cleaning all night long without closing their eyes, while the -adjutants and company commanders calculated and reckoned, and by -morning the regiment- instead of the straggling, disorderly crowd it -had been on its last march the day before- presented a well-ordered -array of two thousand men each of whom knew his place and his duty, -had every button and every strap in place, and shone with cleanliness. -And not only externally was all in order, but had it pleased the -commander in chief to look under the uniforms he would have found on -every man a clean shirt, and in every knapsack the appointed number of -articles, "awl, soap, and all," as the soldiers say. There was only -one circumstance concerning which no one could be at ease. It was -the state of the soldiers' boots. More than half the men's boots -were in holes. But this defect was not due to any fault of the -regimental commander, for in spite of repeated demands boots had not -been issued by the Austrian commissariat, and the regiment had marched -some seven hundred miles. - -The commander of the regiment was an elderly, choleric, stout, and -thick-set general with grizzled eyebrows and whiskers, and wider -from chest to back than across the shoulders. He had on a brand-new -uniform showing the creases where it had been folded and thick gold -epaulettes which seemed to stand rather than lie down on his massive -shoulders. He had the air of a man happily performing one of the -most solemn duties of his life. He walked about in front of the line -and at every step pulled himself up, slightly arching his back. It was -plain that the commander admired his regiment, rejoiced in it, and -that his whole mind was engrossed by it, yet his strut seemed to -indicate that, besides military matters, social interests and the fair -sex occupied no small part of his thoughts. - -"Well, Michael Mitrich, sir?" he said, addressing one of the -battalion commanders who smilingly pressed forward (it was plain -that they both felt happy). "We had our hands full last night. -However, I think the regiment is not a bad one, eh?" - -The battalion commander perceived the jovial irony and laughed. - -"It would not be turned off the field even on the Tsaritsin Meadow." - -"What?" asked the commander. - -At that moment, on the road from the town on which signalers had -been posted, two men appeared on horse back. They were an -aide-decamp followed by a Cossack. - -The aide-de-camp was sent to confirm the order which had not been -clearly worded the day before, namely, that the commander in chief -wished to see the regiment just in the state in which it had been on -the march: in their greatcoats, and packs, and without any preparation -whatever. - -A member of the Hofkriegsrath from Vienna had come to Kutuzov the -day before with proposals and demands for him to join up with the army -of the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack, and Kutuzov, not considering -this junction advisable, meant, among other arguments in support of -his view, to show the Austrian general the wretched state in which the -troops arrived from Russia. With this object he intended to meet the -regiment; so the worse the condition it was in, the better pleased the -commander in chief would be. Though the aide-de-camp did not know -these circumstances, he nevertheless delivered the definite order that -the men should be in their greatcoats and in marching order, and -that the commander in chief would otherwise be dissatisfied. On -hearing this the regimental commander hung his head, silently shrugged -his shoulders, and spread out his arms with a choleric gesture. - -"A fine mess we've made of it!" he remarked. - -"There now! Didn't I tell you, Michael Mitrich, that if it was -said 'on the march' it meant in greatcoats?" said he reproachfully -to the battalion commander. "Oh, my God!" he added, stepping -resolutely forward. "Company commanders!" he shouted in a voice -accustomed to command. "Sergeants major!... How soon will he be here?" -he asked the aide-de-camp with a respectful politeness evidently -relating to the personage he was referring to. - -"In an hour's time, I should say." - -"Shall we have time to change clothes?" - -"I don't know, General...." - -The regimental commander, going up to the line himself, ordered -the soldiers to change into their greatcoats. The company commanders -ran off to their companies, the sergeants major began bustling (the -greatcoats were not in very good condition), and instantly the squares -that had up to then been in regular order and silent began to sway and -stretch and hum with voices. On all sides soldiers were running to and -fro, throwing up their knapsacks with a jerk of their shoulders and -pulling the straps over their heads, unstrapping their overcoats and -drawing the sleeves on with upraised arms. - -In half an hour all was again in order, only the squares had -become gray instead of black. The regimental commander walked with his -jerky steps to the front of the regiment and examined it from a -distance. - -"Whatever is this? This!" he shouted and stood still. "Commander -of the third company!" - -"Commander of the third company wanted by the general!... -commander to the general... third company to the commander." The words -passed along the lines and an adjutant ran to look for the missing -officer. - -When the eager but misrepeated words had reached their destination -in a cry of: "The general to the third company," the missing officer -appeared from behind his company and, though he was a middle-aged -man and not in the habit of running, trotted awkwardly stumbling on -his toes toward the general. The captain's face showed the -uneasiness of a schoolboy who is told to repeat a lesson he has not -learned. Spots appeared on his nose, the redness of which was -evidently due to intemperance, and his mouth twitched nervously. The -general looked the captain up and down as he came up panting, -slackening his pace as he approached. - -"You will soon be dressing your men in petticoats! What is this?" -shouted the regimental commander, thrusting forward his jaw and -pointing at a soldier in the ranks of the third company in a greatcoat -of bluish cloth, which contrasted with the others. "What have you been -after? The commander in chief is expected and you leave your place? -Eh? I'll teach you to dress the men in fancy coats for a parade.... -Eh...?" - -The commander of the company, with his eyes fixed on his superior, -pressed two fingers more and more rigidly to his cap, as if in this -pressure lay his only hope of salvation. - -"Well, why don't you speak? Whom have you got there dressed up as -a Hungarian?" said the commander with an austere gibe. - -"Your excellency..." - -"Well, your excellency, what? Your excellency! But what about your -excellency?... nobody knows." - -"Your excellency, it's the officer Dolokhov, who has been reduced to -the ranks," said the captain softly. - -"Well? Has he been degraded into a field marshal, or into a soldier? -If a soldier, he should be dressed in regulation uniform like the -others." - -"Your excellency, you gave him leave yourself, on the march." - -"Gave him leave? Leave? That's just like you young men," said the -regimental commander cooling down a little. "Leave indeed.... One says -a word to you and you... What?" he added with renewed irritation, "I -beg you to dress your men decently." - -And the commander, turning to look at the adjutant, directed his -jerky steps down the line. He was evidently pleased at his own display -of anger and walking up to the regiment wished to find a further -excuse for wrath. Having snapped at an officer for an unpolished -badge, at another because his line was not straight, he reached the -third company. - -"H-o-o-w are you standing? Where's your leg? Your leg?" shouted -the commander with a tone of suffering in his voice, while there -were still five men between him and Dolokhov with his bluish-gray -uniform. - -Dolokhov slowly straightened his bent knee, looking straight with -his clear, insolent eyes in the general's face. - -"Why a blue coat? Off with it... Sergeant major! Change his -coat... the ras..." he did not finish. - -"General, I must obey orders, but I am not bound to endure..." -Dolokhov hurriedly interrupted. - -"No talking in the ranks!... No talking, no talking!" - -"Not bound to endure insults," Dolokhov concluded in loud, ringing -tones. - -The eyes of the general and the soldier met. The general became -silent, angrily pulling down his tight scarf. - -"I request you to have the goodness to change your coat," he said as -he turned away. - -CHAPTER II - -"He's coming!" shouted the signaler at that moment. - -The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the -stirrup with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, -righted himself, drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute -countenance, opening his mouth awry, prepared to shout. The regiment -fluttered like a bird preening its plumage and became motionless. - -"Att-ention!" shouted the regimental commander in a soul-shaking -voice which expressed joy for himself, severity for the regiment, -and welcome for the approaching chief. - -Along the broad country road, edged on both sides by trees, came a -high, light blue Viennese caleche, slightly creaking on its springs -and drawn by six horses at a smart trot. Behind the caleche galloped -the suite and a convoy of Croats. Beside Kutuzov sat an Austrian -general, in a white uniform that looked strange among the Russian -black ones. The caleche stopped in front of the regiment. Kutuzov -and the Austrian general were talking in low voices and Kutuzov smiled -slightly as treading heavily he stepped down from the carriage just as -if those two thousand men breathlessly gazing at him and the -regimental commander did not exist. - -The word of command rang out, and again the regiment quivered, as -with a jingling sound it presented arms. Then amidst a dead silence -the feeble voice of the commander in chief was heard. The regiment -roared, "Health to your ex... len... len... lency!" and again all -became silent. At first Kutuzov stood still while the regiment -moved; then he and the general in white, accompanied by the suite, -walked between the ranks. - -From the way the regimental commander saluted the commander in chief -and devoured him with his eyes, drawing himself up obsequiously, and -from the way he walked through the ranks behind the generals, -bending forward and hardly able to restrain his jerky movements, and -from the way he darted forward at every word or gesture of the -commander in chief, it was evident that he performed his duty as a -subordinate with even greater zeal than his duty as a commander. -Thanks to the strictness and assiduity of its commander the -regiment, in comparison with others that had reached Braunau at the -same time, was in splendid condition. There were only 217 sick and -stragglers. Everything was in good order except the boots. - -Kutuzov walked through the ranks, sometimes stopping to say a few -friendly words to officers he had known in the Turkish war, -sometimes also to the soldiers. Looking at their boots he several -times shook his head sadly, pointing them out to the Austrian -general with an expression which seemed to say that he was not blaming -anyone, but could not help noticing what a bad state of things it was. -The regimental commander ran forward on each such occasion, fearing to -miss a single word of the commander in chief's regarding the regiment. -Behind Kutuzov, at a distance that allowed every softly spoken word to -be heard, followed some twenty men of his suite. These gentlemen -talked among themselves and sometimes laughed. Nearest of all to the -commander in chief walked a handsome adjutant. This was Prince -Bolkonski. Beside him was his comrade Nesvitski, a tall staff officer, -extremely stout, with a kindly, smiling, handsome face and moist eyes. -Nesvitski could hardly keep from laughter provoked by a swarthy hussar -officer who walked beside him. This hussar, with a grave face and -without a smile or a change in the expression of his fixed eyes, -watched the regimental commander's back and mimicked his every -movement. Each time the commander started and bent forward, the hussar -started and bent forward in exactly the same manner. Nesvitski laughed -and nudged the others to make them look at the wag. - -Kutuzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which -were starting from their sockets to watch their chief. On reaching the -third company he suddenly stopped. His suite, not having expected -this, involuntarily came closer to him. - -"Ah, Timokhin!" said he, recognizing the red-nosed captain who had -been reprimanded on account of the blue greatcoat. - -One would have thought it impossible for a man to stretch himself -more than Timokhin had done when he was reprimanded by the -regimental commander, but now that the commander in chief addressed -him he drew himself up to such an extent that it seemed he could not -have sustained it had the commander in chief continued to look at him, -and so Kutuzov, who evidently understood his case and wished him -nothing but good, quickly turned away, a scarcely perceptible smile -flitting over his scarred and puffy face. - -"Another Ismail comrade," said he. "A brave officer! Are you -satisfied with him?" he asked the regimental commander. - -And the latter- unconscious that he was being reflected in the -hussar officer as in a looking glass- started, moved forward, and -answered: "Highly satisfied, your excellency!" - -"We all have our weaknesses," said Kutuzov smiling and walking -away from him. "He used to have a predilection for Bacchus." - -The regimental commander was afraid he might be blamed for this -and did not answer. The hussar at that moment noticed the face of -the red-nosed captain and his drawn-in stomach, and mimicked his -expression and pose with such exactitude that Nesvitski could not help -laughing. Kutuzov turned round. The officer evidently had complete -control of his face, and while Kutuzov was turning managed to make a -grimace and then assume a most serious, deferential, and innocent -expression. - -The third company was the last, and Kutuzov pondered, apparently -trying to recollect something. Prince Andrew stepped forward from -among the suite and said in French: - -"You told me to remind you of the officer Dolokhov, reduced to the -ranks in this regiment." - -"Where is Dolokhov?" asked Kutuzov. - -Dolokhov, who had already changed into a soldier's gray greatcoat, -did not wait to be called. The shapely figure of the fair-haired -soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, -went up to the commander in chief, and presented arms. - -"Have you a complaint to make?" Kutuzov asked with a slight frown. - -"This is Dolokhov," said Prince Andrew. - -"Ah!" said Kutuzov. "I hope this will be a lesson to you. Do your -duty. The Emperor is gracious, and I shan't forget you if you -deserve well." - -The clear blue eyes looked at the commander in chief just as -boldly as they had looked at the regimental commander, seeming by -their expression to tear open the veil of convention that separates -a commander in chief so widely from a private. - -"One thing I ask of your excellency," Dolokhov said in his firm, -ringing, deliberate voice. "I ask an opportunity to atone for my fault -and prove my devotion to His Majesty the Emperor and to Russia!" - -Kutuzov turned away. The same smile of the eyes with which he had -turned from Captain Timokhin again flitted over his face. He turned -away with a grimace as if to say that everything Dolokhov had said -to him and everything he could say had long been known to him, that he -was weary of it and it was not at all what he wanted. He turned away -and went to the carriage. - -The regiment broke up into companies, which went to their -appointed quarters near Braunau, where they hoped to receive boots and -clothes and to rest after their hard marches. - -"You won't bear me a grudge, Prokhor Ignatych?" said the -regimental commander, overtaking the third company on its way to its - -quarters and riding up to Captain Timokhin who was walking in front. -(The regimental commander's face now that the inspection was happily -over beamed with irrepressible delight.) "It's in the Emperor's -service... it can't be helped... one is sometimes a bit hasty on -parade... I am the first to apologize, you know me!... He was very -pleased!" And he held out his hand to the captain. - -"Don't mention it, General, as if I'd be so bold!" replied the -captain, his nose growing redder as he gave a smile which showed where -two front teeth were missing that had been knocked out by the butt end -of a gun at Ismail. - -"And tell Mr. Dolokhov that I won't forget him- he may be quite -easy. And tell me, please- I've been meaning to ask- how is to ask- -how is he behaving himself, and in general..." - -"As far as the service goes he is quite punctilious, your -excellency; but his character..." said Timokhin. - -"And what about his character?" asked the regimental commander. - -"It's different on different days," answered the captain. "One day -he is sensible, well educated, and good-natured, and the next he's a -wild beast.... In Poland, if you please, he nearly killed a Jew." - -"Oh, well, well!" remarked the regimental commander. "Still, one -must have pity on a young man in misfortune. You know he has important -connections... Well, then, you just..." - -"I will, your excellency," said Timokhin, showing by his smile -that he understood his commander's wish. - -"Well, of course, of course!" - -The regimental commander sought out Dolokhov in the ranks and, -reining in his horse, said to him: - -"After the next affair... epaulettes." - -Dolokhov looked round but did not say anything, nor did the -mocking smile on his lips change. - -"Well, that's all right," continued the regimental commander. "A cup -of vodka for the men from me," he added so that the soldiers could -hear. "I thank you all! God be praised!" and he rode past that company -and overtook the next one. - -"Well, he's really a good fellow, one can serve under him," said -Timokhin to the subaltern beside him. - -"In a word, a hearty one..." said the subaltern, laughing (the -regimental commander was nicknamed King of Hearts). - -The cheerful mood of their officers after the inspection infected -the soldiers. The company marched on gaily. The soldiers' voices could -be heard on every side. - -"And they said Kutuzov was blind of one eye?" - -"And so he is! Quite blind!" - -"No, friend, he is sharper-eyed than you are. Boots and leg bands... -he noticed everything..." - -"When he looked at my feet, friend... well, thinks I..." - -"And that other one with him, the Austrian, looked as if he were -smeared with chalk- as white as flour! I suppose they polish him up as -they do the guns." - -"I say, Fedeshon!... Did he say when the battles are to begin? You -were near him. Everybody said that Buonaparte himself was at Braunau." - -"Buonaparte himself!... Just listen to the fool, what he doesn't -know! The Prussians are up in arms now. The Austrians, you see, are -putting them down. When they've been put down, the war with Buonaparte -will begin. And he says Buonaparte is in Braunau! Shows you're a fool. -You'd better listen more carefully!" - -"What devils these quartermasters are! See, the fifth company is -turning into the village already... they will have their buckwheat -cooked before we reach our quarters." - -"Give me a biscuit, you devil!" - -"And did you give me tobacco yesterday? That's just it, friend! -Ah, well, never mind, here you are." - -"They might call a halt here or we'll have to do another four -miles without eating." - -"Wasn't it fine when those Germans gave us lifts! You just sit still -and are drawn along." - -"And here, friend, the people are quite beggarly. There they all -seemed to be Poles- all under the Russian crown- but here they're -all regular Germans." - -"Singers to the front " came the captain's order. - -And from the different ranks some twenty men ran to the front. A -drummer, their leader, turned round facing the singers, and -flourishing his arm, began a long-drawn-out soldiers' song, commencing -with the words: "Morning dawned, the sun was rising," and -concluding: "On then, brothers, on to glory, led by Father -Kamenski." This song had been composed in the Turkish campaign and now -being sung in Austria, the only change being that the words "Father -Kamenski" were replaced by "Father Kutuzov." - -Having jerked out these last words as soldiers do and waved his arms -as if flinging something to the ground, the drummer- a lean, -handsome soldier of forty- looked sternly at the singers and screwed -up his eyes. Then having satisfied himself that all eyes were fixed on -him, he raised both arms as if carefully lifting some invisible but -precious object above his head and, holding it there for some seconds, -suddenly flung it down and began: - -"Oh, my bower, oh, my bower...!" - -"Oh, my bower new...!" chimed in twenty voices, and the castanet -player, in spite of the burden of his equipment, rushed out to the -front and, walking backwards before the company, jerked his -shoulders and flourished his castanets as if threatening someone. -The soldiers, swinging their arms and keeping time spontaneously, -marched with long steps. Behind the company the sound of wheels, the -creaking of springs, and the tramp of horses' hoofs were heard. -Kutuzov and his suite were returning to the town. The commander in -chief made a sign that the men should continue to march at ease, and -he and all his suite showed pleasure at the sound of the singing and -the sight of the dancing soldier and the gay and smartly marching men. -In the second file from the right flank, beside which the carriage -passed the company, a blue-eyed soldier involuntarily attracted -notice. It was Dolokhov marching with particular grace and boldness in -time to the song and looking at those driving past as if he pitied all -who were not at that moment marching with the company. The hussar -cornet of Kutuzov's suite who had mimicked the regimental commander, -fell back from the carriage and rode up to Dolokhov. - -Hussar cornet Zherkov had at one time, in Petersburg, belonged to -the wild set led by Dolokhov. Zherkov had met Dolokhov abroad as a -private and had not seen fit to recognize him. But now that Kutuzov -had spoken to the gentleman ranker, he addressed him with the -cordiality of an old friend. - -"My dear fellow, how are you?" said he through the singing, making -his horse keep pace with the company. - -"How am I?" Dolokhov answered coldly. "I am as you see." - -The lively song gave a special flavor to the tone of free and easy -gaiety with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of -Dolokhov's reply. - -"And how do you get on with the officers?" inquired Zherkov. - -"All right. They are good fellows. And how have you wriggled onto -the staff?" - -"I was attached; I'm on duty." - -Both were silent. - -"She let the hawk fly upward from her wide right sleeve," went the -song, arousing an involuntary sensation of courage and cheerfulness. -Their conversation would probably have been different but for the -effect of that song. - -"Is it true that Austrians have been beaten?" asked Dolokhov. - -"The devil only knows! They say so." - -"I'm glad," answered Dolokhov briefly and clearly, as the song -demanded. - -"I say, come round some evening and we'll have a game of faro!" said -Zherkov. - -"Why, have you too much money?" - -"Do come." - -"I can't. I've sworn not to. I won't drink and won't play till I get -reinstated." - -"Well, that's only till the first engagement." - -"We shall see." - -They were again silent. - -"Come if you need anything. One can at least be of use on the -staff..." - -Dolokhov smiled. "Don't trouble. If I want anything, I won't beg- -I'll take it!" - -"Well, never mind; I only..." - -"And I only..." - -"Good-by." - -"Good health..." - -``` block - "It's a long, long way. -To my native land..." -``` - -Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly -from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, -galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping -time to the song. - -CHAPTER III - -On returning from the review, Kutuzov took the Austrian general into -his private room and, calling his adjutant, asked for some papers -relating to the condition of the troops on their arrival, and the -letters that had come from the Archduke Ferdinand, who was in -command of the advanced army. Prince Andrew Bolkonski came into the -room with the required papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of -the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a plan was spread -out. - -"Ah!..." said Kutuzov glancing at Bolkonski as if by this -exclamation he was asking the adjutant to wait, and he went on with -the conversation in French. - -"All I can say, General," said he with a pleasant elegance of -expression and intonation that obliged one to listen to each -deliberately spoken word. It was evident that Kutuzov himself listened -with pleasure to his own voice. "All I can say, General, is that if -the matter depended on my personal wishes, the will of His Majesty the -Emperor Francis would have been fulfilled long ago. I should long -ago have joined the archduke. And believe me on my honour that to me -personally it would be a pleasure to hand over the supreme command -of the army into the hands of a better informed and more skillful -general- of whom Austria has so many- and to lay down all this heavy -responsibility. But circumstances are sometimes too strong for us, -General." - -And Kutuzov smiled in a way that seemed to say, "You are quite at -liberty not to believe me and I don't even care whether you do or not, -but you have no grounds for telling me so. And that is the whole -point." - -The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but had no option but to -reply in the same tone. - -"On the contrary," he said, in a querulous and angry tone that -contrasted with his flattering words, "on the contrary, your -excellency's participation in the common action is highly valued by -His Majesty; but we think the present delay is depriving the -splendid Russian troops and their commander of the laurels they have -been accustomed to win in their battles," he concluded his evidently -prearranged sentence. - -Kutuzov bowed with the same smile. - -"But that is my conviction, and judging by the last letter with -which His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has honored me, I imagine -that the Austrian troops, under the direction of so skillful a -leader as General Mack, have by now already gained a decisive -victory and no longer need our aid," said Kutuzov. - -The general frowned. Though there was no definite news of an -Austrian defeat, there were many circumstances confirming the -unfavorable rumors that were afloat, and so Kutuzov's suggestion of an -Austrian victory sounded much like irony. But Kutuzov went on -blandly smiling with the same expression, which seemed to say that -he had a right to suppose so. And, in fact, the last letter he had -received from Mack's army informed him of a victory and stated -strategically the position of the army was very favorable. - -"Give me that letter," said Kutuzov turning to Prince Andrew. -"Please have a look at it"- and Kutuzov with an ironical smile about -the corners of his mouth read to the Austrian general the following -passage, in German, from the Archduke Ferdinand's letter: - -We have fully concentrated forces of nearly seventy thousand men -with which to attack and defeat the enemy should he cross the Lech. -Also, as we are masters of Ulm, we cannot be deprived of the advantage -of commanding both sides of the Danube, so that should the enemy not -cross the Lech, we can cross the Danube, throw ourselves on his line -of communications, recross the river lower down, and frustrate his -intention should he try to direct his whole force against our faithful -ally. We shall therefore confidently await the moment when the -Imperial Russian army will be fully equipped, and shall then, in -conjunction with it, easily find a way to prepare for the enemy the -fate he deserves. - -Kutuzov sighed deeply on finishing this paragraph and looked at -the member of the Hofkriegsrath mildly and attentively. - -"But you know the wise maxim your excellency, advising one to expect -the worst," said the Austrian general, evidently wishing to have -done with jests and to come to business. He involuntarily looked round -at the aide-de-camp. - -"Excuse me, General," interrupted Kutuzov, also turning to Prince -Andrew. "Look here, my dear fellow, get from Kozlovski all the reports -from our scouts. Here are two letters from Count Nostitz and here is -one from His Highness the Archduke Ferdinand and here are these," he -said, handing him several papers, "make a neat memorandum in French -out of all this, showing all the news we have had of the movements -of the Austrian army, and then give it to his excellency." - -Prince Andrew bowed his head in token of having understood from -the first not only what had been said but also what Kutuzov would have -liked to tell him. He gathered up the papers and with a bow to both, -stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the waiting room. - -Though not much time had passed since Prince Andrew had left Russia, -he had changed greatly during that period. In the expression of his -face, in his movements, in his walk, scarcely a trace was left of -his former affected languor and indolence. He now looked like a man -who has time to think of the impression he makes on others, but is -occupied with agreeable and interesting work. His face expressed -more satisfaction with himself and those around him, his smile and -glance were brighter and more attractive. - -Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very -kindly, promised not to forget him, distinguished him above the -other adjutants, and had taken him to Vienna and given him the more -serious commissions. From Vienna Kutuzov wrote to his old comrade, -Prince Andrew's father. - -Your son bids fair to become an officer distinguished by his -industry, firmness, and expedition. I consider myself fortunate to -have such a subordinate by me. - -On Kutuzov's staff, among his fellow officers and in the army -generally, Prince Andrew had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two -quite opposite reputations. Some, a minority, acknowledged him to be -different from themselves and from everyone else, expected great -things of him, listened to him, admired, and imitated him, and with -them Prince Andrew was natural and pleasant. Others, the majority, -disliked him and considered him conceited, cold, and disagreeable. But -among these people Prince Andrew knew how to take his stand so that -they respected and even feared him. - -Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers -in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp -on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book. - -"Well, Prince?" asked Kozlovski. - -"I am ordered to write a memorandum explaining why we are not -advancing." - -"And why is it?" - -Prince Andrew shrugged his shoulders. - -"Any news from Mack?" - -"No." - -"If it were true that he has been beaten, news would have come." - -"Probably," said Prince Andrew moving toward the outer door. - -But at that instant a tall Austrian general in a greatcoat, with the -order of Maria Theresa on his neck and a black bandage round his head, -who had evidently just arrived, entered quickly, slamming the door. -Prince Andrew stopped short. - -"Commander in Chief Kutuzov?" said the newly arrived general -speaking quickly with a harsh German accent, looking to both sides and -advancing straight toward the inner door. - -"The commander in chief is engaged," said Kozlovski, going hurriedly -up to the unknown general and blocking his way to the door. "Whom -shall I announce?" - -The unknown general looked disdainfully down at Kozlovski, who was -rather short, as if surprised that anyone should not know him. - -"The commander in chief is engaged," repeated Kozlovski calmly. - -The general's face clouded, his lips quivered and trembled. He -took out a notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out -the leaf, gave it to Kozlovski, stepped quickly to the window, and -threw himself into a chair, gazing at those in the room as if -asking, "Why do they look at me?" Then he lifted his head, stretched -his neck as if he intended to say something, but immediately, with -affected indifference, began to hum to himself, producing a queer -sound which immediately broke off. The door of the private room opened -and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway. The general with the bandaged -head bent forward as though running away from some danger, and, making -long, quick strides with his thin legs, went up to Kutuzov. - -"Vous voyez le malheureux Mack," he uttered in a broken voice. - -Kutuzov's face as he stood in the open doorway remained perfectly -immobile for a few moments. Then wrinkles ran over his face like a -wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head -respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before -him, and closed the door himself behind him. - -The report which had been circulated that the Austrians had been -beaten and that the whole army had surrendered at Ulm proved to be -correct. Within half an hour adjutants had been sent in various -directions with orders which showed that the Russian troops, who had -hitherto been inactive, would also soon have to meet the enemy. - -Prince Andrew was one of those rare staff officers whose chief -interest lay in the general progress of the war. When he saw Mack -and heard the details of his disaster he understood that half the -campaign was lost, understood all the difficulties of the Russian -army's position, and vividly imagined what awaited it and the part -he would have to play. Involuntarily he felt a joyful agitation at the -thought of the humiliation of arrogant Austria and that in a week's -time he might, perhaps, see and take part in the first Russian -encounter with the French since Suvorov met them. He feared that -Bonaparte's genius might outweigh all the courage of the Russian -troops, and at the same time could not admit the idea of his hero -being disgraced. - -Excited and irritated by these thoughts Prince Andrew went toward -his room to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day. In the -corridor he met Nesvitski, with whom he shared a room, and the wag -Zherkov; they were as usual laughing. - -"Why are you so glum?" asked Nesvitski noticing Prince Andrew's pale -face and glittering eyes. - -"There's nothing to be gay about," answered Bolkonski. - -Just as Prince Andrew met Nesvitski and Zherkov, there came toward -them from the other end of the corridor, Strauch, an Austrian -general who on Kutuzov's staff in charge of the provisioning of the -Russian army, and the member of the Hofkriegsrath who had arrived -the previous evening. There was room enough in the wide corridor for -the generals to pass the three officers quite easily, but Zherkov, -pushing Nesvitski aside with his arm, said in a breathless voice, - -"They're coming!... they're coming!... Stand aside, make way, please -make way!" - -The generals were passing by, looking as if they wished to avoid -embarrassing attentions. On the face of the wag Zherkov there suddenly -appeared a stupid smile of glee which he seemed unable to suppress. - -"Your excellency," said he in German, stepping forward and -addressing the Austrian general, "I have the honor to congratulate -you." - -He bowed his head and scraped first with one foot and then with -the other, awkwardly, like a child at a dancing lesson. - -The member of the Hofkriegsrath looked at him severely but, seeing -the seriousness of his stupid smile, could not but give him a moment's -attention. He screwed up his eyes showing that he was listening. - -"I have the honor to congratulate you. General Mack has arrived, -quite well, only a little bruised just here," he added, pointing -with a beaming smile to his head. - -The general frowned, turned away, and went on. - -"Gott, wie naiv!"~{ "Good God, what simplicity!" }~ said he angrily, after he had gone a few steps. - -Nesvitski with a laugh threw his arms round Prince Andrew, but -Bolkonski, turning still paler, pushed him away with an angry look and -turned to Zherkov. The nervous irritation aroused by the appearance of -Mack, the news of his defeat, and the thought of what lay before the -Russian army found vent in anger at Zherkov's untimely jest. - -"If you, sir, choose to make a buffoon of yourself," he said -sharply, with a slight trembling of the lower jaw, "I can't prevent -your doing so; but I warn you that if you dare to play the fool in -my presence, I will teach you to behave yourself." - -Nesvitski and Zherkov were so surprised by this outburst that they -gazed at Bolkonski silently with wide-open eyes. - -"What's the matter? I only congratulated them," said Zherkov. - -"I am not jesting with you; please be silent!" cried Bolkonski, -and taking Nesvitski's arm he left Zherkov, who did not know what to -say. - -"Come, what's the matter, old fellow?" said Nesvitski trying to -soothe him. - -"What's the matter?" exclaimed Prince Andrew standing still in his -excitement. "Don't you understand that either we are officers -serving our Tsar and our country, rejoicing in the successes and -grieving at the misfortunes of our common cause, or we are merely -lackeys who care nothing for their master's business. Quarante mille -hommes massacres et l'armee de nos allies detruite, et vous trouvez la -le mot pour rire,"~{ "Forty thousand men massacred and the army of our allies destroyed, -and you find that a cause for jesting!" }~ he said, as if strengthening his views by this -French sentence. "C' est bien pour un garcon de rein comme cet -individu dont vous avez fait un ami, mais pas pour vous, pas pour -vous.~{ "It is all very well for that good-for-nothing fellow of whom -you have made a friend, but not for you, not for you." }~ Only a hobbledehoy could amuse himself in this way," he -added in Russian- but pronouncing the word with a French accent- -having noticed that Zherkov could still hear him. - -He waited a moment to see whether the cornet would answer, but he -turned and went out of the corridor. - -CHAPTER IV - -The Pavlograd Hussars were stationed two miles from Braunau. The -squadron in which Nicholas Rostov served as a cadet was quartered in -the German village of Salzeneck. The best quarters in the village were -assigned to cavalry-captain Denisov, the squadron commander, known -throughout the whole cavalry division as Vaska Denisov. Cadet -Rostov, ever since he had overtaken the regiment in Poland, had -lived with the squadron commander. - -On October 11, the day when all was astir at headquarters over the -news of Mack's defeat, the camp life of the officers of this -squadron was proceeding as usual. Denisov, who had been losing at -cards all night, had not yet come home when Rostov rode back early -in the morning from a foraging expedition. Rostov in his cadet -uniform, with a jerk to his horse, rode up to the porch, swung his leg -over the saddle with a supple youthful movement, stood for a moment in -the stirrup as if loathe to part from his horse, and at last sprang -down and called to his orderly. - -"Ah, Bondarenko, dear friend!" said he to the hussar who rushed up -headlong to the horse. "Walk him up and down, my dear fellow," he -continued, with that gay brotherly cordiality which goodhearted -young people show to everyone when they are happy. - -"Yes, your excellency," answered the Ukrainian gaily, tossing his -head. - -"Mind, walk him up and down well!" - -Another hussar also rushed toward the horse, but Bondarenko had -already thrown the reins of the snaffle bridle over the horse's -head. It was evident that the cadet was liberal with his tips and that -it paid to serve him. Rostov patted the horse's neck and then his -flank, and lingered for a moment. - -"Splendid! What a horse he will be!" he thought with a smile, and -holding up his saber, his spurs jingling, he ran up the steps of the -porch. His landlord, who in a waistcoat and a pointed cap, pitchfork -in hand, was clearing manure from the cowhouse, looked out, and his -face immediately brightened on seeing Rostov. "Schon gut Morgen! Schon -gut Morgen!"~{ "A very good morning! A very good morning!" }~ he said winking with a merry smile, evidently pleased to -greet the young man. - -"Schon fleissig?"~{ "Busy already?" }~ said Rostov with the same gay brotherly smile -which did not leave his eager face. "Hoch Oestreicher! Hoch Russen! -Kaiser Alexander hoch!"~{ "Hurrah for the Austrians! Hurrah for the Russians! Hurrah -for Emperor Alexander!" }~ said he, quoting words often repeated by -the German landlord. - -The German laughed, came out of the cowshed, pulled off his cap, and -waving it above his head cried: - -"Und die ganze Welt hoch!"~{ "And hurrah for the whole world!" }~ - -Rostov waved his cap above his head like the German and ctied -laughing, "Und vivat die ganze Welt!" Though neither the German -cleaning his cowshed nor Rostov back with his platoon from foraging -for hay had any reason for rejoicing, they looked at each other with -joyful delight and brotherly love, wagged their heads in token of -their mutual affection, and parted smiling, the German returning to -his cowshed and Rostov going to the cottage he occupied with Denisov. - -"What about your master?" he asked Lavrushka, Denisov's orderly, -whom all the regiment knew for a rogue. - -"Hasn't been in since the evening. Must have been losing," -answered Lavrushka. "I know by now, if he wins he comes back early -to brag about it, but if he stays out till morning it means he's -lost and will come back in a rage. Will you have coffee?" - -"Yes, bring some." - -Ten minutes later Lavrushka brought the coffee. "He's coming!" -said he. "Now for trouble!" Rostov looked out of the window and saw -Denisov coming home. Denisov was a small man with a red face, -sparkling black eyes, and black tousled mustache and hair. He wore -an unfastened cloak, wide breeches hanging down in creases, and a -crumpled shako on the back of his head. He came up to the porch -gloomily, hanging his head. - -"Lavwuska!" he shouted loudly and angrily, "take it off, blockhead!" - -"Well, I am taking it off," replied Lavrushka's voice. - -"Ah, you're up already," said Denisov, entering the room. - -"Long ago," answered Rostov, "I have already been for the hay, and -have seen Fraulein Mathilde." - -"Weally! And I've been losing, bwother. I lost yesterday like a -damned fool!" cried Denisov, not pronouncing his r's. "Such ill -luck! Such ill luck. As soon as you left, it began and went on. -Hullo there! Tea!" - -Puckering up his face though smiling, and showing his short strong -teeth, he began with stubby fingers of both hands to ruffle up his -thick tangled black hair. - -"And what devil made me go to that wat?" (an officer nicknamed -"the rat") he said, rubbing his forehead and whole face with both -hands. "Just fancy, he didn't let me win a single cahd, not one cahd." - -He took the lighted pipe that was offered to him, gripped it in -his fist, and tapped it on the floor, making the sparks fly, while -he continued to shout. - -"He lets one win the singles and collahs it as soon as one doubles -it; gives the singles and snatches the doubles!" - -He scattered the burning tobacco, smashed the pipe, and threw it -away. Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked -cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov. - -"If at least we had some women here; but there's nothing foh one -to do but dwink. If we could only get to fighting soon. Hullo, who's -there?" he said, turning to the door as he heard a tread of heavy -boots and the clinking of spurs that came to a stop, and a -respectful cough. - -"The squadron quartermaster!" said Lavrushka. - -Denisov's face puckered still more. - -"Wetched!" he muttered, throwing down a purse with some gold in -it. "Wostov, deah fellow, just see how much there is left and shove -the purse undah the pillow," he said, and went out to the -quartermaster. - -Rostov took the money and, mechanically arranging the old and new -coins in separate piles, began counting them. - -"Ah! Telyanin! How d'ye do? They plucked me last night," came -Denisov's voice from the next room. - -"Where? At Bykov's, at the rat's... I knew it," replied a piping -voice, and Lieutenant Telyanin, a small officer of the same -squadron, entered the room. - -Rostov thrust the purse under the pillow and shook the damp little -hand which was offered him. Telyanin for some reason had been -transferred from the Guards just before this campaign. He behaved very -well in the regiment but was not liked; Rostov especially detested him -and was unable to overcome or conceal his groundless antipathy to -the man. - -"Well, young cavalryman, how is my Rook behaving?" he asked. (Rook -was a young horse Telyanin had sold to Rostov.) - -The lieutenant never looked the man he was speaking to straight in -the face; his eyes continually wandered from one object to another. - -"I saw you riding this morning..." he added. - -"Oh, he's all right, a good horse," answered Rostov, though the -horse for which he had paid seven hundred rubbles was not worth half -that sum. "He's begun to go a little lame on the left foreleg," he -added. - -"The hoof's cracked! That's nothing. I'll teach you what to do and -show you what kind of rivet to use." - -"Yes, please do," said Rostov. - -"I'll show you, I'll show you! It's not a secret. And it's a horse -you'll thank me for." - -"Then I'll have it brought round," said Rostov wishing to avoid -Telyanin, and he went out to give the order. - -In the passage Denisov, with a pipe, was squatting on the -threshold facing the quartermaster who was reporting to him. On seeing -Rostov, Denisov screwed up his face and pointing over his shoulder -with his thumb to the room where Telyanin was sitting, he frowned -and gave a shudder of disgust. - -"Ugh! I don't like that fellow"' he said, regardless of the -quartermaster's presence. - -Rostov shrugged his shoulders as much as to say: "Nor do I, but -what's one to do?" and, having given his order, he returned to -Telyanin. - -Telyanin was sitting in the same indolent pose in which Rostov had -left him, rubbing his small white hands. - -"Well there certainly are disgusting people," thought Rostov as he -entered. - -"Have you told them to bring the horse?" asked Telyanin, getting -up and looking carelessly about him. - -"I have." - -"Let us go ourselves. I only came round to ask Denisov about -yesterday's order. Have you got it, Denisov?" - -"Not yet. But where are you off to?" - -"I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse," said Telyanin. - -They went through the porch and into the stable. The lieutenant -explained how to rivet the hoof and went away to his own quarters. - -When Rostov went back there was a bottle of vodka and a sausage on -the table. Denisov was sitting there scratching with his pen on a -sheet of paper. He looked gloomily in Rostov's face and said: "I am -witing to her." - -He leaned his elbows on the table with his pen in his hand and, -evidently glad of a chance to say quicker in words what he wanted to -write, told Rostov the contents of his letter. - -"You see, my fwiend," he said, "we sleep when we don't love. We -are childwen of the dust... but one falls in love and one is a God, -one is pua' as on the first day of cweation... Who's that now? Send -him to the devil, I'm busy!" he shouted to Lavrushka, who went up to -him not in the least abashed. - -"Who should it be? You yourself told him to come. It's the -quartermaster for the money." - -Denisov frowned and was about to shout some reply but stopped. - -"Wetched business," he muttered to himself. "How much is left in the -puhse?" he asked, turning to Rostov. - -"Seven new and three old imperials." - -"Oh, it's wetched! Well, what are you standing there for, you -sca'cwow? Call the quahtehmasteh," he shouted to Lavrushka. - -"Please, Denisov, let me lend you some: I have some, you know," said -Rostov, blushing. - -"Don't like bowwowing from my own fellows, I don't," growled -Denisov. - -"But if you won't accept money from me like a comrade, you will -offend me. Really I have some," Rostov repeated. - -"No, I tell you." - -And Denisov went to the bed to get the purse from under the pillow. - -"Where have you put it, Wostov?" - -"Under the lower pillow." - -"It's not there." - -Denisov threw both pillows on the floor. The purse was not there. - -"That's a miwacle." - -"Wait, haven't you dropped it?" said Rostov, picking up the -pillows one at a time and shaking them. - -He pulled off the quilt and shook it. The purse was not there. - -"Dear me, can I have forgotten? No, I remember thinking that you -kept it under your head like a treasure," said Rostov. "I put it -just here. Where is it?" he asked, turning to Lavrushka. - -"I haven't been in the room. It must be where you put it." - -"But it isn't?..." - -"You're always like that; you thwow a thing down anywhere and forget -it. Feel in your pockets." - -"No, if I hadn't thought of it being a treasure," said Rostov, -"but I remember putting it there." - -Lavrushka turned all the bedding over, looked under the bed and -under the table, searched everywhere, and stood still in the middle of -the room. Denisov silently watched Lavrushka's movements, and when the -latter threw up his arms in surprise saying it was nowhere to be found -Denisov glanced at Rostov. - -"Wostov, you've not been playing schoolboy twicks..." - -Rostov felt Denisov's gaze fixed on him, raised his eyes, and -instantly dropped them again. All the blood which had seemed congested -somewhere below his throat rushed to his face and eyes. He could not -draw breath. - -"And there hasn't been anyone in the room except the lieutenant -and yourselves. It must be here somewhere," said Lavrushka. - -"Now then, you devil's puppet, look alive and hunt for it!" -shouted Denisov, suddenly, turning purple and rushing at the man -with a threatening gesture. "If the purse isn't found I'll flog you, -I'll flog you all." - -Rostov, his eyes avoiding Denisov, began buttoning his coat, buckled -on his saber, and put on his cap. - -"I must have that purse, I tell you," shouted Denisov, shaking his -orderly by the shoulders and knocking him against the wall. - -"Denisov, let him alone, I know who has taken it," said Rostov, -going toward the door without raising his eyes. Denisov paused, -thought a moment, and, evidently understanding what Rostov hinted -at, seized his arm. - -"Nonsense!" he cried, and the veins on his forehead and neck stood -out like cords. "You are mad, I tell you. I won't allow it. The -purse is here! I'll flay this scoundwel alive, and it will be found." - -"I know who has taken it," repeated Rostov in an unsteady voice, and -went to the door. - -"And I tell you, don't you dahe to do it!" shouted Denisov, -rushing at the cadet to restrain him. - -But Rostov pulled away his arm and, with as much anger as though -Denisov were his worst enemy, firmly fixed his eyes directly on his -face. - -"Do you understand what you're saying?" he said in a trembling -voice. "There was no one else in the room except myself. So that if it -is not so, then..." - -He could not finish, and ran out of the room. - -"Ah, may the devil take you and evewybody," were the last words -Rostov heard. - -Rostov went to Telyanin's quarters. - -"The master is not in, he's gone to headquarters," said Telyanin's -orderly. "Has something happened?" he added, surprised at the -cadet's troubled face. - -"No, nothing." - -"You've only just missed him," said the orderly. - -The headquarters were situated two miles away from Salzeneck, and -Rostov, without returning home, took a horse and rode there. There was -an inn in the village which the officers frequented. Rostov rode up to -it and saw Telyanin's horse at the porch. - -In the second room of the inn the lieutenant was sitting over a dish -of sausages and a bottle of wine. - -"Ah, you've come here too, young man!" he said, smiling and -raising his eyebrows. - -"Yes," said Rostov as if it cost him a great deal to utter the word; -and he sat down at the nearest table. - -Both were silent. There were two Germans and a Russian officer in -the room. No one spoke and the only sounds heard were the clatter of -knives and the munching of the lieutenant. - -When Telyanin had finished his lunch he took out of his pocket a -double purse and, drawing its rings aside with his small, white, -turned-up fingers, drew out a gold imperial, and lifting his -eyebrows gave it to the waiter. - -"Please be quick," he said. - -The coin was a new one. Rostov rose and went up to Telyanin. - -"Allow me to look at your purse," he said in a low, almost -inaudible, voice. - -With shifting eyes but eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed him -the purse. - -"Yes, it's a nice purse. Yes, yes," he said, growing suddenly -pale, and added, "Look at it, young man." - -Rostov took the purse in his hand, examined it and the money in -it, and looked at Telyanin. The lieutenant was looking about in his -usual way and suddenly seemed to grow very merry. - -"If we get to Vienna I'll get rid of it there but in these -wretched little towns there's nowhere to spend it," said he. "Well, -let me have it, young man, I'm going." - -Rostov did not speak. - -"And you? Are you going to have lunch too? They feed you quite -decently here," continued Telyanin. "Now then, let me have it." - -He stretched out his hand to take hold of the purse. Rostov let go -of it. Telyanin took the purse and began carelessly slipping it into -the pocket of his riding breeches, with his eyebrows lifted and his -mouth slightly open, as if to say, "Yes, yes, I am putting my purse in -my pocket and that's quite simple and is no else's business." - -"Well, young man?" he said with a sigh, and from under his lifted -brows he glanced into Rostov's eyes. - -Some flash as of an electric spark shot from Telyanin's eyes to -Rostov's and back, and back again and again in an instant. - -"Come here," said Rostov, catching hold of Telyanin's arm and almost -dragging him to the window. "That money is Denisov's; you took -it..." he whispered just above Telyanin's ear. - -"What? What? How dare you? What?" said Telyanin. - -But these words came like a piteous, despairing cry and an -entreaty for pardon. As soon as Rostov heard them, an enormous load of -doubt fell from him. He was glad, and at the same instant began to -pity the miserable man who stood before him, but the task he had begun -had to be completed. - -"Heaven only knows what the people here may imagine," muttered -Telyanin, taking up his cap and moving toward a small empty room. -"We must have an explanation..." - -"I know it and shall prove it," said Rostov. - -"I..." - -Every muscle of Telyanin's pale, terrified face began to quiver, his -eyes still shifted from side to side but with a downward look not -rising to Rostov's face, and his sobs were audible. - -"Count!... Don't ruin a young fellow... here is this wretched money, -take it..." He threw it on the table. "I have an old father and -mother!..." - -Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the -room without a word. But at the door he stopped and then retraced -his steps. "O God," he said with tears in his eyes, "how could you -do it?" - -"Count..." said Telyanin drawing nearer to him. - -"Don't touch me," said Rostov, drawing back. "If you need it, take -the money," and he threw the purse to him and ran out of the inn. - -CHAPTER V - -That same evening there was an animated discussion among the -squadron's officers in Denisov's quarters. - -"And I tell you, Rostov, that you must apologize to the colonel!" -said a tall, grizzly-haired staff captain, with enormous mustaches and -many wrinkles on his large features, to Rostov who was crimson with -excitement. - -The staff captain, Kirsten, had twice been reduced to the ranks -for affairs of honor and had twice regained his commission. - -"I will allow no one to call me a liar!" cried Rostov. "He told me I -lied, and I told him he lied. And there it rests. He may keep me on -duty every day, or may place me under arrest, but no one can make me -apologize, because if he, as commander of this regiment, thinks it -beneath his dignity to give me satisfaction, then..." - -"You just wait a moment, my dear fellow, and listen," interrupted -the staff captain in his deep bass, calmly stroking his long mustache. -"You tell the colonel in the presence of other officers that an -officer has stolen..." - -"I'm not to blame that the conversation began in the presence of -other officers. Perhaps I ought not to have spoken before them, but -I am not a diplomatist. That's why I joined the hussars, thinking that -here one would not need finesse; and he tells me that I am lying- so -let him give me satisfaction..." - -"That's all right. No one thinks you a coward, but that's not the -point. Ask Denisov whether it is not out of the question for a cadet -to demand satisfaction of his regimental commander?" - -Denisov sat gloomily biting his mustache and listening to the -conversation, evidently with no wish to take part in it. He answered -the staff captain's question by a disapproving shake of his head. - -"You speak to the colonel about this nasty business before other -officers," continued the staff captain, "and Bogdanich" (the colonel -was called Bogdanich) "shuts you up." - -"He did not shut me up, he said I was telling an untruth." - -"Well, have it so, and you talked a lot of nonsense to him and -must apologize." - -"Not on any account!" exclaimed Rostov. - -"I did not expect this of you," said the staff captain seriously and -severely. "You don't wish to apologize, but, man, it's not only to him -but to the whole regiment- all of us- you're to blame all round. The -case is this: you ought to have thought the matter over and taken -advice; but no, you go and blurt it all straight out before the -officers. Now what was the colonel to do? Have the officer tried and -disgrace the whole regiment? Disgrace the whole regiment because of -one scoundrel? Is that how you look at it? We don't see it like -that. And Bogdanich was a brick: he told you you were saying what -was not true. It's not pleasant, but what's to be done, my dear -fellow? You landed yourself in it. And now, when one wants to smooth -the thing over, some conceit prevents your apologizing, and you wish -to make the whole affair public. You are offended at being put on duty -a bit, but why not apologize to an old and honorable officer? Whatever -Bogdanich may be, anyway he is an honorable and brave old colonel! -You're quick at taking offense, but you don't mind disgracing the -whole regiment!" The staff captain's voice began to tremble. "You have -been in the regiment next to no time, my lad, you're here today and -tomorrow you'll be appointed adjutant somewhere and can snap your -fingers when it is said 'There are thieves among the Pavlograd -officers!' But it's not all the same to us! Am I not right, Denisov? -It's not the same!" - -Denisov remained silent and did not move, but occasionally looked -with his glittering black eyes at Rostov. - -"You value your own pride and don't wish to apologize," continued -the staff captain, "but we old fellows, who have grown up in and, -God willing, are going to die in the regiment, we prize the honor of -the regiment, and Bogdanich knows it. Oh, we do prize it, old -fellow! And all this is not right, it's not right! You may take -offense or not but I always stick to mother truth. It's not right!" - -And the staff captain rose and turned away from Rostov. - -"That's twue, devil take it" shouted Denisov, jumping up. "Now then, -Wostov, now then!" - -Rostov, growing red and pale alternately, looked first at one -officer and then at the other. - -"No, gentlemen, no... you mustn't think... I quite understand. -You're wrong to think that of me... I... for me... for the honor of -the regiment I'd... Ah well, I'll show that in action, and for me -the honor of the flag... Well, never mind, it's true I'm to blame, -to blame all round. Well, what else do you want?..." - -"Come, that's right, Count!" cried the staff captain, turning -round and clapping Rostov on the shoulder with his big hand. - -"I tell you," shouted Denisov, "he's a fine fellow." - -"That's better, Count," said the staff captain, beginning to address -Rostov by his title, as if in recognition of his confession. "Go and -apologize, your excellency. Yes, go!" - -"Gentlemen, I'll do anything. No one shall hear a word from me," -said Rostov in an imploring voice, "but I can't apologize, by God I -can't, do what you will! How can I go and apologize like a little -boy asking forgiveness?" - -Denisov began to laugh. - -"It'll be worse for you. Bogdanich is vindictive and you'll pay -for your obstinacy," said Kirsten. - -"No, on my word it's not obstinacy! I can't describe the feeling. -I can't..." - -"Well, it's as you like," said the staff captain. "And what has -become of that scoundrel?" he asked Denisov. - -"He has weported himself sick, he's to be stwuck off the list -tomowwow," muttered Denisov. - -"It is an illness, there's no other way of explaining it," said -the staff captain. - -"Illness or not, he'd better not cwoss my path. I'd kill him!" -shouted Denisov in a bloodthirsty tone. - -Just then Zherkov entered the room. - -"What brings you here?" cried the officers turning to the newcomer. - -"We're to go into action, gentlemen! Mack has surrendered with his -whole army." - -"It's not true!" - -"I've seen him myself!" - -"What? Saw the real Mack? With hands and feet?" - -"Into action! Into action! Bring him a bottle for such news! But how -did you come here?" - -"I've been sent back to the regiment all on account of that devil, -Mack. An Austrian general complained of me. I congratulated him on -Mack's arrival... What's the matter, Rostov? You look as if you'd just -come out of a hot bath." - -"Oh, my dear fellow, we're in such a stew here these last two days." - -The regimental adjutant came in and confirmed the news brought by -Zherkov. They were under orders to advance next day. - -"We're going into action, gentlemen!" - -"Well, thank God! We've been sitting here too long!" - -CHAPTER VI - -Kutuzov fell back toward Vienna, destroying behind him the bridges -over the rivers Inn (at Braunau) and Traun (near Linz). On October -23 the Russian troops were crossing the river Enns. At midday the -Russian baggage train, the artillery, and columns of troops were -defiling through the town of Enns on both sides of the bridge. - -It was a warm, rainy, autumnal day. The wide expanse that opened out -before the heights on which the Russian batteries stood guarding the -bridge was at times veiled by a diaphanous curtain of slanting rain, -and then, suddenly spread out in the sunlight, far-distant objects -could be clearly seen glittering as though freshly varnished. Down -below, the little town could be seen with its white, red-roofed -houses, its cathedral, and its bridge, on both sides of which streamed -jostling masses of Russian troops. At the bend of the Danube, vessels, -an island, and a castle with a park surrounded by the waters of the -confluence of the Enns and the Danube became visible, and the rocky -left bank of the Danube covered with pine forests, with a mystic -background of green treetops and bluish gorges. The turrets of a -convent stood out beyond a wild virgin pine forest, and far away on -the other side of the Enns the enemy's horse patrols could be -discerned. - -Among the field guns on the brow of the hill the general in -command of the rearguard stood with a staff officer, scanning the -country through his fieldglass. A little behind them Nesvitski, who -had been sent to the rearguard by the commander in chief, was -sitting on the trail of a gun carriage. A Cossack who accompanied -him had handed him a knapsack and a flask, and Nesvitski was -treating some officers to pies and real doppelkummel. The officers -gladly gathered round him, some on their knees, some squatting Turkish -fashion on the wet grass. - -"Yes, the Austrian prince who built that castle was no fool. It's -a fine place! Why are you not eating anything, gentlemen?" Nesvitski -was saying. - -"Thank you very much, Prince," answered one of the officers, pleased -to be talking to a staff officer of such importance. "It's a lovely -place! We passed close to the park and saw two deer... and what a -splendid house!" - -"Look, Prince," said another, who would have dearly liked to take -another pie but felt shy, and therefore pretended to be examining -the countryside- "See, our infantrymen have already got there. Look -there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging -something. They'll ransack that castle," he remarked with evident -approval. - -"So they will," said Nesvitski. "No, but what I should like," -added he, munching a pie in his moist-lipped handsome mouth, "would be -to slip in over there." - -He pointed with a smile to a turreted nunnery, and his eyes narrowed -and gleamed. - -"That would be fine, gentlemen!" - -The officers laughed. - -"Just to flutter the nuns a bit. They say there are Italian girls -among them. On my word I'd give five years of my life for it!" - -"They must be feeling dull, too," said one of the bolder officers, -laughing. - -Meanwhile the staff officer standing in front pointed out -something to the general, who looked through his field glass. - -"Yes, so it is, so it is," said the general angrily, lowering the -field glass and shrugging his shoulders, "so it is! They'll be fired -on at the crossing. And why are they dawdling there?" - -On the opposite side the enemy could be seen by the naked eye, and -from their battery a milk-white cloud arose. Then came the distant -report of a shot, and our troops could be seen hurrying to the -crossing. - -Nesvitski rose, puffing, and went up to the general, smiling. - -"Would not your excellency like a little refreshment?" he said. - -"It's a bad business," said the general without answering him, -"our men have been wasting time." - -"Hadn't I better ride over, your excellency?" asked Nesvitski. - -"Yes, please do," answered the general, and he repeated the order -that had already once been given in detail: "and tell the hussars that -they are to cross last and to fire the bridge as I ordered; and the -inflammable material on the bridge must be reinspected." - -"Very good," answered Nesvitski. - -He called the Cossack with his horse, told him to put away the -knapsack and flask, and swung his heavy person easily into the saddle. - -"I'll really call in on the nuns," he said to the officers who -watched him smilingly, and he rode off by the winding path down the -hill. - -"Now then, let's see how far it will carry, Captain. Just try!" said -the general, turning to an artillery officer. "Have a little fun to -pass the time." - -"Crew, to your guns!" commanded the officer. - -In a moment the men came running gaily from their campfires and -began loading. - -"One!" came the command. - -Number one jumped briskly aside. The gun rang out with a deafening -metallic roar, and a whistling grenade flew above the heads of our -troops below the hill and fell far short of the enemy, a little -smoke showing the spot where it burst. - -The faces of officers and men brightened up at the sound. Everyone -got up and began watching the movements of our troops below, as -plainly visible as if but a stone's throw away, and the movements of -the approaching enemy farther off. At the same instant the sun came -fully out from behind the clouds, and the clear sound of the -solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine merged in a -single joyous and spirited impression. - -CHAPTER VII - -Two of the enemy's shots had already flown across the bridge, -where there was a crush. Halfway across stood Prince Nesvitski, who -had alighted from his horse and whose big body was body was jammed -against the railings. He looked back laughing to the Cossack who stood -a few steps behind him holding two horses by their bridles. Each -time Prince Nesvitski tried to move on, soldiers and carts pushed -him back again and pressed him against the railings, and all he -could do was to smile. - -"What a fine fellow you are, friend!" said the Cossack to a convoy -soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the infantrymen who were -crowded together close to his wheels and his horses. "What a fellow! -You can't wait a moment! Don't you see the general wants to pass?" - -But the convoyman took no notice of the word "general" and shouted -at the soldiers who were blocking his way. "Hi there, boys! Keep to -the left! Wait a bit." But the soldiers, crowded together shoulder -to shoulder, their bayonets interlocking, moved over the bridge in a -dense mass. Looking down over the rails Prince Nesvitski saw the -rapid, noisy little waves of the Enns, which rippling and eddying -round the piles of the bridge chased each other along. Looking on -the bridge he saw equally uniform living waves of soldiers, shoulder -straps, covered shakos, knapsacks, bayonets, long muskets, and, -under the shakos, faces with broad cheekbones, sunken cheeks, and -listless tired expressions, and feet that moved through the sticky mud -that covered the planks of the bridge. Sometimes through the -monotonous waves of men, like a fleck of white foam on the waves of -the Enns, an officer, in a cloak and with a type of face different -from that of the men, squeezed his way along; sometimes like a chip of -wood whirling in the river, an hussar on foot, an orderly, or a -townsman was carried through the waves of infantry; and sometimes like -a log floating down the river, an officers' or company's baggage -wagon, piled high, leather covered, and hemmed in on all sides, -moved across the bridge. - -"It's as if a dam had burst," said the Cossack hopelessly. "Are -there many more of you to come?" - -"A million all but one!" replied a waggish soldier in a torn coat, -with a wink, and passed on followed by another, an old man. - -"If he" (he meant the enemy) "begins popping at the bridge now," -said the old soldier dismally to a comrade, "you'll forget to -scratch yourself." - -That soldier passed on, and after him came another sitting on a -cart. - -"Where the devil have the leg bands been shoved to?" said an -orderly, running behind the cart and fumbling in the back of it. - -And he also passed on with the wagon. Then came some merry -soldiers who had evidently been drinking. - -"And then, old fellow, he gives him one in the teeth with the butt -end of his gun..." a soldier whose greatcoat was well tucked up said -gaily, with a wide swing of his arm. - -"Yes, the ham was just delicious..." answered another with a loud -laugh. And they, too, passed on, so that Nesvitski did not learn who -had been struck on the teeth, or what the ham had to do with it. - -"Bah! How they scurry. He just sends a ball and they think they'll -all be killed," a sergeant was saying angrily and reproachfully. - -"As it flies past me, Daddy, the ball I mean," said a young -soldier with an enormous mouth, hardly refraining from laughing, "I -felt like dying of fright. I did, 'pon my word, I got that -frightened!" said he, as if bragging of having been frightened. - -That one also passed. Then followed a cart unlike any that had -gone before. It was a German cart with a pair of horses led by a -German, and seemed loaded with a whole houseful of effects. A fine -brindled cow with a large udder was attached to the cart behind. A -woman with an unweaned baby, an old woman, and a healthy German girl -with bright red cheeks were sitting on some feather beds. Evidently -these fugitives were allowed to pass by special permission. The eyes -of all the soldiers turned toward the women, and while the vehicle was -passing at foot pace all the soldiers' remarks related to the two -young ones. Every face bore almost the same smile, expressing unseemly -thoughts about the women. - -"Just see, the German sausage is making tracks, too!" - -"Sell me the missis," said another soldier, addressing the German, -who, angry and frightened, strode energetically along with downcast -eyes. - -"See how smart she's made herself! Oh, the devils!" - -"There, Fedotov, you should be quartered on them!" - -"I have seen as much before now, mate!" - -"Where are you going?" asked an infantry officer who was eating an -apple, also half smiling as he looked at the handsome girl. - -The German closed his eyes, signifying that he did not understand. - -"Take it if you like," said the officer, giving the girl an apple. - -The girl smiled and took it. Nesvitski like the rest of the men on -the bridge did not take his eyes off the women till they had passed. -When they had gone by, the same stream of soldiers followed, with -the same kind of talk, and at last all stopped. As often happens, -the horses of a convoy wagon became restive at the end of the -bridge, and the whole crowd had to wait. - -"And why are they stopping? There's no proper order!" said the -soldiers. "Where are you shoving to? Devil take you! Can't you wait? -It'll be worse if he fires the bridge. See, here's an officer jammed -in too"- different voices were saying in the crowd, as the men -looked at one another, and all pressed toward the exit from the -bridge. - -Looking down at the waters of the Enns under the bridge, Nesvitski -suddenly heard a sound new to him, of something swiftly approaching... -something big, that splashed into the water. - -"Just see where it carries to!" a soldier near by said sternly, -looking round at the sound. - -"Encouraging us to get along quicker," said another uneasily. - -The crowd moved on again. Nesvitski realized that it was a cannon -ball. - -"Hey, Cossack, my horse!" he said. "Now, then, you there! get out of -the way! Make way!" - -With great difficulty he managed to get to his horse, and shouting -continually he moved on. The soldiers squeezed themselves to make -way for him, but again pressed on him so that they jammed his leg, and -those nearest him were not to blame for they were themselves pressed -still harder from behind. - -"Nesvitski, Nesvitski! you numskull!" came a hoarse voice from -behind him. - -Nesvitski looked round and saw, some fifteen paces away but -separated by the living mass of moving infantry, Vaska Denisov, red -and shaggy, with his cap on the back of his black head and a cloak -hanging jauntily over his shoulder. - -"Tell these devils, these fiends, to let me pass!" shouted Denisov -evidently in a fit of rage, his coal-black eyes with their bloodshot -whites glittering and rolling as he waved his sheathed saber in a -small bare hand as red as his face. - -"Ah, Vaska!" joyfully replied Nesvitski. "What's up with you?" - -"The squadwon can't pass," shouted Vaska Denisov, showing his -white teeth fiercely and spurring his black thoroughbred Arab, which -twitched its ears as the bayonets touched it, and snorted, spurting -white foam from his bit, tramping the planks of the bridge with his -hoofs, and apparently ready to jump over the railings had his rider -let him. "What is this? They're like sheep! Just like sheep! Out of -the way!... Let us pass!... Stop there, you devil with the cart! -I'll hack you with my saber!" he shouted, actually drawing his saber -from its scabbard and flourishing it - -The soldiers crowded against one another with terrified faces, and -Denisov joined Nesvitski. - -"How's it you're not drunk today?" said Nesvitski when the other had -ridden up to him. - -"They don't even give one time to dwink!" answered Vaska Denisov. -"They keep dwagging the wegiment to and fwo all day. If they mean to -fight, let's fight. But the devil knows what this is." - -"What a dandy you are today!" said Nesvitski, looking at Denisov's -new cloak and saddlecloth. - -Denisov smiled, took out of his sabretache a handkerchief that -diffused a smell of perfume, and put it to Nesvitski's nose. - -"Of course. I'm going into action! I've shaved, bwushed my teeth, -and scented myself." - -The imposing figure of Nesvitski followed by his Cossack, and the -determination of Denisov who flourished his sword and shouted -frantically, had such an effect that they managed to squeeze through -to the farther side of the bridge and stopped the infantry. Beside the -bridge Nesvitski found the colonel to whom he had to deliver the -order, and having done this he rode back. - -Having cleared the way Denisov stopped at the end of the bridge. -Carelessly holding in his stallion that was neighing and pawing the -ground, eager to rejoin its fellows, he watched his squadron draw -nearer. Then the clang of hoofs, as of several horses galloping, -resounded on the planks of the bridge, and the squadron, officers in -front and men four abreast, spread across the bridge and began to -emerge on his side of it. - -The infantry who had been stopped crowded near the bridge in the -trampled mud and gazed with that particular feeling of ill-will, -estrangement, and ridicule with which troops of different arms usually -encounter one another at the clean, smart hussars who moved past -them in regular order. - -"Smart lads! Only fit for a fair!" said one. - -"What good are they? They're led about just for show!" remarked -another. - -"Don't kick up the dust, you infantry!" jested an hussar whose -prancing horse had splashed mud over some foot soldiers. - -"I'd like to put you on a two days' march with a knapsack! Your fine -cords would soon get a bit rubbed," said an infantryman, wiping the -mud off his face with his sleeve. "Perched up there, you're more -like a bird than a man." - -"There now, Zikin, they ought to put you on a horse. You'd look -fine," said a corporal, chaffing a thin little soldier who bent -under the weight of his knapsack. - -"Take a stick between your legs, that'll suit you for a horse!" -the hussar shouted back. - -CHAPTER VIII - -The last of the infantry hurriedly crossed the bridge, squeezing -together as they approached it as if passing through a funnel. At last -the baggage wagons had all crossed, the crush was less, and the last -battalion came onto the bridge. Only Denisov's squadron of hussars -remained on the farther side of the bridge facing the enemy, who could -be seen from the hill on the opposite bank but was not yet visible -from the bridge, for the horizon as seen from the valley through which -the river flowed was formed by the rising ground only half a mile -away. At the foot of the hill lay wasteland over which a few groups of -our Cossack scouts were moving. Suddenly on the road at the top of the -high ground, artillery and troops in blue uniform were seen. These -were the French. A group of Cossack scouts retired down the hill at -a trot. All the officers and men of Denisov's squadron, though they -tried to talk of other things and to look in other directions, thought -only of what was there on the hilltop, and kept constantly looking -at the patches appearing on the skyline, which they knew to be the -enemy's troops. The weather had cleared again since noon and the sun -was descending brightly upon the Danube and the dark hills around -it. It was calm, and at intervals the bugle calls and the shouts of -the enemy could be heard from the hill. There was no one now between -the squadron and the enemy except a few scattered skirmishers. An -empty space of some seven hundred yards was all that separated them. -The enemy ceased firing, and that stern, threatening, inaccessible, -and intangible line which separates two hostile armies was all the -more clearly felt. - -"One step beyond that boundary line which resembles the line -dividing the living from the dead lies uncertainty, suffering, and -death. And what is there? Who is there?- there beyond that field, that -tree, that roof lit up by the sun? No one knows, but one wants to -know. You fear and yet long to cross that line, and know that sooner -or later it must be crossed and you will have to find out what is -there, just as you will inevitably have to learn what lies the other -side of death. But you are strong, healthy, cheerful, and excited, and -are surrounded by other such excitedly animated and healthy men." So -thinks, or at any rate feels, anyone who comes in sight of the -enemy, and that feeling gives a particular glamour and glad keenness -of impression to everything that takes place at such moments. - -On the high ground where the enemy was, the smoke of a cannon -rose, and a ball flew whistling over the heads of the hussar squadron. -The officers who had been standing together rode off to their -places. The hussars began carefully aligning their horses. Silence -fell on the whole squadron. All were looking at the enemy in front and -at the squadron commander, awaiting the word of command. A second -and a third cannon ball flew past. Evidently they were firing at the -hussars, but the balls with rapid rhythmic whistle flew over the heads -of the horsemen and fell somewhere beyond them. The hussars did not -look round, but at the sound of each shot, as at the word of -command, the whole squadron with its rows of faces so alike yet so -different, holding its breath while the ball flew past, rose in the -stirrups and sank back again. The soldiers without turning their heads -glanced at one another, curious to see their comrades' impression. -Every face, from Denisov's to that of the bugler, showed one common -expression of conflict, irritation, and excitement, around chin and -mouth. The quartermaster frowned, looking at the soldiers as if -threatening to punish them. Cadet Mironov ducked every time a ball -flew past. Rostov on the left flank, mounted on his Rook- a handsome -horse despite its game leg- had the happy air of a schoolboy called up -before a large audience for an examination in which he feels sure he -will distinguish himself. He was glancing at everyone with a clear, -bright expression, as if asking them to notice how calmly he sat under -fire. But despite himself, on his face too that same indication of -something new and stern showed round the mouth. - -"Who's that curtseying there? Cadet Miwonov! That's not wight! -Look at me," cried Denisov who, unable to keep still on one spot, kept -turning his horse in front of the squadron. - -The black, hairy, snub-nosed face of Vaska Denisov, and his whole -short sturdy figure with the sinewy hairy hand and stumpy fingers in -which he held the hilt of his naked saber, looked just as it usually -did, especially toward evening when he had emptied his second -bottle; he was only redder than usual. With his shaggy head thrown -back like birds when they drink, pressing his spurs mercilessly into -the sides of his good horse, Bedouin, and sitting as though falling -backwards in the saddle, he galloped to the other flank of the -squadron and shouted in a hoarse voice to the men to look to their -pistols. He rode up to Kirsten. The staff captain on his broad-backed, -steady mare came at a walk to meet him. His face with its long -mustache was serious as always, only his eyes were brighter than -usual. - -"Well, what about it?" said he to Denisov. "It won't come to a -fight. You'll see- we shall retire." - -"The devil only knows what they're about!" muttered Denisov. "Ah, -Wostov," he cried noticing the cadet's bright face, "you've got it -at last." - -And he smiled approvingly, evidently pleased with the cadet. -Rostov felt perfectly happy. Just then the commander appeared on the -bridge. Denisov galloped up to him. - -"Your excellency! Let us attack them! I'll dwive them off." - -"Attack indeed!" said the colonel in a bored voice, puckering up his -face as if driving off a troublesome fly. "And why are you stopping -here? Don't you see the skirmishers are retreating? Lead the -squadron back." - -The squadron crossed the bridge and drew out of range of fire -without having lost a single man. The second squadron that had been in -the front line followed them across and the last Cossacks quitted -the farther side of the river. - -The two Pavlograd squadrons, having crossed the bridge, retired up -the hill one after the other. Their colonel, Karl Bogdanich -Schubert, came up to Denisov's squadron and rode at a footpace not far -from Rostov, without taking any notice of him although they were now -meeting for the first time since their encounter concerning -Telyanin. Rostov, feeling that he was at the front and in the power of -a man toward whom he now admitted that he had been to blame, did not -lift his eyes from the colonel's athletic back, his nape covered -with light hair, and his red neck. It seemed to Rostov that -Bogdanich was only pretending not to notice him, and that his whole -aim now was to test the cadet's courage, so he drew himself up and -looked around him merrily; then it seemed to him that Bogdanich rode -so near in order to show him his courage. Next he thought that his -enemy would send the squadron on a desperate attack just to punish -him- Rostov. Then he imagined how, after the attack, Bogdanich would -come up to him as he lay wounded and would magnanimously extend the -hand of reconciliation. - -The high-shouldered figure of Zherkov, familiar to the Pavlograds as -he had but recently left their regiment, rode up to the colonel. After -his dismissal from headquarters Zherkov had not remained in the -regiment, saying he was not such a fool as to slave at the front -when he could get more rewards by doing nothing on the staff, and -had succeeded in attaching himself as an orderly officer to Prince -Bagration. He now came to his former chief with an order from the -commander of the rear guard. - -"Colonel," he said, addressing Rostov's enemy with an air of -gloomy gravity and glancing round at his comrades, "there is an -order to stop and fire the bridge." - -"An order to who?" asked the colonel morosely. - -"I don't myself know 'to who,'" replied the cornet in a serious -tone, "but the prince told me to 'go and tell the colonel that the -hussars must return quickly and fire the bridge.'" - -Zherkov was followed by an officer of the suite who rode up to the -colonel of hussars with the same order. After him the stout -Nesvitski came galloping up on a Cossack horse that could scarcely -carry his weight. - -"How's this, Colonel?" he shouted as he approached. "I told you to -fire the bridge, and now someone has gone and blundered; they are -all beside themselves over there and one can't make anything out." - -The colonel deliberately stopped the regiment and turned to -Nesvitski. - -"You spoke to me of inflammable material," said he, "but you said -nothing about firing it." - -"But, my dear sir," said Nesvitski as he drew up, taking off his cap -and smoothing his hair wet with perspiration with his plump hand, -"wasn't I telling you to fire the bridge, when inflammable material -had been put in position?" - -"I am not your 'dear sir,' Mr. Staff Officer, and you did not tell -me to burn the bridge! I know the service, and it is my habit orders -strictly to obey. You said the bridge would be burned, but who would -it burn, I could not know by the holy spirit!" - -"Ah, that's always the way!" said Nesvitski with a wave of the hand. -"How did you get here?" said he, turning to Zherkov. - -"On the same business. But you are damp! Let me wring you out!" - -"You were saying, Mr. Staff Officer..." continued the colonel in -an offended tone. - -"Colonel," interrupted the officer of the suite, "You must be -quick or the enemy will bring up his guns to use grapeshot." - -The colonel looked silently at the officer of the suite, at the -stout staff officer, and at Zherkov, and he frowned. - -"I will the bridge fire," he said in a solemn tone as if to announce -that in spite of all the unpleasantness he had to endure he would -still do the right thing. - -Striking his horse with his long muscular legs as if it were to -blame for everything, the colonel moved forward and ordered the second -squadron, that in which Rostov was serving under Denisov, to return to -the bridge. - -"There, it's just as I thought," said Rostov to himself. "He -wishes to test me!" His heart contracted and the blood rushed to his -face. "Let him see whether I am a coward!" he thought. - -Again on all the bright faces of the squadron the serious expression -appeared that they had worn when under fire. Rostov watched his enemy, -the colonel, closely- to find in his face confirmation of his own -conjecture, but the colonel did not once glance at Rostov, and -looked as he always did when at the front, solemn and stern. Then came -the word of command. - -"Look sharp! Look sharp!" several voices repeated around him. - -Their sabers catching in the bridles and their spurs jingling, the -hussars hastily dismounted, not knowing what they were to do. The -men were crossing themselves. Rostov no longer looked at the -colonel, he had no time. He was afraid of falling behind the -hussars, so much afraid that his heart stood still. His hand -trembled as he gave his horse into an orderly's charge, and he felt -the blood rush to his heart with a thud. Denisov rode past him, -leaning back and shouting something. Rostov saw nothing but the -hussars running all around him, their spurs catching and their -sabers clattering. - -"Stretchers!" shouted someone behind him. - -Rostov did not think what this call for stretchers meant; he ran on, -trying only to be ahead of the others; but just at the bridge, not -looking at the ground, he came on some sticky, trodden mud, -stumbled, and fell on his hands. The others outstripped him. - -"At boss zides, Captain," he heard the voice of the colonel, who, -having ridden ahead, had pulled up his horse near the bridge, with a -triumphant, cheerful face. - -Rostov wiping his muddy hands on his breeches looked at his enemy -and was about to run on, thinking that the farther he went to the -front the better. But Bogdanich, without looking at or recognizing -Rostov, shouted to him: - -"Who's that running on the middle of the bridge? To the right! -Come back, Cadet!" he cried angrily; and turning to Denisov, who, -showing off his courage, had ridden on to the planks of the bridge: - -"Why run risks, Captain? You should dismount," he said. - -"Oh, every bullet has its billet," answered Vaska Denisov, turning -in his saddle. - -Meanwhile Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer of the suite were -standing together out of range of the shots, watching, now the small -group of men with yellow shakos, dark-green jackets braided with cord, -and blue riding breeches, who were swarming near the bridge, and -then at what was approaching in the distance from the opposite side- -the blue uniforms and groups with horses, easily recognizable as -artillery. - -"Will they burn the bridge or not? Who'll get there first? Will they -get there and fire the bridge or will the French get within -grapeshot range and wipe them out?" These were the questions each -man of the troops on the high ground above the bridge involuntarily -asked himself with a sinking heart- watching the bridge and the -hussars in the bright evening light and the blue tunics advancing from -the other side with their bayonets and guns. - -"Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are within -grapeshot range now." - -"He shouldn't have taken so many men," said the officer of the -suite. - -"True enough," answered Nesvitski; "two smart fellows could have -done the job just as well." - -"Ah, your excellency," put in Zherkov, his eyes fixed on the -hussars, but still with that naive air that made it impossible to know -whether he was speaking in jest or in earnest. "Ah, your excellency! -How you look at things! Send two men? And who then would give us the -Vladimir medal and ribbon? But now, even if they do get peppered, -the squadron may be recommended for honors and he may get a ribbon. -Our Bogdanich knows how things are done." - -"There now!" said the officer of the suite, "that's grapeshot." - -He pointed to the French guns, the limbers of which were being -detached and hurriedly removed. - -On the French side, amid the groups with cannon, a cloud of smoke -appeared, then a second and a third almost simultaneously, and at -the moment when the first report was heard a fourth was seen. Then two -reports one after another, and a third. - -"Oh! Oh!" groaned Nesvitski as if in fierce pain, seizing the -officer of the suite by the arm. "Look! A man has fallen! Fallen, -fallen!" - -"Two, I think." - -"If I were Tsar I would never go to war," said Nesvitski, turning -away. - -The French guns were hastily reloaded. The infantry in their blue -uniforms advanced toward the bridge at a run. Smoke appeared again but -at irregular intervals, and grapeshot cracked and rattled onto the -bridge. But this time Nesvitski could not see what was happening -there, as a dense cloud of smoke arose from it. The hussars had -succeeded in setting it on fire and the French batteries were now -firing at them, no longer to hinder them but because the guns were -trained and there was someone to fire at. - -The French had time to fire three rounds of grapeshot before the -hussars got back to their horses. Two were misdirected and the shot -went too high, but the last round fell in the midst of a group of -hussars and knocked three of them over. - -Rostov, absorbed by his relations with Bogdanich, had paused on -the bridge not knowing what to do. There was no one to hew down (as he -had always imagined battles to himself), nor could he help to fire the -bridge because he had not brought any burning straw with him like -the other soldiers. He stood looking about him, when suddenly he heard -a rattle on the bridge as if nuts were being spilt, and the hussar -nearest to him fell against the rails with a groan. Rostov ran up to -him with the others. Again someone shouted, "Stretchers!" Four men -seized the hussar and began lifting him. - -"Oooh! For Christ's sake let me alone!" cried the wounded man, but -still he was lifted and laid on the stretcher. - -Nicholas Rostov turned away and, as if searching for something, -gazed into the distance, at the waters of the Danube, at the sky, -and at the sun. How beautiful the sky looked; how blue, how calm, -and how deep! How bright and glorious was the setting sun! With what -soft glitter the waters of the distant Danube shone. And fairer -still were the faraway blue mountains beyond the river, the nunnery, -the mysterious gorges, and the pine forests veiled in the mist of -their summits... There was peace and happiness... "I should wishing -for nothing else, nothing, if only I were there," thought Rostov. -"In myself alone and in that sunshine there is so much happiness; -but here... groans, suffering, fear, and this uncertainty and hurry... -There- they are shouting again, and again are all running back -somewhere, and I shall run with them, and it, death, is here above -me and around... Another instant and I shall never again see the -sun, this water, that gorge!..." - -At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds, and other -stretchers came into view before Rostov. And the fear of death and -of the stretchers, and love of the sun and of life, all merged into -one feeling of sickening agitation. - -"O Lord God! Thou who art in that heaven, save, forgive, and protect -me!" Rostov whispered. - -The hussars ran back to the men who held their horses; their -voices sounded louder and calmer, the stretchers disappeared from -sight. - -"Well, fwiend? So you've smelt powdah!" shouted Vaska Denisov just -above his ear. - -"It's all over; but I am a coward- yes, a coward!" thought Rostov, -and sighing deeply he took Rook, his horse, which stood resting one -foot, from the orderly and began to mount. - -"Was that grapeshot?" he asked Denisov. - -"Yes and no mistake!" cried Denisov. "You worked like wegular bwicks -and it's nasty work! An attack's pleasant work! Hacking away at the -dogs! But this sort of thing is the very devil, with them shooting -at you like a target." - -And Denisov rode up to a group that had stopped near Rostov, -composed of the colonel, Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer from -the suite. - -"Well, it seems that no one has noticed," thought Rostov. And this -was true. No one had taken any notice, for everyone knew the sensation -which the cadet under fire for the first time had experienced. - -"Here's something for you to report," said Zherkov. "See if I -don't get promoted to a sublieutenancy." - -"Inform the prince that I the bridge fired!" said the colonel -triumphantly and gaily. - -"And if he asks about the losses?" - -"A trifle," said the colonel in his bass voice: "two hussars -wounded, and one knocked out," he added, unable to restrain a happy -smile, and pronouncing the phrase "knocked out" with ringing -distinctness. - -CHAPTER IX - -Pursued by the French army of a hundred thousand men under the -command of Bonaparte, encountering a population that was unfriendly to -it, losing confidence in its allies, suffering from shortness of -supplies, and compelled to act under conditions of war unlike anything -that had been foreseen, the Russian army of thirty-five thousand men -commanded by Kutuzov was hurriedly retreating along the Danube, -stopping where overtaken by the enemy and fighting rearguard actions -only as far as necessary to enable it to retreat without losing its -heavy equipment. There had been actions at Lambach, Amstetten, and -Melk; but despite the courage and endurance- acknowledged even by -the enemy- with which the Russians fought, the only consequence of -these actions was a yet more rapid retreat. Austrian troops that had -escaped capture at Ulm and had joined Kutuzov at Braunau now separated -from the Russian army, and Kutuzov was left with only his own weak and -exhausted forces. The defense of Vienna was no longer to be thought -of. Instead of an offensive, the plan of which, carefully prepared -in accord with the modern science of strategics, had been handed to -Kutuzov when he was in Vienna by the Austrian Hofkriegsrath, the -sole and almost unattainable aim remaining for him was to effect a -junction with the forces that were advancing from Russia, without -losing his army as Mack had done at Ulm. - -On the twenty-eighth of October Kutuzov with his army crossed to the -left bank of the Danube and took up a position for the first time with -the river between himself and the main body of the French. On the -thirtieth he attacked Mortier's division, which was on the left -bank, and broke it up. In this action for the first time trophies were -taken: banners, cannon, and two enemy generals. For the first time, -after a fortnight's retreat, the Russian troops had halted and after a -fight had not only held the field but had repulsed the French. -Though the troops were ill-clad, exhausted, and had lost a third of -their number in killed, wounded, sick, and stragglers; though a number -of sick and wounded had been abandoned on the other side of the Danube -with a letter in which Kutuzov entrusted them to the humanity of the -enemy; and though the big hospitals and the houses in Krems -converted into military hospitals could no longer accommodate all -the sick and wounded, yet the stand made at Krems and the victory over -Mortier raised the spirits of the army considerably. Throughout the -whole army and at headquarters most joyful though erroneous rumors -were rife of the imaginary approach of columns from Russia, of some -victory gained by the Austrians, and of the retreat of the -frightened Bonaparte. - -Prince Andrew during the battle had been in attendance on the -Austrian General Schmidt, who was killed in the action. His horse -had been wounded under him and his own arm slightly grazed by a -bullet. As a mark of the commander in chief's special favor he was -sent with the news of this victory to the Austrian court, now no -longer at Vienna (which was threatened by the French) but at Brunn. -Despite his apparently delicate build Prince Andrew could endure -physical fatigue far better than many very muscular men, and on the -night of the battle, having arrived at Krems excited but not weary, -with dispatches from Dokhturov to Kutuzov, he was sent immediately -with a special dispatch to Brunn. To be so sent meant not only a -reward but an important step toward promotion. - -The night was dark but starry, the road showed black in the snow -that had fallen the previous day- the day of the battle. Reviewing his -impressions of the recent battle, picturing pleasantly to himself -the impression his news of a victory would create, or recalling the -send-off given him by the commander in chief and his fellow -officers, Prince Andrew was galloping along in a post chaise -enjoying the feelings of a man who has at length begun to attain a -long-desired happiness. As soon as he closed his eyes his ears -seemed filled with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of -victory. Then he began to imagine that the Russians were running -away and that he himself was killed, but he quickly roused himself -with a feeling of joy, as if learning afresh that this was not so -but that on the contrary the French had run away. He again recalled -all the details of the victory and his own calm courage during the -battle, and feeling reassured he dozed off.... The dark starry night -was followed by a bright cheerful morning. The snow was thawing in the -sunshine, the horses galloped quickly, and on both sides of the road -were forests of different kinds, fields, and villages. - -At one of the post stations he overtook a convoy of Russian wounded. -The Russian officer in charge of the transport lolled back in the -front cart, shouting and scolding a soldier with coarse abuse. In each -of the long German carts six or more pale, dirty, bandaged men were -being jolted over the stony road. Some of them were talking (he -heard Russian words), others were eating bread; the more severely -wounded looked silently, with the languid interest of sick children, -at the envoy hurrying past them. - -Prince Andrew told his driver to stop, and asked a soldier in what -action they had been wounded. "Day before yesterday, on the Danube," -answered the soldier. Prince Andrew took out his purse and gave the -soldier three gold pieces. - -"That's for them all," he said to the officer who came up. - -"Get well soon, lads!" he continued, turning to the soldiers. -"There's plenty to do still." - -"What news, sir?" asked the officer, evidently anxious to start a -conversation. - -"Good news!... Go on!" he shouted to the driver, and they galloped -on. - -It was already quite dark when Prince Andrew rattled over the -paved streets of Brunn and found himself surrounded by high buildings, -the lights of shops, houses, and street lamps, fine carriages, and all -that atmosphere of a large and active town which is always so -attractive to a soldier after camp life. Despite his rapid journey and -sleepless night, Prince Andrew when he drove up to the palace felt -even more vigorous and alert than he had done the day before. Only his -eyes gleamed feverishly and his thoughts followed one another with -extraordinary clearness and rapidity. He again vividly recalled the -details of the battle, no longer dim, but definite and in the -concise form concise form in which he imagined himself stating them to -the Emperor Francis. He vividly imagined the casual questions that -might be put to him and the answers he would give. He expected to be -at once presented to the Emperor. At the chief entrance to the palace, -however, an official came running out to meet him, and learning that -he was a special messenger led him to another entrance. - -"To the right from the corridor, Euer Hochgeboren! There you will -find the adjutant on duty," said the official. "He will conduct you to -the Minister of War." - -The adjutant on duty, meeting Prince Andrew, asked him to wait, -and went in to the Minister of War. Five minutes later he returned and -bowing with particular courtesy ushered Prince Andrew before him along -a corridor to the cabinet where the Minister of War was at work. The -adjutant by his elaborate courtesy appeared to wish to ward off any -attempt at familiarity on the part of the Russian messenger. - -Prince Andrew's joyous feeling was considerably weakened as he -approached the door of the minister's room. He felt offended, and -without his noticing it the feeling of offense immediately turned into -one of disdain which was quite uncalled for. His fertile mind -instantly suggested to him a point of view which gave him a right to -despise the adjutant and the minister. "Away from the smell of powder, -they probably think it easy to gain victories!" he thought. His eyes -narrowed disdainfully, he entered the room of the Minister of War with -peculiarly deliberate steps. This feeling of disdain was heightened -when he saw the minister seated at a large table reading some papers -and making pencil notes on them, and for the first two or three -minutes taking no notice of his arrival. A wax candle stood at each -side of the minister's bent bald head with its gray temples. He went -on reading to the end, without raising his eyes at the opening of -the door and the sound of footsteps. - -"Take this and deliver it," said he to his adjutant, handing him the -papers and still taking no notice of the special messenger. - -Prince Andrew felt that either the actions of Kutuzov's army -interested the Minister of War less than any of the other matters he -was concerned with, or he wanted to give the Russian special messenger -that impression. "But that is a matter of perfect indifference to me," -he thought. The minister drew the remaining papers together, -arranged them evenly, and then raised his head. He had an intellectual -and distinctive head, but the instant he turned to Prince Andrew the -firm, intelligent expression on his face changed in a way evidently -deliberate and habitual to him. His face took on the stupid artificial -smile (which does not even attempt to hide its artificiality) of a man -who is continually receiving many petitioners one after another. - -"From General Field Marshal Kutuzov?" he asked. "I hope it is good -news? There has been an encounter with Mortier? A victory? It was high -time!" - -He took the dispatch which was addressed to him and began to read it -with a mournful expression. - -"Oh, my God! My God! Schmidt!" he exclaimed in German. "What a -calamity! What a calamity!" - -Having glanced through the dispatch he laid it on the table and -looked at Prince Andrew, evidently considering something. - -"Ah what a calamity! You say the affair was decisive? But Mortier is -not captured." Again he pondered. "I am very glad you have brought -good news, though Schmidt's death is a heavy price to pay for the -victory. His Majesty will no doubt wish to see you, but not today. I -thank you! You must have a rest. Be at the levee tomorrow after the -parade. However, I will let you know." - -The stupid smile, which had left his face while he was speaking, -reappeared. - -"Au revoir! Thank you very much. His Majesty will probably desire to -see you," he added, bowing his head. - -When Prince Andrew left the palace he felt that all the interest and -happiness the victory had afforded him had been now left in the -indifferent hands of the Minister of War and the polite adjutant. -The whole tenor of his thoughts instantaneously changed; the battle -seemed the memory of a remote event long past. - -CHAPTER X - -Prince Andrew stayed at Brunn with Bilibin, a Russian acquaintance -of his in the diplomatic service. - -"Ah, my dear prince! I could not have a more welcome visitor," -said Bilibin as he came out to meet Prince Andrew. "Franz, put the -prince's things in my bedroom," said he to the servant who was -ushering Bolkonski in. "So you're a messenger of victory, eh? -Splendid! And I am sitting here ill, as you see." - -After washing and dressing, Prince Andrew came into the diplomat's -luxurious study and sat down to the dinner prepared for him. Bilibin -settled down comfortably beside the fire. - -After his journey and the campaign during which he had been deprived -of all the comforts of cleanliness and all the refinements of life, -Prince Andrew felt a pleasant sense of repose among luxurious -surroundings such as he had been accustomed to from childhood. Besides -it was pleasant, after his reception by the Austrians, to speak if not -in Russian (for they were speaking French) at least with a Russian who -would, he supposed, share the general Russian antipathy to the -Austrians which was then particularly strong. - -Bilibin was a man of thirty-five, a bachelor, and of the same circle -as Prince Andrew. They had known each other previously in -Petersburg, but had become more intimate when Prince Andrew was in -Vienna with Kutuzov. Just as Prince Andrew was a young man who gave -promise of rising high in the military profession, so to an even -greater extent Bilibin gave promise of rising in his diplomatic -career. He still a young man but no longer a young diplomat, as he had -entered the service at the age of sixteen, had been in Paris and -Copenhagen, and now held a rather important post in Vienna. Both the -foreign minister and our ambassador in Vienna knew him and valued him. -He was not one of those many diplomats who are esteemed because they -have certain negative qualities, avoid doing certain things, and speak -French. He was one of those, who, liking work, knew how to do it, -and despite his indolence would sometimes spend a whole night at his -writing table. He worked well whatever the import of his work. It -was not the question "What for?" but the question "How?" that -interested him. What the diplomatic matter might be he did not care, -but it gave him great pleasure to prepare a circular, memorandum, or -report, skillfully, pointedly, and elegantly. Bilibin's services -were valued not only for what he wrote, but also for his skill in -dealing and conversing with those in the highest spheres. - -Bilibin liked conversation as he liked work, only when it could be -made elegantly witty. In society he always awaited an opportunity to -say something striking and took part in a conversation only when -that was possible. His conversation was always sprinkled with -wittily original, finished phrases of general interest. These -sayings were prepared in the inner laboratory of his mind in a -portable form as if intentionally, so that insignificant society -people might carry them from drawing room to drawing room. And, in -fact, Bilibin's witticisms were hawked about in the Viennese drawing -rooms and often had an influence on matters considered important. - -His thin, worn, sallow face was covered with deep wrinkles, which -always looked as clean and well washed as the tips of one's fingers -after a Russian bath. The movement of these wrinkles formed the -principal play of expression on his face. Now his forehead would -pucker into deep folds and his eyebrows were lifted, then his eyebrows -would descend and deep wrinkles would crease his cheeks. His small, -deep-set eyes always twinkled and looked out straight. - -"Well, now tell me about your exploits," said he. - -Bolkonski, very modestly without once mentioning himself, -described the engagement and his reception by the Minister of War. - -"They received me and my news as one receives a dog in a game of -skittles," said he in conclusion. - -Bilibin smiled and the wrinkles on his face disappeared. - -"Cependant, mon cher," he remarked, examining his nails from a -distance and puckering the skin above his left eye, "malgre la haute -estime que je professe pour the Orthodox Russian army, j'avoue que -votre victoire n'est pas des plus victorieuses."~{ "But my dear fellow, with all my respect for the Orthodox Russian -army, I must say that your victory was not particularly victorious." }~ - -He went on talking in this way in French, uttering only those -words in Russian on which he wished to put a contemptuous emphasis. - -"Come now! You with all your forces fall on the unfortunate -Mortier and his one division, and even then Mortier slips through your -fingers! Where's the victory?" - -"But seriously," said Prince Andrew, "we can at any rate say without -boasting that it was a little better than at Ulm..." - -"Why didn't you capture one, just one, marshal for us?" - -"Because not everything happens as one expects or with the -smoothness of a parade. We had expected, as I told you, to get at -their rear by seven in the morning but had not reached it by five in -the afternoon." - -"And why didn't you do it at seven in the morning? You ought to have -been there at seven in the morning," returned Bilibin with a smile. -"You ought to have been there at seven in the morning." - -"Why did you not succeed in impressing on Bonaparte by diplomatic -methods that he had better leave Genoa alone?" retorted Prince -Andrew in the same tone. - -"I know," interrupted Bilibin, "you're thinking it's very easy to -take marshals, sitting on a sofa by the fire! That is true, but -still why didn't you capture him? So don't be surprised if not only -the Minister of War but also his Most August Majesty the Emperor and -King Francis is not much delighted by your victory. Even I, a poor -secretary of the Russian Embassy, do not feel any need in token of -my joy to give my Franz a thaler, or let him go with his Liebchen to -the Prater... True, we have no Prater here..." - -He looked straight at Prince Andrew and suddenly unwrinkled his -forehead. - -"It is now my turn to ask you 'why?' mon cher," said Bolkonski. "I -confess I do not understand: perhaps there are diplomatic subtleties -here beyond my feeble intelligence, but I can't make it out. Mack -loses a whole army, the Archduke Ferdinand and the Archduke Karl -give no signs of life and make blunder after blunder. Kutuzov alone at -last gains a real victory, destroying the spell of the invincibility -of the French, and the Minister of War does not even care to hear -the details." - -"That's just it, my dear fellow. You see it's hurrah for the Tsar, -for Russia, for the Orthodox Greek faith! All that is beautiful, but -what do we, I mean the Austrian court, care for your victories? -Bring us nice news of a victory by the Archduke Karl or Ferdinand (one -archduke's as good as another, as you know) and even if it is only -over a fire brigade of Bonaparte's, that will be another story and -we'll fire off some cannon! But this sort of thing seems done on -purpose to vex us. The Archduke Karl does nothing, the Archduke -Ferdinand disgraces himself. You abandon Vienna, give up its -defense- as much as to say: 'Heaven is with us, but heaven help you -and your capital!' The one general whom we all loved, Schmidt, you -expose to a bullet, and then you congratulate us on the victory! Admit -that more irritating news than yours could not have been conceived. -It's as if it had been done on purpose, on purpose. Besides, suppose -you did gain a brilliant victory, if even the Archduke Karl gained a -victory, what effect would that have on the general course of -events? It's too late now when Vienna is occupied by the French army!" - -"What? Occupied? Vienna occupied?" - -"Not only occupied, but Bonaparte is at Schonbrunn, and the count, -our dear Count Vrbna, goes to him for orders." - -After the fatigues and impressions of the journey, his reception, -and especially after having dined, Bolkonski felt that he could not -take in the full significance of the words he heard. - -"Count Lichtenfels was here this morning," Bilibin continued, "and -showed me a letter in which the parade of the French in Vienna was -fully described: Prince Murat et tout le tremblement... You see that -your victory is not a matter for great rejoicing and that you can't be -received as a savior." - -"Really I don't care about that, I don't care at all," said Prince -Andrew, beginning to understand that his news of the battle before -Krems was really of small importance in view of such events as the -fall of Austria's capital. "How is it Vienna was taken? What of the -bridge and its celebrated bridgehead and Prince Auersperg? We heard -reports that Prince Auersperg was defending Vienna?" he said. - -"Prince Auersperg is on this, on our side of the river, and is -defending us- doing it very badly, I think, but still he is -defending us. But Vienna is on the other side. No, the bridge has -not yet been taken and I hope it will not be, for it is mined and -orders have been given to blow it up. Otherwise we should long ago -have been in the mountains of Bohemia, and you and your army would -have spent a bad quarter of an hour between two fires." - -"But still this does not mean that the campaign is over," said -Prince Andrew. - -"Well, I think it is. The bigwigs here think so too, but they -daren't say so. It will be as I said at the beginning of the campaign, -it won't be your skirmishing at Durrenstein, or gunpowder at all, that -will decide the matter, but those who devised it," said Bilibin -quoting one of his own mots, releasing the wrinkles on his forehead, -and pausing. "The only question is what will come of the meeting -between the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia in Berlin? If -Prussia joins the Allies, Austria's hand will be forced and there will -be war. If not it is merely a question of settling where the -preliminaries of the new Campo Formio are to be drawn up." - -"What an extraordinary genius!" Prince Andrew suddenly exclaimed, -clenching his small hand and striking the table with it, "and what -luck the man has!" - -"Buonaparte?" said Bilibin inquiringly, puckering up his forehead to -indicate that he was about to say something witty. "Buonaparte?" he -repeated, accentuating the u: "I think, however, now that he lays down -laws for Austria at Schonbrunn, il faut lui faire grace de l'u!~{ "We must let him off the u!" }~ I -shall certainly adopt an innovation and call him simply Bonaparte!" - -"But joking apart," said Prince Andrew, "do you really think the -campaign is over?" - -"This is what I think. Austria has been made a fool of, and she is -not used to it. She will retaliate. And she has been fooled in the -first place because her provinces have been pillaged- they say the -Holy Russian army loots terribly- her army is destroyed, her capital -taken, and all this for the beaux yeux~{ Fine eyes. }~ of His Sardinian Majesty. -And therefore- this is between ourselves- I instinctively feel that we -are being deceived, my instinct tells me of negotiations with France -and projects for peace, a secret peace concluded separately." - -"Impossible!" cried Prince Andrew. "That would be too base." - -"If we live we shall see," replied Bilibin, his face again -becoming smooth as a sign that the conversation was at an end. - -When Prince Andrew reached the room prepared for him and lay down in -a clean shirt on the feather bed with its warmed and fragrant pillows, -he felt that the battle of which he had brought tidings was far, far -away from him. The alliance with Prussia, Austria's treachery, -Bonaparte's new triumph, tomorrow's levee and parade, and the audience -with the Emperor Francis occupied his thoughts. - -He closed his eyes, and immediately a sound of cannonading, of -musketry and the rattling of carriage wheels seemed to fill his -ears, and now again drawn out in a thin line the musketeers were -descending the hill, the French were firing, and he felt his heart -palpitating as he rode forward beside Schmidt with the bullets merrily -whistling all around, and he experienced tenfold the joy of living, as -he had not done since childhood. - -He woke up... - -"Yes, that all happened!" he said, and, smiling happily to himself -like a child, he fell into a deep, youthful slumber. - -CHAPTER XI - -Next day he woke late. Recalling his recent impressions, the first -thought that came into his mind was that today he had to be -presented to the Emperor Francis; he remembered the Minister of War, - -the polite Austrian adjutant, Bilibin, and last night's -conversation. Having dressed for his attendance at court in full -parade uniform, which he had not worn for a long time, he went into -Bilibin's study fresh, animated, and handsome, with his hand bandaged. -In the study were four gentlemen of the diplomatic corps. With -Prince Hippolyte Kuragin, who was a secretary to the embassy, -Bolkonski was already acquainted. Bilibin introduced him to the -others. - -The gentlemen assembled at Bilibin's were young, wealthy, gay -society men, who here, as in Vienna, formed a special set which -Bilibin, their leader, called les notres.~{ Ours. }~ This set, consisting almost -exclusively of diplomats, evidently had its own interests which had -nothing to do with war or politics but related to high society, to -certain women, and to the official side of the service. These -gentlemen received Prince Andrew as one of themselves, an honor they -did not extend to many. From politeness and to start conversation, -they asked him a few questions about the army and the battle, and then -the talk went off into merry jests and gossip. - -"But the best of it was," said one, telling of the misfortune of a -fellow diplomat, "that the Chancellor told him flatly that his -appointment to London was a promotion and that he was so to regard it. -Can you fancy the figure he cut?..." - -"But the worst of it, gentlemen- I am giving Kuragin away to you- is -that that man suffers, and this Don Juan, wicked fellow, is taking -advantage of it!" - -Prince Hippolyte was lolling in a lounge chair with his legs over -its arm. He began to laugh. - -"Tell me about that!" he said. - -"Oh, you Don Juan! You serpent!" cried several voices. - -"You, Bolkonski, don't know," said Bilibin turning to Prince Andrew, -"that all the atrocities of the French army (I nearly said of the -Russian army) are nothing compared to what this man has been doing -among the women!" - -"La femme est la compagne de l'homme,"~{ "Woman is man's companion." }~ announced Prince -Hippolyte, and began looking through a lorgnette at his elevated legs. - -Bilibin and the rest of "ours" burst out laughing in Hippolyte's -face, and Prince Andrew saw that Hippolyte, of whom- he had to -admit- he had almost been jealous on his wife's account, was the -butt of this set. - -"Oh, I must give you a treat," Bilibin whispered to Bolkonski. -"Kuragin is exquisite when he discusses politics- you should see his -gravity!" - -He sat down beside Hippolyte and wrinkling his forehead began -talking to him about politics. Prince Andrew and the others gathered -round these two. - -"The Berlin cabinet cannot express a feeling of alliance," began -Hippolyte gazing round with importance at the others, "without -expressing... as in its last note... you understand... Besides, unless -His Majesty the Emperor derogates from the principle of our -alliance... - -"Wait, I have not finished..." he said to Prince Andrew, seizing him -by the arm, "I believe that intervention will be stronger than -nonintervention. And..." he paused. "Finally one cannot impute the -nonreceipt of our dispatch of November 18. That is how it will end." -And he released Bolkonski's arm to indicate that he had now quite -finished. - -"Demosthenes, I know thee by the pebble thou secretest in thy golden -mouth!" said Bilibin, and the mop of hair on his head moved with -satisfaction. - -Everybody laughed, and Hippolyte louder than anyone. He was -evidently distressed, and breathed painfully, but could not restrain -the wild laughter that convulsed his usually impassive features. - -"Well now, gentlemen," said Bilibin, "Bolkonski is my guest in -this house and in Brunn itself. I want to entertain him as far as I -can, with all the pleasures of life here. If we were in Vienna it -would be easy, but here, in this wretched Moravian hole, it is more -difficult, and I beg you all to help me. Brunn's attractions must be -shown him. You can undertake the theater, I society, and you, -Hippolyte, of course the women." - -"We must let him see Amelie, she's exquisite!" said one of "ours," -kissing his finger tips. - -"In general we must turn this bloodthirsty soldier to more humane -interests," said Bilibin. - -"I shall scarcely be able to avail myself of your hospitality, -gentlemen, it is already time for me to go," replied Prince Andrew -looking at his watch. - -"Where to?" - -"To the Emperor." - -"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Well, au revoir, Bolkonski! Au revoir, Prince! Come -back early to dinner," cried several voices. "We'll take you in hand." - -"When speaking to the Emperor, try as far as you can to praise the -way that provisions are supplied and the routes indicated," said -Bilibin, accompanying him to the hall. - -"I should like to speak well of them, but as far as I the facts, I -can't," replied Bolkonski, smiling. - -"Well, talk as much as you can, anyway. He has a passion for -giving audiences, but he does not like talking himself and can't do -it, as you will see." - -CHAPTER XII - -At the levee Prince Andrew stood among the Austrian officers as he -had been told to, and the Emperor Francis merely looked fixedly into -his face and just nodded to him with to him with his long head. But -after it was over, the adjutant he had seen the previous day -ceremoniously informed Bolkonski that the Emperor desired to give -him an audience. The Emperor Francis received him standing in the -middle of the room. Before the conversation began Prince Andrew was -struck by the fact that the Emperor seemed confused and blushed as -if not knowing what to say. - -"Tell me, when did the battle begin?" he asked hurriedly. - -Prince Andrew replied. Then followed other questions just as simple: -"Was Kutuzov well? When had he left Krems?" and so on. The Emperor -spoke as if his sole aim were to put a given number of questions- -the answers to these questions, as was only too evident, did not -interest him. - -"At what o'clock did the battle begin?" asked the Emperor. - -"I cannot inform Your Majesty at what o'clock the battle began at -the front, but at Durrenstein, where I was, our attack began after -five in the afternoon," replied Bolkonski growing more animated and -expecting that he would have a chance to give a reliable account, -which he had ready in his mind, of all he knew and had seen. But the -Emperor smiled and interrupted him. - -"How many miles?" - -"From where to where, Your Majesty?" - -"From Durrenstein to Krems." - -"Three and a half miles, Your Majesty." - -"The French have abandoned the left bank?" - -"According to the scouts the last of them crossed on rafts during -the night." - -"Is there sufficient forage in Krems?" - -"Forage has not been supplied to the extent..." - -The Emperor interrupted him. - -"At what o'clock was General Schmidt killed?" - -"At seven o'clock, I believe." - -"At seven o'clock? It's very sad, very sad!" - -The Emperor thanked Prince Andrew and bowed. Prince Andrew -withdrew and was immediately surrounded by courtiers on all sides. -Everywhere he saw friendly looks and heard friendly words. Yesterday's -adjutant reproached him for not having stayed at the palace, and -offered him his own house. The Minister of War came up and -congratulated him on the Maria Theresa Order of the third grade, which -the Emperor was conferring on him. The Empress' chamberlain invited -him to see Her Majesty. The archduchess also wished to see him. He did -not know whom to answer, and for a few seconds collected his thoughts. -Then the Russian ambassador took him by the shoulder, led him to the -window, and began to talk to him. - -Contrary to Bilibin's forecast the news he had brought was -joyfully received. A thanksgiving service was arranged, Kutuzov was -awarded the Grand Cross of Maria Theresa, and the whole army -received rewards. Bolkonski was invited everywhere, and had to spend -the whole morning calling on the principal Austrian dignitaries. -Between four and five in the afternoon, having made all his calls, -he was returning to Bilibin's house thinking out a letter to his -father about the battle and his visit to Brunn. At the door he found a -vehicle half full of luggage. Franz, Bilibin's man, was dragging a -portmanteau with some difficulty out of the front door. - -Before returning to Bilibin's Prince Andrew had gone to bookshop -to provide himself with some books for the campaign, and had spent -some time in the shop. - -"What is it?" he asked. - -"Oh, your excellency!" said Franz, with difficulty rolling the -portmanteau into the vehicle, "we are to move on still farther. The -scoundrel is again at our heels!" - -"Eh? What?" asked Prince Andrew. - -Bilibin came out to meet him. His usually calm face showed -excitement. - -"There now! Confess that this is delightful," said he. "This -affair of the Thabor Bridge, at Vienna.... They have crossed without -striking a blow!" - -Prince Andrew could not understand. - -"But where do you come from not to know what every coachman in the -town knows?" - -"I come from the archduchess'. I heard nothing there." - -"And you didn't see that everybody is packing up?" - -"I did not... What is it all about?" inquired Prince Andrew -impatiently. - -"What's it all about? Why, the French have crossed the bridge that -Auersperg was defending, and the bridge was not blown up: so Murat -is now rushing along the road to Brunn and will be here in a day or -two." - -"What? Here? But why did they not blow up the bridge, if it was -mined?" - -"That is what I ask you. No one, not even Bonaparte, knows why." - -Bolkonski shrugged his shoulders. - -"But if the bridge is crossed it means that the army too is lost? It -will be cut off," said he. - -"That's just it," answered Bilibin. "Listen! The French entered -Vienna as I told you. Very well. Next day, which was yesterday, -those gentlemen, messieurs les marechaux,~{ The marshalls. }~ Murat, Lannes,and Belliard, -mount and ride to bridge. (Observe that all three are Gascons.) -'Gentlemen,' says one of them, 'you know the Thabor Bridge is mined -and doubly mined and that there are menacing fortifications at its -head and an army of fifteen thousand men has been ordered to blow up -the bridge and not let us cross? But it will please our sovereign -the Emperor Napoleon if we take this bridge, so let us three go and -take it!' 'Yes, let's!' say the others. And off they go and take the -bridge, cross it, and now with their whole army are on this side of -the Danube, marching on us, you, and your lines of communication." - -"Stop jesting," said Prince Andrew sadly and seriously. This news -grieved him and yet he was pleased. - -As soon as he learned that the Russian army was in such a hopeless -situation it occurred to him that it was he who was destined to lead -it out of this position; that here was the Toulon that would lift -him from the ranks of obscure officers and offer him the first step to -fame! Listening to Bilibin he was already imagining how on reaching -the army he would give an opinion at the war council which would be -the only one that could save the army, and how he alone would be -entrusted with the executing of the plan. - -"Stop this jesting," he said - -"I am not jesting," Bilibin went on. "Nothing is truer or sadder. -These gentlemen ride onto the bridge alone and wave white -handkerchiefs; they assure the officer on duty that they, the -marshals, are on their way to negotiate with Prince Auersperg. He lets -them enter the tete-de-pont.~{ Bridgehead. }~ They spin him a thousand gasconades, -saying that the war is over, that the Emperor Francis is arranging a -meeting with Bonaparte, that they desire to see Prince Auersperg, -and so on. The officer sends for Auersperg; these gentlemen embrace -the officers, crack jokes, sit on the cannon, and meanwhile a French -battalion gets to the bridge unobserved, flings the bags of incendiary -material into the water, and approaches the tete-de-pont. At length -appears the lieutenant general, our dear Prince Auersperg von -Mautern himself. 'Dearest foe! Flower of the Austrian army, hero of -the Turkish wars Hostilities are ended, we can shake one another's -hand.... The Emperor Napoleon burns with impatience to make Prince -Auersperg's acquaintance.' In a word, those gentlemen, Gascons indeed, -so bewildered him with fine words, and he is so flattered by his -rapidly established intimacy with the French marshals, and so -dazzled by the sight of Murat's mantle and ostrich plumes, qu'il n'y -voit que du feu, et oublie celui qu'il devait faire faire sur -l'ennemi!"~{ That their fire gets into his eyes and he forgets that he ought -to be firing at the enemy. }~ In spite of the animation of his speech, Bilibin did -not forget to pause after this mot to give time for its due -appreciation. "The French battalion rushes to the bridgehead, spikes -the guns, and the bridge is taken! But what is best of all," he went -on, his excitement subsiding under the delightful interest of his -own story, "is that the sergeant in charge of the cannon which was -to give the signal to fire the mines and blow up the bridge, this -sergeant, seeing that the French troops were running onto the -bridge, was about to fire, but Lannes stayed his hand. The sergeant, -who was evidently wiser than his general, goes up to Auersperg and -says: 'Prince, you are being deceived, here are the French!' Murat, -seeing that all is lost if the sergeant is allowed to speak, turns -to Auersperg with feigned astonishment (he is a true Gascon) and says: -'I don't recognize the world-famous Austrian discipline, if you -allow a subordinate to address you like that!' It was a stroke of -genius. Prince Auersperg feels his dignity at stake and orders the -sergeant to be arrested. Come, you must own that this affair of the -Thabor Bridge is delightful! It is not exactly stupidity, nor -rascality...." - -"It may be treachery," said Prince Andrew, vividly imagining the -gray overcoats, wounds, the smoke of gunpowder, the sounds of -firing, and the glory that awaited him. - -"Not that either. That puts the court in too bad a light," replied -Bilibin."It's not treachery nor rascality nor stupidity: it is just as -at Ulm... it is..."- he seemed to be trying to find the right -expression. "C'est... c'est du Mack. Nous sommes mackes [It is... it -is a bit of Mack. We are Macked]," he concluded, feeling that he had -produced a good epigram, a fresh one that would be repeated. His -hitherto puckered brow became smooth as a sign of pleasure, and with a -slight smile he began to examine his nails. - -"Where are you off to?" he said suddenly to Prince Andrew who had -risen and was going toward his room. - -"I am going away." - -"Where to?" - -"To the army." - -"But you meant to stay another two days?" - -"But now I am off at once." - -And Prince Andrew after giving directions about his departure went -to his room. - -"Do you know, mon cher," said Bilibin following him, "I have been -thinking about you. Why are you going?" - -And in proof of the conclusiveness of his opinion all the wrinkles -vanished from his face. - -Prince Andrew looked inquiringly at him and gave no reply. - -"Why are you going? I know you think it your duty to gallop back -to the army now that it is in danger. I understand that. Mon cher, -it is heroism!" - -"Not at all," said Prince Andrew. - -"But as you are a philosopher, be a consistent one, look at the -other side of the question and you will see that your duty, on the -contrary, is to take care of yourself. Leave it to those who are no -longer fit for anything else.... You have not been ordered to return -and have not been dismissed from here; therefore, you can stay and -go with us wherever our ill luck takes us. They say we are going to -Olmutz, and Olmutz is a very decent town. You and I will travel -comfortably in my caleche." - -"Do stop joking, Bilibin," cried Bolkonski. - -"I am speaking sincerely as a friend! Consider! Where and why are -you going, when you might remain here? You are faced by one of two -things," and the skin over his left temple puckered, "either you -will not reach your regiment before peace is concluded, or you will -share defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov's whole army." - -And Bilibin unwrinkled his temple, feeling that the dilemma was -insoluble. - -"I cannot argue about it," replied Prince Andrew coldly, but he -thought: "I am going to save the army." - -"My dear fellow, you are a hero!" said Bilibin. - -CHAPTER XIII - -That same night, having taken leave of the Minister of War, -Bolkonski set off to rejoin the army, not knowing where he would -find it and fearing to be captured by the French on the way to Krems. - -In Brunn everybody attached to the court was packing up, and the -heavy baggage was already being dispatched to Olmutz. Near Hetzelsdorf -Prince Andrew struck the high road along which the Russian army was -moving with great haste and in the greatest disorder. The road was -so obstructed with carts that it was impossible to get by in a -carriage. Prince Andrew took a horse and a Cossack from a Cossack -commander, and hungry and weary, making his way past the baggage -wagons, rode in search of the commander in chief and of his own -luggage. Very sinister reports of the position of the army reached him -as he went along, and the appearance of the troops in their disorderly -flight confirmed these rumors. - -"Cette armee russe que l'or de l'Angleterre a transportee des -extremites de l'univers, nous allons lui faire eprouver le meme -sort- (le sort de l'armee d'Ulm)."~{ "That Russian army which has been brought from the ends of the -earth by English gold, we shall cause to share the same fate- (the -fate of the army at Ulm)." }~ He remembered these words in -Bonaparte's address to his army at the beginning of the campaign, -and they awoke in him astonishment at the genius of his hero, a -feeling of wounded pride, and a hope of glory. "And should there be -nothing left but to die?" he thought. "Well, if need be, I shall do it -no worse than others." - -He looked with disdain at the endless confused mass of -detachments, carts, guns, artillery, and again baggage wagons and -vehicles of all kinds overtaking one another and blocking the muddy -road, three and sometimes four abreast. From all sides, behind and -before, as far as ear could reach, there were the rattle of wheels, -the creaking of carts and gun carriages, the tramp of horses, the -crack of whips, shouts, the urging of horses, and the swearing of -soldiers, orderlies, and officers. All along the sides of the road -fallen horses were to be seen, some flayed, some not, and -broken-down carts beside which solitary soldiers sat waiting for -something, and again soldiers straggling from their companies, -crowds of whom set off to the neighboring villages, or returned from -them dragging sheep, fowls, hay, and bulging sacks. At each ascent -or descent of the road the crowds were yet denser and the din of -shouting more incessant. Soldiers floundering knee-deep in mud -pushed the guns and wagons themselves. Whips cracked, hoofs slipped, -traces broke, and lungs were strained with shouting. The officers -directing the march rode backward and forward between the carts. Their -voices were but feebly heard amid the uproar and one saw by their -faces that they despaired of the possibility of checking this -disorder. - -"Here is our dear Orthodox Russian army," thought Bolkonski, -recalling Bilibin's words. - -Wishing to find out where the commander in chief was, he rode up -to a convoy. Directly opposite to him came a strange one-horse -vehicle, evidently rigged up by soldiers out of any available -materials and looking like something between a cart, a cabriolet, -and a caleche. A soldier was driving, and a woman enveloped in -shawls sat behind the apron under the leather hood of the vehicle. -Prince Andrew rode up and was just putting his question to a soldier -when his attention was diverted by the desperate shrieks of the -woman in the vehicle. An officer in charge of transport was beating -the soldier who was driving the woman's vehicle for trying to get -ahead of others, and the strokes of his whip fell on the apron of -the equipage. The woman screamed piercingly. Seeing Prince Andrew -she leaned out from behind the apron and, waving her thin arms from -under the woolen shawl, cried: - -"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Mr. Aide-de-camp!... For heaven's sake... Protect -me! What will become of us? I am the wife of the doctor of the Seventh -Chasseurs.... They won't let us pass, we are left behind and have lost -our people..." - -"I'll flatten you into a pancake!" shouted the angry officer to -the soldier. "Turn back with your slut!" - -"Mr. Aide-de-camp! Help me!... What does it all mean?" screamed -the doctor's wife. - -"Kindly let this cart pass. Don't you see it's a woman?" said Prince -Andrew riding up to the officer. - -The officer glanced at him, and without replying turned again to the -soldier. "I'll teach you to push on!... Back!" - -"Let them pass, I tell you!" repeated Prince Andrew, compressing his -lips. - -"And who are you?" cried the officer, turning on him with tipsy -rage, "who are you? Are you in command here? Eh? I am commander -here, not you! Go back or I'll flatten you into a pancake," repeated -he. This expression evidently pleased him. - -"That was a nice snub for the little aide-de-camp," came a voice -from behind. - -Prince Andrew saw that the officer was in that state of senseless, -tipsy rage when a man does not know what he is saying. He saw that his -championship of the doctor's wife in her queer trap might expose him -to what he dreaded more than anything in the world- to ridicule; but -his instinct urged him on. Before the officer finished his sentence -Prince Andrew, his face distorted with fury, rode up to him and raised -his riding whip. - -"Kind...ly let- them- pass!" - -The officer flourished his arm and hastily rode away. - -"It's all the fault of these fellows on the staff that there's -this disorder," he muttered. "Do as you like." - -Prince Andrew without lifting his eyes rode hastily away from the -doctor's wife, who was calling him her deliverer, and recalling with a -sense of disgust the minutest details of this humiliating scene he -galloped on to the village where he was told that the commander in -chief was. - -On reaching the village he dismounted and went to the nearest house, -intending to rest if but for a moment, eat something, and try to -sort out the stinging and tormenting thoughts that confused his -mind. "This is a mob of scoundrels and not an army," he was thinking -as he went up to the window of the first house, when a familiar -voice called him by name. - -He turned round. Nesvitski's handsome face looked out of the -little window. Nesvitski, moving his moist lips as he chewed -something, and flourishing his arm, called him to enter. - -"Bolkonski! Bolkonski!... Don't you hear? Eh? Come quick..." he -shouted. - -Entering the house, Prince Andrew saw Nesvitski and another adjutant -having something to eat. They hastily turned round to him asking if he -had any news. On their familiar faces he read agitation and alarm. -This was particularly noticeable on Nesvitski's usually laughing -countenance. - -"Where is the commander in chief?" asked Bolkonski. - -"Here, in that house," answered the adjutant. - -"Well, is it true that it's peace and capitulation?" asked -Nesvitski. - -"I was going to ask you. I know nothing except that it was all I -could do to get here." - -"And we, my dear boy! It's terrible! I was wrong to laugh at Mack, -we're getting it still worse," said Nesvitski. "But sit down and -have something to eat." - -"You won't be able to find either your baggage or anything else now, -Prince. And God only knows where your man Peter is," said the other -adjutant. - -"Where are headquarters?" - -"We are to spend the night in Znaim." - -"Well, I have got all I need into packs for two horses," said -Nesvitski. "They've made up splendid packs for me- fit to cross the -Bohemian mountains with. It's a bad lookout, old fellow! But what's -the matter with you? You must be ill to shiver like that," he added, -noticing that Prince Andrew winced as at an electric shock. - -"It's nothing," replied Prince Andrew. - -He had just remembered his recent encounter with the doctor's wife -and the convoy officer. - -"What is the commander in chief doing here?" he asked. - -"I can't make out at all," said Nesvitski. - -"Well, all I can make out is that everything is abominable, -abominable, quite abominable!" said Prince Andrew, and he went off -to the house where the commander in chief was. - -Passing by Kutuzov's carriage and the exhausted saddle horses of his -suite, with their Cossacks who were talking loudly together, Prince -Andrew entered the passage. Kutuzov himself, he was told, was in the -house with Prince Bagration and Weyrother. Weyrother was the -Austrian general who had succeeded Schmidt. In the passage little -Kozlovski was squatting on his heels in front of a clerk. The clerk, -with cuffs turned up, was hastily writing at a tub turned bottom -upwards. Kozlovski's face looked worn- he too had evidently not -slept all night. He glanced at Prince Andrew and did not even nod to -him. - -"Second line... have you written it?" he continued dictating to -the clerk. "The Kiev Grenadiers, Podolian..." - -"One can't write so fast, your honor," said the clerk, glancing -angrily and disrespectfully at Kozlovski. - -Through the door came the sounds of Kutuzov's voice, excited and -dissatisfied, interrupted by another, an unfamiliar voice. From the -sound of these voices, the inattentive way Kozlovski looked at him, -the disrespectful manner of the exhausted clerk, the fact that the -clerk and Kozlovski were squatting on the floor by a tub so near to -the commander in chief, and from the noisy laughter of the Cossacks -holding the horses near the window, Prince Andrew felt that -something important and disastrous was about to happen. - -He turned to Kozlovski with urgent questions. - -"Immediately, Prince," said Kozlovski. "Dispositions for Bagration." - -"What about capitulation?" - -"Nothing of the sort. Orders are issued for a battle." - -Prince Andrew moved toward the door from whence voices were heard. -Just as he was going to open it the sounds ceased, the door opened, -and Kutuzov with his eagle nose and puffy face appeared in the -doorway. Prince Andrew stood right in front of Kutuzov but the -expression of the commander in chief's one sound eye showed him to -be so preoccupied with thoughts and anxieties as to be oblivious of -his presence. He looked straight at his adjutant's face without -recognizing him. - -"Well, have you finished?" said he to Kozlovski. - -"One moment, your excellency." - -Bagration, a gaunt middle-aged man of medium height with a firm, -impassive face of Oriental type, came out after the commander in -chief. - -"I have the honor to present myself," repeated Prince Andrew -rather loudly, handing Kutuzov an envelope. - -Ah, from Vienna? Very good. Later, later!" - -Kutuzov went out into the porch with Bagration. - -"Well, good-by, Prince," said he to Bagration. "My blessing, and may -Christ be with you in your great endeavor!" - -His face suddenly softened and tears came into his eyes. With his -left hand he drew Bagration toward him, and with his right, on which -he wore a ring, he made the sign of the cross over him with a -gesture evidently habitual, offering his puffy cheek, but Bagration -kissed him on the neck instead. - -"Christ be with you!" Kutuzov repeated and went toward his carriage. -"Get in with me," said he to Bolkonski. - -"Your excellency, I should like to be of use here. Allow me to -remain with Prince Bagration's detachment." - -"Get in," said Kutuzov, and noticing that Bolkonski still delayed, -he added: "I need good officers myself, need them myself!" - -They got into the carriage and drove for a few minutes in silence. - -"There is still much, much before us," he said, as if with an old -man's penetration he understood all that was passing in Bolkonski's -mind. "If a tenth part of his detachment returns I shall thank God," -he added as if speaking to himself. - -Prince Andrew glanced at Kutuzov's face only a foot distant from him -and involuntarily noticed the carefully washed seams of the scar -near his temple, where an Ismail bullet had pierced his skull, and the -empty eye socket. "Yes, he has a right to speak so calmly of those -men's death," thought Bolkonski. - -"That is why I beg to be sent to that detachment," he said. - -Kutuzov did not reply. He seemed to have forgotten what he had -been saying, and sat plunged in thought. Five minutes later, gently -swaying on the soft springs of the carriage, he turned to Prince -Andrew. There was not a trace of agitation on his face. With -delicate irony he questioned Prince Andrew about the details of his -interview with the Emperor, about the remarks he had heard at court -concerning the Krems affair, and about some ladies they both knew. - -CHAPTER XIV - -On November 1 Kutuzov had received, through a spy, news that the -army he commanded was in an almost hopeless position. The spy reported -that the French, after crossing the bridge at Vienna, were advancing -in immense force upon Kutuzov's line of communication with the -troops that were arriving from Russia. If Kutuzov decided to remain at -Krems, Napoleon's army of one hundred and fifty thousand men would cut -him off completely and surround his exhausted army of forty -thousand, and he would find himself in the position of Mack at Ulm. If -Kutuzov decided to abandon the road connecting him with the troops -arriving from Russia, he would have to march with no road into unknown -parts of the Bohemian mountains, defending himself against superior -forces of the enemy and abandoning all hope of a junction with -Buxhowden. If Kutuzov decided to retreat along the road from Krems -to Olmutz, to unite with the troops arriving from Russia, he risked -being forestalled on that road by the French who had crossed the -Vienna bridge, and encumbered by his baggage and transport, having -to accept battle on the march against an enemy three times as -strong, who would hem him in from two sides. - -Kutuzov chose this latter course. - -The French, the spy reported, having crossed the Vienna bridge, were -advancing by forced marches toward Znaim, which lay sixty-six miles -off on the line of Kutuzov's retreat. If he reached Znaim before the -French, there would be great hope of saving the army; to let the -French forestall him at Znaim meant the exposure of his whole army -to a disgrace such as that of Ulm, or to utter destruction. But to -forestall the French with his whole army was impossible. The road -for the French from Vienna to Znaim was shorter and better than the -road for the Russians from Krems to Znaim. - -The night he received the news, Kutuzov sent Bagration's vanguard, -four thousand strong, to the right across the hills from the -Krems-Znaim to the Vienna-Znaim road. Bagration was to make this march -without resting, and to halt facing Vienna with Znaim to his rear, and -if he succeeded in forestalling the French he was to delay them as -long as possible. Kutuzov himself with all his transport took the road -to Znaim. - -Marching thirty miles that stormy night across roadless hills, -with his hungry, ill-shod soldiers, and losing a third of his men as -stragglers by the way, Bagration came out on the Vienna-Znaim road -at Hollabrunn a few hours ahead of the French who were approaching -Hollabrunn from Vienna. Kutuzov with his transport had still to -march for some days before he could reach Znaim. Hence Bagration -with his four thousand hungry, exhausted men would have to detain -for days the whole enemy army that came upon him at Hollabrunn, -which was clearly impossible. But a freak of fate made the -impossible possible. The success of the trick that had placed the -Vienna bridge in the hands of the French without a fight led Murat -to try to deceive Kutuzov in a similar way. Meeting Bagration's weak -detachment on the Znaim road he supposed it to be Kutuzov's whole -army. To be able to crush it absolutely he awaited the arrival of -the rest of the troops who were on their way from Vienna, and with -this object offered a three days' truce on condition that both -armies should remain in position without moving. Murat declared that -negotiations for peace were already proceeding, and that he -therefore offered this truce to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Count -Nostitz, the Austrian general occupying the advanced posts, believed -Murat's emissary and retired, leaving Bagration's division exposed. -Another emissary rode to the Russian line to announce the peace -negotiations and to offer the Russian army the three days' truce. -Bagration replied that he was not authorized either to accept or -refuse a truce and sent his adjutant to Kutuzov to report the offer he -had received. - -A truce was Kutuzov's sole chance of gaining time, giving -Bagration's exhausted troops some rest, and letting the transport -and heavy convoys (whose movements were concealed from the French) -advance if but one stage nearer Znaim. The offer of a truce gave the -only, and a quite unexpected, chance of saving the army. On -receiving the news he immediately dispatched Adjutant General -Wintzingerode, who was in attendance on him, to the enemy camp. -Wintzingerode was not merely to agree to the truce but also to offer -terms of capitulation, and meanwhile Kutuzov sent his adjutants back -to hasten to the utmost the movements of the baggage trains of the -entire army along the Krems-Znaim road. Bagration's exhausted and -hungry detachment, which alone covered this movement of the -transport and of the whole army, had to remain stationary in face of -an enemy eight times as strong as itself. - -Kutuzov's expectations that the proposals of capitulation (which -were in no way binding) might give time for part of the transport to -pass, and also that Murat's mistake would very soon be discovered, -proved correct. As soon as Bonaparte (who was at Schonbrunn, sixteen -miles from Hollabrunn) received Murat's dispatch with the proposal -of a truce and a capitulation, he detected a ruse and wrote the -following letter to Murat: - -Schonbrunn, 25th Brumaire, 1805, - -at eight o'clock in the morning - -To PRINCE MURAT, - -I cannot find words to express to you my displeasure. You command -only my advance guard, and have no right to arrange an armistice -without my order. You are causing me to lose the fruits of a campaign. -Break the armistice immediately and march on the enemy. Inform him -that the general who signed that capitulation had no right to do so, -and that no one but the Emperor of Russia has that right. - -If, however, the Emperor of Russia ratifies that convention, I -will ratify it; but it is only a trick. March on, destroy the -Russian army.... You are in a position to seize its baggage and -artillery. - -The Russian Emperor's aide-de-camp is an impostor. Officers are -nothing when they have no powers; this one had none.... The -Austrians let themselves be tricked at the crossing of the Vienna -bridge, you are letting yourself be tricked by an aide-de-camp of -the Emperor. - -NAPOLEON - -Bonaparte's adjutant rode full gallop with this menacing letter to -Murat. Bonaparte himself, not trusting to his generals, moved with all -the Guards to the field of battle, afraid of letting a ready victim -escape, and Bagration's four thousand men merrily lighted campfires, -dried and warmed themselves, cooked their porridge for the first -time for three days, and not one of them knew or imagined what was -in store for him. - -CHAPTER XV - -Between three and four o'clock in the afternoon Prince Andrew, who -had persisted in his request to Kutuzov, arrived at Grunth and -reported himself to Bagration. Bonaparte's adjutant had not yet -reached Murat's detachment and the battle had not yet begun. In -Bagration's detachment no one knew anything of the general position of -affairs. They talked of peace but did not believe in its -possibility; others talked of a battle but also disbelieved in the -nearness of an engagement. Bagration, knowing Bolkonski to be a -favorite and trusted adjutant, received him with distinction and -special marks of favor, explaining to him that there would probably be -an engagement that day or the next, and giving him full liberty to -remain with him during the battle or to join the rearguard and have an -eye on the order of retreat, "which is also very important." - -"However, there will hardly be an engagement today," said -Bagration as if to reassure Prince Andrew. - -"If he is one of the ordinary little staff dandies sent to earn a -medal he can get his reward just as well in the rearguard, but if he -wishes to stay with me, let him... he'll be of use here if he's a -brave officer," thought Bagration. Prince Andrew, without replying, -asked the prince's permission to ride round the position to see the -disposition of the forces, so as to know his bearings should he be -sent to execute an order. The officer on duty, a handsome, elegantly -dressed man with a diamond ring on his forefinger, who was fond of -speaking French though he spoke it badly, offered to conduct Prince -Andrew. - -On all sides they saw rain-soaked officers with dejected faces who -seemed to be seeking something, and soldiers dragging doors, -benches, and fencing from the village. - -"There now, Prince! We can't stop those fellows," said the staff -officer pointing to the soldiers. "The officers don't keep them in -hand. And there," he pointed to a sutler's tent, "they crowd in and -sit. This morning I turned them all out and now look, it's full again. -I must go there, Prince, and scare them a bit. It won't take a -moment." - -"Yes, let's go in and I will get myself a roll and some cheese," -said Prince Andrew who had not yet had time to eat anything. - -"Why didn't you mention it, Prince? I would have offered you -something." - -They dismounted and entered the tent. Several officers, with flushed -and weary faces, were sitting at the table eating and drinking. - -"Now what does this mean, gentlemen?" said the staff officer, in the -reproachful tone of a man who has repeated the same thing more than -once. "You know it won't do to leave your posts like this. The -prince gave orders that no one should leave his post. Now you, -Captain," and he turned to a thin, dirty little artillery officer -who without his boots (he had given them to the canteen keeper to -dry), in only his stockings, rose when they entered, smiling not -altogether comfortably. - -"Well, aren't you ashamed of yourself, Captain Tushin?" he -continued. "One would think that as an artillery officer you would set -a good example, yet here you are without your boots! The alarm will be -sounded and you'll be in a pretty position without your boots!" (The -staff officer smiled.) "Kindly return to your posts, gentlemen, all of -you, all!" he added in a tone of command. - -Prince Andrew smiled involuntarily as he looked at the artillery -officer Tushin, who silent and smiling, shifting from one stockinged -foot to the other, glanced inquiringly with his large, intelligent, -kindly eyes from Prince Andrew to the staff officer. - -"The soldiers say it feels easier without boots," said Captain -Tushin smiling shyly in his uncomfortable position, evidently -wishing to adopt a jocular tone. But before he had finished he felt -that his jest was unacceptable and had not come off. He grew confused. - -"Kindly return to your posts," said the staff officer trying to -preserve his gravity. - -Prince Andrew glanced again at the artillery officer's small figure. -There was something peculiar about it, quite unsoldierly, rather -comic, but extremely attractive. - -The staff officer and Prince Andrew mounted their horses and rode -on. - -Having ridden beyond the village, continually meeting and overtaking -soldiers and officers of various regiments, they saw on their left -some entrenchments being thrown up, the freshly dug clay of which -showed up red. Several battalions of soldiers, in their shirt -sleeves despite the cold wind, swarmed in these earthworks like a host -of white ants; spadefuls of red clay were continually being thrown -up from behind the bank by unseen hands. Prince Andrew and the officer -rode up, looked at the entrenchment, and went on again. Just behind it -they came upon some dozens of soldiers, continually replaced by -others, who ran from the entrenchment. They had to hold their noses -and put their horses to a trot to escape from the poisoned -atmosphere of these latrines. - -"Voila l'agrement des camps, monsieur le Prince,"~{ "This is a pleasure one gets in camp, Prince." }~ said the staff -officer. - -They rode up the opposite hill. From there the French could -already be seen. Prince Andrew stopped and began examining the -position. - -"That's our battery," said the staff officer indicating the -highest point. "It's in charge of the queer fellow we saw without -his boots. You can see everything from there; let's go there, Prince." - -"Thank you very much, I will go on alone," said Prince Andrew, -wishing to rid himself of this staff officer's company, "please -don't trouble yourself further." - -The staff officer remained behind and Prince Andrew rode on alone. - -The farther forward and nearer the enemy he went, the more orderly -and cheerful were the troops. The greatest disorder and depression had -been in the baggage train he had passed that morning on the Znaim road -seven miles away from the French. At Grunth also some apprehension and -alarm could be felt, but the nearer Prince Andrew came to the French -lines the more confident was the appearance of our troops. The -soldiers in their greatcoats were ranged in lines, the sergeants major -and company officers were counting the men, poking the last man in -each section in the ribs and telling him to hold his hand up. Soldiers -scattered over the whole place were dragging logs and brushwood and -were building shelters with merry chatter and laughter; around the -fires sat others, dressed and undressed, drying their shirts and leg -bands or mending boots or overcoats and crowding round the boilers and -porridge cookers. In one company dinner was ready, and the soldiers -were gazing eagerly at the steaming boiler, waiting till the sample, -which a quartermaster sergeant was carrying in a wooden bowl to an -officer who sat on a log before his shelter, had been tasted. - -Another company, a lucky one for not all the companies had vodka, -crowded round a pock-marked, broad-shouldered sergeant major who, -tilting a keg, filled one after another the canteen lids held out to -him. The soldiers lifted the canteen lids to their lips with -reverential faces, emptied them, rolling the vodka in their mouths, -and walked away from the sergeant major with brightened expressions, -licking their lips and wiping them on the sleeves of their greatcoats. -All their faces were as serene as if all this were happening at home -awaiting peaceful encampment, and not within sight of the enemy before -an action in which at least half of them would be left on the field. -After passing a chasseur regiment and in the lines of the Kiev -grenadiers- fine fellows busy with similar peaceful affairs- near -the shelter of the regimental commander, higher than and different -from the others, Prince Andrew came out in front of a platoon of -grenadiers before whom lay a naked man. Two soldiers held him while -two others were flourishing their switches and striking him -regularly on his bare back. The man shrieked unnaturally. A stout -major was pacing up and down the line, and regardless of the screams -kept repeating: - -"It's a shame for a soldier to steal; a soldier must be honest, -honorable, and brave, but if he robs his fellows there is no honor -in him, he's a scoundrel. Go on! Go on!" - -So the swishing sound of the strokes, and the desperate but -unnatural screams, continued. - -"Go on, go on!" said the major. - -A young officer with a bewildered and pained expression on his -face stepped away from the man and looked round inquiringly at the -adjutant as he rode by. - -Prince Andrew, having reached the front line, rode along it. Our -front line and that of the enemy were far apart on the right and -left flanks, but in the center where the men with a flag of truce -had passed that morning, the lines were so near together that the -men could see one another's faces and speak to one another. Besides -the soldiers who formed the picket line on either side, there were -many curious onlookers who, jesting and laughing, stared at their -strange foreign enemies. - -Since early morning- despite an injunction not to approach the -picket line- the officers had been unable to keep sight-seers away. -The soldiers forming the picket line, like showmen exhibiting a -curiosity, no longer looked at the French but paid attention to the -sight-seers and grew weary waiting to be relieved. Prince Andrew -halted to have a look at the French. - -"Look! Look there!" one soldier was saying to another, pointing to a -Russian musketeer who had gone up to the picket line with an officer -and was rapidly and excitedly talking to a French grenadier. "Hark -to him jabbering! Fine, isn't it? It's all the Frenchy can do to -keep up with him. There now, Sidorov!" - -"Wait a bit and listen. It's fine!" answered Sidorov, who was -considered an adept at French. - -The soldier to whom the laughers referred was Dolokhov. Prince -Andrew recognized him and stopped to listen to what he was saying. -Dolokhov had come from the left flank where their regiment was -stationed, with his captain. - -"Now then, go on, go on!" incited the officer, bending forward and -trying not to lose a word of the speech which was incomprehensible -to him. "More, please: more! What's he saying?" - -Dolokhov did not answer the captain; he had been drawn into a hot -dispute with the French grenadier. They were naturally talking about -the campaign. The Frenchman, confusing the Austrians with the -Russians, was trying to prove that the Russians had surrendered and -had fled all the way from Ulm, while Dolokhov maintained that the -Russians had not surrendered but had beaten the French. - -"We have orders to drive you off here, and we shall drive you -off," said Dolokhov. - -"Only take care you and your Cossacks are not all captured!" said -the French grenadier. - -The French onlookers and listeners laughed. - -"We'll make you dance as we did under Suvorov...,"~{ "On vous fera danser." }~ said Dolokhov. - -"Qu' est-ce qu'il chante?"~{ "What's he singing about?" }~ asked a Frenchman. - -"It's ancient history," said another, guessing that it referred to a -former war. "The Emperor will teach your Suvara as he has taught the -others..." - -"Bonaparte..." began Dolokhov, but the Frenchman interrupted him. - -"Not Bonaparte. He is the Emperor! Sacre nom...!" cried he angrily. - -"The devil skin your Emperor." - -And Dolokhov swore at him in coarse soldier's Russian and -shouldering his musket walked away. - -"Let us go, Ivan Lukich," he said to the captain. - -"Ah, that's the way to talk French," said the picket soldiers. "Now, -Sidorov, you have a try!" - -Sidorov, turning to the French, winked, and began to jabber -meaningless sounds very fast: "Kari, mala, tafa, safi, muter, -Kaska," he said, trying to give an expressive intonation to his voice. - -"Ho! ho! ho! Ha! ha! ha! ha! Ouh! ouh!" came peals of such healthy -and good-humored laughter from the soldiers that it infected the -French involuntarily, so much so that the only thing left to do seemed -to be to unload the muskets, muskets, explode the ammunition, and -all return home as quickly as possible. - -But the guns remained loaded, the loopholes in blockhouses and -entrenchments looked out just as menacingly, and the unlimbered cannon -confronted one another as before. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Having ridden round the whole line from right flank to left, -Prince Andrew made his way up to the battery from which the staff -officer had told him the whole field could be seen. Here he -dismounted, and stopped beside the farthest of the four unlimbered -cannon. Before the guns an artillery sentry was pacing up and down; he -stood at attention when the officer arrived, but at a sign resumed his -measured, monotonous pacing. Behind the guns were their limbers and -still farther back picket ropes and artillerymen's bonfires. To the -left, not far from the farthest cannon, was a small, newly constructed -wattle shed from which came the sound of officers' voices in eager -conversation. - -It was true that a view over nearly the whole Russian position and -the greater part of the enemy's opened out from this battery. Just -facing it, on the crest of the opposite hill, the village of Schon -Grabern could be seen, and in three places to left and right the -French troops amid the smoke of their campfires, the greater part of -whom were evidently in the village itself and behind the hill. To -the left from that village, amid the smoke, was something resembling a -battery, but it was impossible to see it clearly with the naked eye. -Our right flank was posted on a rather steep incline which dominated -the French position. Our infantry were stationed there, and at the -farthest point the dragoons. In the center, where Tushin's battery -stood and from which Prince Andrew was surveying the position, was the -easiest and most direct descent and ascent to the brook separating -us from Schon Grabern. On the left our troops were close to a copse, -in which smoked the bonfires of our infantry who were felling wood. -The French line was wider than ours, and it was plain that they -could easily outflank us on both sides. Behind our position was a -steep and deep dip, making it difficult for artillery and cavalry to -retire. Prince Andrew took out his notebook and, leaning on the -cannon, sketched a plan of the position. He made some notes on two -points, intending to mention them to Bagration. His idea was, first, -to concentrate all the artillery in the center, and secondly, to -withdraw the cavalry to the other side of the dip. Prince Andrew, -being always near the commander in chief, closely following the mass -movements and general orders, and constantly studying historical -accounts of battles, involuntarily pictured to himself the course of -events in the forthcoming action in broad outline. He imagined only -important possibilities: "If the enemy attacks the right flank," he -said to himself, "the Kiev grenadiers and the Podolsk chasseurs must -hold their position till reserves from the center come up. In that -case the dragoons could successfully make a flank counterattack. If -they attack our center we, having the center battery on this high -ground, shall withdraw the left flank under its cover, and retreat -to the dip by echelons." So he reasoned.... All the time he had been -beside the gun, he had heard the voices of the officers distinctly, -but as often happens had not understood a word of what they were -saying. Suddenly, however, he was struck by a voice coming from the -shed, and its tone was so sincere that he could not but listen. - -"No, friend," said a pleasant and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, -a familiar voice, "what I say is that if it were possible to know what -is beyond death, none of us would be afraid of it. That's so, friend." - -Another, a younger voice, interrupted him: "Afraid or not, you can't -escape it anyhow." - -"All the same, one is afraid! Oh, you clever people," said a third -manly voice interrupting them both. "Of course you artillery men are -very wise, because you can take everything along with you- vodka and -snacks." - -And the owner of the manly voice, evidently an infantry officer, -laughed. - -"Yes, one is afraid," continued the first speaker, he of the -familiar voice. "One is afraid of the unknown, that's what it is. -Whatever we may say about the soul going to the sky... we know there -is no sky but only an atmosphere." - -The manly voice again interrupted the artillery officer. - -"Well, stand us some of your herb vodka, Tushin," it said. - -"Why," thought Prince Andrew, "that's the captain who stood up in -the sutler's hut without his boots." He recognized the agreeable, -philosophizing voice with pleasure. - -"Some herb vodka? Certainly!" said Tushin. "But still, to conceive a -future life..." - -He did not finish. Just then there was a whistle in the air; -nearer and nearer, faster and louder, louder and faster, a cannon -ball, as if it had not finished saying what was necessary, thudded -into the ground near the shed with super human force, throwing up a -mass of earth. The ground seemed to groan at the terrible impact. - -And immediately Tushin, with a short pipe in the corner of his mouth -and his kind, intelligent face rather pale, rushed out of the shed -followed by the owner of the manly voice, a dashing infantry officer -who hurried off to his company, buttoning up his coat as he ran. - -CHAPTER XVII - -Mounting his horse again Prince Andrew lingered with the battery, -looking at the puff from the gun that had sent the ball. His eyes -ran rapidly over the wide space, but he only saw that the hitherto -motionless masses of the French now swayed and that there really was a -battery to their left. The smoke above it had not yet dispersed. Two -mounted Frenchmen, probably adjutants, were galloping up the hill. A -small but distinctly visible enemy column was moving down the hill, -probably to strengthen the front line. The smoke of the first shot had -not yet dispersed before another puff appeared, followed by a -report. The battle had begun! Prince Andrew turned his horse and -galloped back to Grunth to find Prince Bagration. He heard the -cannonade behind him growing louder and more frequent. Evidently our -guns had begun to reply. From the bottom of the slope, where the -parleys had taken place, came the report of musketry. - -Lemarrois had just arrived at a gallop with Bonaparte's stern -letter, and Murat, humiliated and anxious to expiate his fault, had at -once moved his forces to attack the center and outflank both the -Russian wings, hoping before evening and before the arrival of the -Emperor to crush the contemptible detachment that stood before him. - -"It has begun. Here it is!" thought Prince Andrew, feeling the blood -rush to his heart. "But where and how will my Toulon present itself?" - -Passing between the companies that had been eating porridge and -drinking vodka a quarter of an hour before, he saw everywhere the same -rapid movement of soldiers forming ranks and getting their muskets -ready, and on all their faces he recognized the same eagerness that -filled his heart. "It has begun! Here it is, dreadful but -enjoyable!" was what the face of each soldier and each officer -seemed to say. - -Before he had reached the embankments that were being thrown up, -he saw, in the light of the dull autumn evening, mounted men coming -toward him. The foremost, wearing a Cossack cloak and lambskin cap and -riding a white horse, was Prince Bagration. Prince Andrew stopped, -waiting for him to come up; Prince Bagration reined in his horse and -recognizing Prince Andrew nodded to him. He still looked ahead while -Prince Andrew told him what he had seen. - -The feeling, "It has begun! Here it is!" was seen even on Prince -Bagration's hard brown face with its half-closed, dull, sleepy eyes. -Prince Andrew gazed with anxious curiosity at that impassive face -and wished he could tell what, if anything, this man was thinking -and feeling at that moment. "Is there anything at all behind that -impassive face?" Prince Andrew asked himself as he looked. Prince -Bagration bent his head in sign of agreement with what Prince Andrew -told him, and said, "Very good!" in a tone that seemed to imply that -everything that took place and was reported to him was exactly what he -had foreseen. Prince Andrew, out of breath with his rapid ride, -spoke quickly. Prince Bagration, uttering his words with an Oriental -accent, spoke particularly slowly, as if to impress the fact that -there was no need to hurry. However, he put his horse to a trot in the -direction of Tushin's battery. Prince Andrew followed with the -suite. Behind Prince Bagration rode an officer of the suite, the -prince's personal adjutant, Zherkov, an orderly officer, the staff -officer on duty, riding a fine bobtailed horse, and a civilian- an -accountant who had asked permission to be present at the battle out of -curiosity. The accountant, a stout, full-faced man, looked around -him with a naive smile of satisfaction and presented a strange -appearance among the hussars, Cossacks, and adjutants, in his camlet -coat, as he jolted on his horse with a convoy officer's saddle. - -"He wants to see a battle," said Zherkov to Bolkonski, pointing to -the accountant, "but he feels a pain in the pit of his stomach -already." - -"Oh, leave off!" said the accountant with a beaming but rather -cunning smile, as if flattered at being made the subject of -Zherkov's joke, and purposely trying to appear stupider than he really -was. - -"It is very strange, mon Monsieur Prince," said the staff officer. -(He remembered that in French there is some peculiar way of addressing -a prince, but could not get it quite right.) - -By this time they were all approaching Tushin's battery, and a -ball struck the ground in front of them. - -"What's that that has fallen?" asked the accountant with a naive -smile. - -"A French pancake," answered Zherkov. - -"So that's what they hit with?" asked the accountant. "How awful!" - -He seemed to swell with satisfaction. He had hardly finished -speaking when they again heard an unexpectedly violent whistling which -suddenly ended with a thud into something soft... f-f-flop! and a -Cossack, riding a little to their right and behind the accountant, -crashed to earth with his horse. Zherkov and the staff officer bent -over their saddles and turned their horses away. The accountant -stopped, facing the Cossack, and examined him with attentive -curiosity. The Cossack was dead, but the horse still struggled. - -Prince Bagration screwed up his eyes, looked round, and, seeing -the cause of the confusion, turned away with indifference, as if to -say, "Is it worth while noticing trifles?" He reined in his horse with -the case of a skillful rider and, slightly bending over, disengaged -his saber which had caught in his cloak. It was an old-fashioned saber -of a kind no longer in general use. Prince Andrew remembered the story -of Suvorov giving his saber to Bagration in Italy, and the -recollection was particularly pleasant at that moment. They had -reached the battery at which Prince Andrew had been when he examined -the battlefield. - -"Whose company?" asked Prince Bagration of an artilleryman -standing by the ammunition wagon. - -He asked, "Whose company?" but he really meant, "Are you -frightened here?" and the artilleryman understood him. - -"Captain Tushin's, your excellency!" shouted the red-haired, -freckled gunner in a merry voice, standing to attention. - -"Yes, yes," muttered Bagration as if considering something, and he -rode past the limbers to the farthest cannon. - -As he approached, a ringing shot issued from it deafening him and -his suite, and in the smoke that suddenly surrounded the gun they -could see the gunners who had seized it straining to roll it quickly -back to its former position. A huge, broad-shouldered gunner, Number -One, holding a mop, his legs far apart, sprang to the wheel; while -Number Two with a trembling hand placed a charge in the cannon's -mouth. The short, round-shouldered Captain Tushin, stumbling over -the tail of the gun carriage, moved forward and, not noticing the -general, looked out shading his eyes with his small hand. - -"Lift it two lines more and it will be just right," cried he in a -feeble voice to which he tried to impart a dashing note, ill suited to -his weak figure. "Number Two!" he squeaked. "Fire, Medvedev!" - -Bagration called to him, and Tushin, raising three fingers to his -cap with a bashful and awkward gesture not at all like a military -salute but like a priest's benediction, approached the general. Though -Tushin's guns had been intended to cannonade the valley, he was firing -incendiary balls at the village of Schon Grabern visible just -opposite, in front of which large masses of French were advancing. - -No one had given Tushin orders where and at what to fire, but -after consulting his sergeant major, Zakharchenko, for whom he had -great respect, he had decided that it would be a good thing to set -fire to the village. "Very good!" said Bagration in reply to the -officer's report, and began deliberately to examine the whole -battlefield extended before him. The French had advanced nearest on -our right. Below the height on which the Kiev regiment was -stationed, in the hollow where the rivulet flowed, the soul-stirring -rolling and crackling of musketry was heard, and much farther to the -right beyond the dragoons, the officer of the suite pointed out to -Bagration a French column that was outflanking us. To the left the -horizon bounded by the adjacent wood. Prince Bagration ordered two -battalions from the center to be sent to reinforce the right flank. -The officer of the suite ventured to remark to the prince that if -these battalions went away, the guns would remain without support. -Prince Bagration turned to the officer and with his dull eyes looked -at him in silence. It seemed to Prince Andrew that the officer's -remark was just and that really no answer could be made to it. But -at that moment an adjutant galloped up with a message from the -commander of the regiment in the hollow and news that immense masses -of the French were coming down upon them and that his regiment was -in disorder and was retreating upon the Kiev grenadiers. Prince -Bagration bowed his head in sign of assent and approval. He rode off -at a walk to the right and sent an adjutant to the dragoons with -orders to attack the French. But this adjutant returned half an hour -later with the news that the commander of the dragoons had already -retreated beyond the dip in the ground, as a heavy fire had been -opened on him and he was losing men uselessly, and so had hastened -to throw some sharpshooters into the wood. - -"Very good!" said Bagration. - -As he was leaving the battery, firing was heard on the left also, -and as it was too far to the left flank for him to have time to go -there himself, Prince Bagration sent Zherkov to tell the general in -command (the one who had paraded his regiment before Kutuzov at -Braunau) that he must retreat as quickly as possible behind the hollow -in the rear, as the right flank would probably not be able to -withstand the enemy's attack very long. About Tushin and the battalion -that had been in support of his battery all was forgotten. Prince -Andrew listened attentively to Bagration's colloquies with the -commanding officers and the orders he gave them and, to his -surprise, found that no orders were really given, but that Prince -Bagration tried to make it appear that everything done by necessity, -by accident, or by the will of subordinate commanders was done, if not -by his direct command, at least in accord with his intentions. -Prince Andrew noticed, however, that though what happened was due to -chance and was independent of the commander's will, owing to the -tact Bagration showed, his presence was very valuable. Officers who -approached him with disturbed countenances became calm; soldiers and -officers greeted him gaily, grew more cheerful in his presence, and -were evidently anxious to display their courage before him. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Prince Bagration, having reached the highest point of our right -flank, began riding downhill to where the roll of musketry was heard -but where on account of the smoke nothing could be seen. The nearer -they got to the hollow the less they could see but the more they -felt the nearness of the actual battlefield. They began to meet -wounded men. One with a bleeding head and no cap was being dragged -along by two soldiers who supported him under the arms. There was a -gurgle in his throat and he was spitting blood. A bullet had evidently -hit him in the throat or mouth. Another was walking sturdily by -himself but without his musket, groaning aloud and swinging his arm -which had just been hurt, while blood from it was streaming over his -greatcoat as from a bottle. He had that moment been wounded and his -face showed fear rather than suffering. Crossing a road they descended -a steep incline and saw several men lying on the ground; they also met -a crowd of soldiers some of whom were unwounded. The soldiers were -ascending the hill breathing heavily, and despite the general's -presence were talking loudly and gesticulating. In front of them -rows of gray cloaks were already visible through the smoke, and an -officer catching sight of Bagration rushed shouting after the crowd of -retreating soldiers, ordering them back. Bagration rode up to the -ranks along which shots crackled now here and now there, drowning -the sound of voices and the shouts of command. The whole air reeked -with smoke. The excited faces of the soldiers were blackened with -it. Some were using their ramrods, others putting powder on the -touchpans or taking charges from their pouches, while others were -firing, though who they were firing at could not be seen for the smoke -which there was no wind to carry away. A pleasant humming and -whistling of bullets were often heard. "What is this?" thought -Prince Andrew approaching the crowd of soldiers. "It can't be an -attack, for they are not moving; it can't be a square- for they are -not drawn up for that." - -The commander of the regiment, a thin, feeble-looking old man with a -pleasant smile- his eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes, -giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as -a host welcomes an honored guest. He reported that his regiment had -been attacked by French cavalry and that, though the attack had been -repulsed, he had lost more than half his men. He said the attack had -been repulsed, employing this military term to describe what had -occurred to his regiment, but in reality he did not himself know -what had happened during that half-hour to the troops entrusted to -him, and could not say with certainty whether the attack had been -repulsed or his regiment had been broken up. All he knew was that at -the commencement of the action balls and shells began flying all -over his regiment and hitting men and that afterwards someone had -shouted "Cavalry!" and our men had begun firing. They were still -firing, not at the cavalry which had disappeared, but at French -infantry who had come into the hollow and were firing at our men. -Prince Bagration bowed his head as a sign that this was exactly what -he had desired and expected. Turning to his adjutant he ordered him to -bring down the two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs whom they had -just passed. Prince Andrew was struck by the changed expression on -Prince Bagration's face at this moment. It expressed the -concentrated and happy resolution you see on the face of a man who -on a hot day takes a final run before plunging into the water. The -dull, sleepy expression was no longer there, nor the affectation of -profound thought. The round, steady, hawk's eyes looked before him -eagerly and rather disdainfully, not resting on anything although -his movements were still slow and measured. - -The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration, entreating -him to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were. -"Please, your excellency, for God's sake!" he kept saying, glancing -for support at an officer of the suite who turned away from him. -"There, you see!" and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, -singing, and hissing continually around them. He spoke in the tone -of entreaty and reproach that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who -has picked up an ax: "We are used to it, but you, sir, will blister -your hands." He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and -his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words. -The staff officer joined in the colonel's appeals, but Bagration did -not reply; he only gave an order to cease firing and re-form, so as to -give room for the two approaching battalions. While he was speaking, -the curtain of smoke that had concealed the hollow, driven by a rising -wind, began to move from right to left as if drawn by an invisible -hand, and the hill opposite, with the French moving about on it, -opened out before them. All eyes fastened involuntarily on this French -column advancing against them and winding down over the uneven ground. -One could already see the soldiers' shaggy caps, distinguish the -officers from the men, and see the standard flapping against its -staff. - -"They march splendidly," remarked someone in Bagration's suite. - -The head of the column had already descended into the hollow. The -clash would take place on this side of it... - -The remains of our regiment which had been in action rapidly -formed up and moved to the right; from behind it, dispersing the -laggards, came two battalions of the Sixth Chasseurs in fine order. -Before they had reached Bagration, the weighty tread of the mass of -men marching in step could be heard. On their left flank, nearest to -Bagration, marched a company commander, a fine round-faced man, with a -stupid and happy expression- the same man who had rushed out of the -wattle shed. At that moment he was clearly thinking of nothing but how -dashing a fellow he would appear as he passed the commander. - -With the self-satisfaction of a man on parade, he stepped lightly -with his muscular legs as if sailing along, stretching himself to -his full height without the smallest effort, his ease contrasting with -the heavy tread of the soldiers who were keeping step with him. He -carried close to his leg a narrow unsheathed sword (small, curved, and -not like a real weapon) and looked now at the superior officers and -now back at the men without losing step, his whole powerful body -turning flexibly. It was as if all the powers of his soul were -concentrated on passing the commander in the best possible manner, and -feeling that he was doing it well he was happy. "Left... left... -left..." he seemed to repeat to himself at each alternate step; and in -time to this, with stern but varied faces, the wall of soldiers -burdened with knapsacks and muskets marched in step, and each one of -these hundreds of soldiers seemed to be repeating to himself at each -alternate step, "Left... left... left..." A fat major skirted a -bush, puffing and falling out of step; a soldier who had fallen -behind, his face showing alarm at his defection, ran at a trot, -panting to catch up with his company. A cannon ball, cleaving the air, -flew over the heads of Bagration and his suite, and fell into the -column to the measure of "Left... left!" "Close up!" came the -company commander's voice in jaunty tones. The soldiers passed in a -semicircle round something where the ball had fallen, and an old -trooper on the flank, a noncommissioned officer who had stopped beside -the dead men, ran to catch up his line and, falling into step with a -hop, looked back angrily, and through the ominous silence and the -regular tramp of feet beating the ground in unison, one seemed to hear -left... left... left. - -"Well done, lads!" said Prince Bagration. - -"Glad to do our best, your ex'len-lency!" came a confused shout from -the ranks. A morose soldier marching on the left turned his eyes on -Bagration as he shouted, with an expression that seemed to say: "We -know that ourselves!" Another, without looking round, as though -fearing to relax, shouted with his mouth wide open and passed on. - -The order was given to halt and down knapsacks. - -Bagration rode round the ranks that had marched past him and -dismounted. He gave the reins to a Cossack, took off and handed over -his felt coat, stretched his legs, and set his cap straight. The -head of the French column, with its officers leading, appeared from -below the hill. - -"Forward, with God!" said Bagration, in a resolute, sonorous -voice, turning for a moment to the front line, and slightly swinging -his arms, he went forward uneasily over the rough field with the -awkward gait of a cavalryman. Prince Andrew felt that an invisible -power was leading him forward, and experienced great happiness. - -The French were already near. Prince Andrew, walking beside -Bagration, could clearly distinguish their bandoliers, red epaulets, -and even their faces. (He distinctly saw an old French officer who, -with gaitered legs and turned-out toes, climbed the hill with -difficulty.) Prince Bagration gave no further orders and silently -continued to walk on in front of the ranks. Suddenly one shot after -another rang out from the French, smoke appeared all along their -uneven ranks, and musket shots sounded. Several of our men fell, among -them the round-faced officer who had marched so gaily and -complacently. But at the moment the first report was heard, -Bagration looked round and shouted, "Hurrah!" - -"Hurrah- ah!- ah!" rang a long-drawn shout from our ranks, and -passing Bagration and racing one another they rushed in an irregular -but joyous and eager crowd down the hill at their disordered foe. - -CHAPTER XIX - -The attack of the Sixth Chasseurs secured the retreat of our right -flank. In the center Tushin's forgotten battery, which had managed -to set fire to the Schon Grabern village, delayed the French -advance. The French were putting out the fire which the wind was -spreading, and thus gave us time to retreat. The retirement of the -center to the other side of the dip in the ground at the rear was -hurried and noisy, but the different companies did not get mixed. -But our left- which consisted of the Azov and Podolsk infantry and the -Pavlograd hussars- was simultaneously attacked and outflanked by -superior French forces under Lannes and was thrown into confusion. -Bagration had sent Zherkov to the general commanding that left flank -with orders to retreat immediately. - -Zherkov, not removing his hand from his cap, turned his horse -about and galloped off. But no sooner had he left Bagration than his -courage failed him. He was seized by panic and could not go where it -was dangerous. - -Having reached the left flank, instead of going to the front where -the firing was, he began to look for the general and his staff where -they could not possibly be, and so did not deliver the order. - -The command of the left flank belonged by seniority to the commander -of the regiment Kutuzov had reviewed at Braunau and in which -Dolokhov was serving as a private. But the command of the extreme left -flank had been assigned to the commander of the Pavlograd regiment -in which Rostov was serving, and a misunderstanding arose. The two -commanders were much exasperated with one another and, long after -the action had begun on the right flank and the French were already -advancing, were engaged in discussion with the sole object of -offending one another. But the regiments, both cavalry and infantry, -were by no means ready for the impending action. From privates to -general they were not expecting a battle and were engaged in -peaceful occupations, the cavalry feeding the horses and the -infantry collecting wood. - -"He higher iss dan I in rank," said the German colonel of the -hussars, flushing and addressing an adjutant who had ridden up, "so -let him do what he vill, but I cannot sacrifice my hussars... -Bugler, sount ze retreat!" - -But haste was becoming imperative. Cannon and musketry, mingling -together, thundered on the right and in the center, while the -capotes of Lannes' sharpshooters were already seen crossing the -milldam and forming up within twice the range of a musket shot. The -general in command of the infantry went toward his horse with jerky -steps, and having mounted drew himself up very straight and tall and -rode to the Pavlograd commander. The commanders met with polite bows -but with secret malevolence in their hearts. - -"Once again, Colonel," said the general, "I can't leave half my -men in the wood. I beg of you, I beg of you," he repeated, "to -occupy the position and prepare for an attack." - -"I peg of you yourself not to mix in vot is not your business!" -suddenly replied the irate colonel. "If you vere in the cavalry..." - -"I am not in the cavalry, Colonel, but I am a Russian general and if -you are not aware of the fact..." - -"Quite avare, your excellency," suddenly shouted the colonel, -touching his horse and turning purple in the face. "Vill you be so -goot to come to ze front and see dat zis position iss no goot? I don't -vish to destroy my men for your pleasure!" - -"You forget yourself, Colonel. I am not considering my own -pleasure and I won't allow it to be said!" - -Taking the colonel's outburst as a challenge to his courage, the -general expanded his chest and rode, frowning, beside him to the front -line, as if their differences would be settled there amongst the -bullets. They reached the front, several bullets sped over them, and -they halted in silence. There was nothing fresh to be seen from the -line, for from where they had been before it had been evident that -it was impossible for cavalry to act among the bushes and broken -ground, as well as that the French were outflanking our left. The -general and colonel looked sternly and significantly at one another -like two fighting cocks preparing for battle, each vainly trying to -detect signs of cowardice in the other. Both passed the examination -successfully. As there was nothing to said, and neither wished to give -occasion for it to be alleged that he had been the first to leave -the range of fire, they would have remained there for a long time -testing each other's courage had it not been that just then they heard -the rattle of musketry and a muffled shout almost behind them in the -wood. The French had attacked the men collecting wood in the copse. It -was no longer possible for the hussars to retreat with the infantry. -They were cut off from the line of retreat on the left by the -French. However inconvenient the position, it was now necessary to -attack in order to cut away through for themselves. - -The squadron in which Rostov was serving had scarcely time to -mount before it was halted facing the enemy. Again, as at the Enns -bridge, there was nothing between the squadron and the enemy, and -again that terrible dividing line of uncertainty and fear- -resembling the line separating the living from the dead- lay between -them. All were conscious of this unseen line, and the question whether -they would they would cross it or not, and how they would cross it, -agitated them all. - -The colonel rode to the front, angrily gave some reply to -questions put to him by the officers, and, like a man desperately -insisting on having his own way, gave an order. No one said anything -definite, but the rumor of an attack spread through the squadron. -The command to form up rang out and the sabers whizzed as they were -drawn from their scabbards. Still no one moved. The troops of the left -flank, infantry and hussars alike, felt that the commander did not -himself know what to do, and this irresolution communicated itself -to the men. - -"If only they would be quick!" thought Rostov, feeling that at -last the time had come to experience the joy of an attack of which -he had so often heard from his fellow hussars. - -"Fo'ward, with God, lads!" rang out Denisov's voice. "At a twot -fo'ward!" - -The horses' croups began to sway in the front line. Rook pulled at -the reins and started of his own accord. - -Before him, on the right, Rostov saw the front lines of his -hussars and still farther ahead a dark line which he could not see -distinctly but took to be the enemy. Shots could be heard, but some -way off. - -"Faster!" came the word of command, and Rostov felt Rook's flanks -drooping as he broke into a gallop. - -Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more -elated. He had noticed a solitary tree ahead of him. This tree had -been in the middle of the line that had seemed so terrible- and now he -had crossed that line and not only was there nothing terrible, but -everything was becoming more and more happy and animated. "Oh, how I -will slash at him!" thought Rostov, gripping the hilt of his saber. - -"Hur-a-a-a-ah!" came a roar of voices. "Let anyone come my way now," -thought Rostov driving his spurs into Rook and letting him go at a -full gallop so that he outstripped the others. Ahead, the enemy was -already visible. Suddenly something like a birch broom seemed to sweep -over the squadron. Rostov raised his saber, ready to strike, but at -that instant the trooper Nikitenko, who was galloping ahead, shot away -from him, and Rostov felt as in a dream that he continued to be -carried forward with unnatural speed but yet stayed on the same -spot. From behind him Bondarchuk, an hussar he knew, jolted against -him and looked angrily at him. Bondarchuk's horse swerved and galloped -past. - -"How is it I am not moving? I have fallen, I am killed!" Rostov -asked and answered at the same instant. He was alone in the middle -of a field. Instead of the moving horses and hussars' backs, he saw -nothing before him but the motionless earth and the stubble around -him. There was warm blood under his arm. "No, I am wounded and the -horse is killed." Rook tried to rise on his forelegs but fell back, -pinning his rider's leg. Blood was flowing from his head; he struggled -but could not rise. Rostov also tried to rise but fell back, his -sabretache having become entangled in the saddle. Where our men -were, and where the French, he did not know. There was no one near. - -Having disentangled his leg, he rose. "Where, on which side, was now -the line that had so sharply divided the two armies?" he asked himself -and could not answer. "Can something bad have happened to me?" he -wondered as he got up: and at that moment he felt that something -superfluous was hanging on his benumbed left arm. The wrist felt as if -it were not his. He examined his hand carefully, vainly trying to find -blood on it. "Ah, here are people coming," he thought joyfully, seeing -some men running toward him. "They will help me!" In front came a -man wearing a strange shako and a blue cloak, swarthy, sunburned, -and with a hooked nose. Then came two more, and many more running -behind. One of them said something strange, not in Russian. In among -the hindmost of these men wearing similar shakos was a Russian hussar. -He was being held by the arms and his horse was being led behind him. - -"It must be one of ours, a prisoner. Yes. Can it be that they will -take me too? Who are these men?" thought Rostov, scarcely believing -his eyes. "Can they be French?" He looked at the approaching -Frenchmen, and though but a moment before he had been galloping to get -at them and hack them to pieces, their proximity now seemed so awful -that he could not believe his eyes. "Who are they? Why are they -running? Can they be coming at me? And why? To kill me? Me whom -everyone is so fond of?" He remembered his mother's love for him, -and his family's, and his friends', and the enemy's intention to -kill him seemed impossible. "But perhaps they may do it!" For more -than ten seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the -situation. The foremost Frenchman, the one with the hooked nose, was -already so close that the expression of his face could be seen. And -the excited, alien face of that man, his bayonet hanging down, holding -his breath, and running so lightly, frightened Rostov. He seized his -pistol and, instead of firing it, flung it at the Frenchman and ran -with all his might toward the bushes. He did not now run with the -feeling of doubt and conflict with which he had trodden the Enns -bridge, but with the feeling of a hare fleeing from the hounds. One -single sentiment, that of fear for his young and happy life, possessed -his whole being. Rapidly leaping the furrows, he fled across the field -with the impetuosity he used to show at catchplay, now and then -turning his good-natured, pale, young face to look back. A shudder -of terror went through him: "No, better not look," he thought, but -having reached the bushes he glanced round once more. The French had -fallen behind, and just as he looked round the first man changed his -run to a walk and, turning, shouted something loudly to a comrade -farther back. Rostov paused. "No, there's some mistake," thought he. -"They can't have wanted to kill me." But at the same time, his left -arm felt as heavy as if a seventy-pound weight were tied to it. He -could run no more. The Frenchman also stopped and took aim. Rostov -closed his eyes and stooped down. One bullet and then another whistled -past him. He mustered his last remaining strength, took hold of his -left hand with his right, and reached the bushes. Behind these were -some Russian sharpshooters. - -CHAPTER XX - -The infantry regiments that had been caught unawares in the -outskirts of the wood ran out of it, the different companies getting -mixed, and retreated as a disorderly crowd. One soldier, in his -fear, uttered the senseless cry, "Cut off!" that is so terrible in -battle, and that word infected the whole crowd with a feeling of -panic. - -"Surrounded! Cut off? We're lost!" shouted the fugitives. - -The moment he heard the firing and the cry from behind, the -general realized that something dreadful had happened to his regiment, -and the thought that he, an exemplary officer of many years' service -who had never been to blame, might be held responsible at headquarters -for negligence or inefficiency so staggered him that, forgetting the -recalcitrant cavalry colonel, his own dignity as a general, and -above all quite forgetting the danger and all regard for -self-preservation, he clutched the crupper of his saddle and, spurring -his horse, galloped to the regiment under a hail of bullets which fell -around, but fortunately missed him. His one desire was to know what -was happening and at any cost correct, or remedy, the mistake if he -had made one, so that he, an exemplary officer of twenty-two years' -service, who had never been censured, should not be held to blame. - -Having galloped safely through the French, he reached a field behind -the copse across which our men, regardless of orders, were running and -descending the valley. That moment of moral hesitation which decides -the fate of battles had arrived. Would this disorderly crowd of -soldiers attend to the voice of their commander, or would they, -disregarding him, continue their flight? Despite his desperate -shouts that used to seem so terrible to the soldiers, despite his -furious purple countenance distorted out of all likeness to his former -self, and the flourishing of his saber, the soldiers all continued -to run, talking, firing into the air, and disobeying orders. The moral -hesitation which decided the fate of battles was evidently culminating -in a panic. - -The general had a fit of coughing as a result of shouting and of the -powder smoke and stopped in despair. Everything seemed lost. But at -that moment the French who were attacking, suddenly and without any -apparent reason, ran back and disappeared from the outskirts, and -Russian sharpshooters showed themselves in the copse. It was -Timokhin's company, which alone had maintained its order in the wood -and, having lain in ambush in a ditch, now attacked the French -unexpectedly. Timokhin, armed only with a sword, had rushed at the -enemy with such a desperate cry and such mad, drunken determination -that, taken by surprise, the French had thrown down their muskets -and run. Dolokhov, running beside Timokhin, killed a Frenchman at -close quarters and was the first to seize the surrendering French -officer by his collar. Our fugitives returned, the battalions -re-formed, and the French who had nearly cut our left flank in half -were for the moment repulsed. Our reserve units were able to join -up, and the fight was at an end. The regimental commander and Major -Ekonomov had stopped beside a bridge, letting the retreating companies -pass by them, when a soldier came up and took hold of the -commander's stirrup, almost leaning against him. The man was wearing a -bluish coat of broadcloth, he had no knapsack or cap, his head was -bandaged, and over his shoulder a French munition pouch was slung. -He had an officer's sword in his hand. The soldier was pale, his -blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face, and his lips -were smiling. Though the commander was occupied in giving instructions -to Major Ekonomov, he could not help taking notice of the soldier. - -"Your excellency, here are two trophies," said Dolokhov, pointing to -the French sword and pouch. "I have taken an officer prisoner. I -stopped the company." Dolokhov breathed heavily from weariness and -spoke in abrupt sentences. "The whole company can bear witness. I -beg you will remember this, your excellency!" - -"All right, all right," replied the commander, and turned to Major -Ekonomov. - -But Dolokhov did not go away; he untied the handkerchief around -his head, pulled it off, and showed the blood congealed on his hair. - -"A bayonet wound. I remained at the front. Remember, your -excellency!" - -Tushin's battery had been forgotten and only at the very end of -the action did Prince Bagration, still hearing the cannonade in the -center, send his orderly staff officer, and later Prince Andrew -also, to order the battery to retire as quickly as possible. When -the supports attached to Tushin's battery had been moved away in the -middle of the action by someone's order, the battery had continued -firing and was only not captured by the French because the enemy could -not surmise that anyone could have the effrontery to continue firing -from four quite undefended guns. On the contrary, the energetic action -of that battery led the French to suppose that here- in the center- -the main Russian forces were concentrated. Twice they had attempted to -attack this point, but on each occasion had been driven back by -grapeshot from the four isolated guns on the hillock. - -Soon after Prince Bagration had left him, Tushin had succeeded in -setting fire to Schon Grabern. - -"Look at them scurrying! It's burning! Just see the smoke! Fine! -Grand! Look at the smoke, the smoke!" exclaimed the artillerymen, -brightening up. - -All the guns, without waiting for orders, were being fired in the -direction of the conflagration. As if urging each other on, the -soldiers cried at each shot: "Fine! That's good! Look at it... Grand!" -The fire, fanned by the breeze, was rapidly spreading. The French -columns that had advanced beyond the village went back; but as -though in revenge for this failure, the enemy placed ten guns to the -right of the village and began firing them at Tushin's battery. - -In their childlike glee, aroused by the fire and their luck in -successfully cannonading the French, our artillerymen only noticed -this battery when two balls, and then four more, fell among our -guns, one knocking over two horses and another tearing off a -munition-wagon driver's leg. Their spirits once roused were, -however, not diminished, but only changed character. The horses were -replaced by others from a reserve gun carriage, the wounded were -carried away, and the four guns were turned against the ten-gun -battery. Tushin's companion officer had been killed at the beginning -of the engagement and within an hour seventeen of the forty men of the -guns' crews had been disabled, but the artillerymen were still as -merry and lively as ever. Twice they noticed the French appearing -below them, and then they fired grapeshot at them. - -Little Tushin, moving feebly and awkwardly, kept telling his orderly -to "refill my pipe for that one!" and then, scattering sparks from it, -ran forward shading his eyes with his small hand to look at the -French. - -"Smack at 'em, lads!" he kept saying, seizing the guns by the wheels -and working the screws himself. - -Amid the smoke, deafened by the incessant reports which always -made him jump, Tushin not taking his pipe from his mouth ran from -gun to gun, now aiming, now counting the charges, now giving orders -about replacing dead or wounded horses and harnessing fresh ones, -and shouting in his feeble voice, so high pitched and irresolute. -His face grew more and more animated. Only when a man was killed or -wounded did he frown and turn away from the sight, shouting angrily at -the men who, as is always the case, hesitated about lifting the -injured or dead. The soldiers, for the most part handsome fellows and, -as is always the case in an artillery company, a head and shoulders -taller and twice as broad as their officer- all looked at their -commander like children in an embarrassing situation, and the -expression on his face was invariably reflected on theirs. - -Owing to the terrible uproar and the necessity for concentration and -activity, Tushin did not experience the slightest unpleasant sense -of fear, and the thought that he might be killed or badly wounded -never occurred to him. On the contrary, he became more and more -elated. It seemed to him that it was a very long time ago, almost a -day, since he had first seen the enemy and fired the first shot, and -that the corner of the field he stood on was well-known and familiar -ground. Though he thought of everything, considered everything, and -did everything the best of officers could do in his position, he was -in a state akin to feverish delirium or drunkenness. - -From the deafening sounds of his own guns around him, the whistle -and thud of the enemy's cannon balls, from the flushed and -perspiring faces of the crew bustling round the guns, from the sight -of the blood of men and horses, from the little puffs of smoke on -the enemy's side (always followed by a ball flying past and striking -the earth, a man, a gun, a horse), from the sight of all these -things a fantastic world of his own had taken possession of his -brain and at that moment afforded him pleasure. The enemy's guns -were in his fancy not guns but pipes from which occasional puffs -were blown by an invisible smoker. - -"There... he's puffing again," muttered Tushin to himself, as a -small cloud rose from the hill and was borne in a streak to the left -by the wind. - -"Now look out for the ball... we'll throw it back." - -"What do you want, your honor?" asked an artilleryman, standing -close by, who heard him muttering. - -"Nothing... only a shell..." he answered. - -"Come along, our Matvevna!" he said to himself. "Matvevna"~{ Daughter of Matthew. }~ was -the name his fancy gave to the farthest gun of the battery, which -was large and of an old pattern. The French swarming round their -guns seemed to him like ants. In that world, the handsome drunkard -Number One of the second gun's crew was "uncle"; Tushin looked at -him more often than at anyone else and took delight in his every -movement. The sound of musketry at the foot of the hill, now -diminishing, now increasing, seemed like someone's breathing. He -listened intently to the ebb and flow of these sounds. - -"Ah! Breathing again, breathing!" he muttered to himself. - -He imagined himself as an enormously tall, powerful man who was -throwing cannon balls at the French with both hands. - -"Now then, Matvevna, dear old lady, don't let me down!" he was -saying as he moved from the gun, when a strange, unfamiliar voice -called above his head: "Captain Tushin! Captain!" - -Tushin turned round in dismay. It was the staff officer who had -turned him out of the booth at Grunth. He was shouting in a gasping -voice: - -"Are you mad? You have twice been ordered to retreat, and you..." - -"Why are they down on me?" thought Tushin, looking in alarm at his -superior. - -"I... don't..." he muttered, holding up two fingers to his cap. -"I..." - -But the staff officer did not finish what he wanted to say. A cannon -ball, flying close to him, caused him to duck and bend over his horse. -He paused, and just as he was about to say something more, another -ball stopped him. He turned his horse and galloped off. - -"Retire! All to retire!" he shouted from a distance. - -The soldiers laughed. A moment later, an adjutant arrived with the -same order. - -It was Prince Andrew. The first thing he saw on riding up to the -space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse with -a broken leg, that lay screaming piteously beside the harnessed -horses. Blood was gushing from its leg as from a spring. Among the -limbers lay several dead men. One ball after another passed over as he -approached and he felt a nervous shudder run down his spine. But the -mere thought of being afraid roused him again. "I cannot be afraid," -thought he, and dismounted slowly among the guns. He delivered the -order and did not leave the battery. He decided to have the guns -removed from their positions and withdrawn in his presence. Together -with Tushin, stepping across the bodies and under a terrible fire from -the French, he attended to the removal of the guns. - -"A staff officer was here a minute ago, but skipped off," said an -artilleryman to Prince Andrew. "Not like your honor!" - -Prince Andrew said nothing to Tushin. They were both so busy as to -seem not to notice one another. When having limbered up the only two -cannon that remained uninjured out of the four, they began moving down -the hill (one shattered gun and one unicorn were left behind), -Prince Andrew rode up to Tushin. - -"Well, till we meet again..." he said, holding out his hand to -Tushin. - -"Good-by, my dear fellow," said Tushin. "Dear soul! Good-by, my dear -fellow!" and for some unknown reason tears suddenly filled his eyes. - -CHAPTER XXI - -The wind had fallen and black clouds, merging with the powder smoke, -hung low over the field of battle on the horizon. It was growing -dark and the glow of two conflagrations was the more conspicuous. -The cannonade was dying down, but the rattle of musketry behind and on -the right sounded oftener and nearer. As soon as Tushin with his guns, -continually driving round or coming upon wounded men, was out of range -of fire and had descended into the dip, he was met by some of the -staff, among them the staff officer and Zherkov, who had been twice -sent to Tushin's battery but had never reached it. Interrupting one -another, they all gave, and transmitted, orders as to how to -proceed, reprimanding and reproaching him. Tushin gave no orders, and, -silently- fearing to speak because at every word he felt ready to weep -without knowing why- rode behind on his artillery nag. Though the -orders were to abandon the wounded, many of them dragged themselves -after troops and begged for seats on the gun carriages. The jaunty -infantry officer who just before the battle had rushed out of Tushin's -wattle shed was laid, with a bullet in his stomach, on "Matvevna's" -carriage. At the foot of the hill, a pale hussar cadet, supporting one -hand with the other, came up to Tushin and asked for a seat. - -"Captain, for God's sake! I've hurt my arm," he said timidly. "For -God's sake... I can't walk. For God's sake!" - -It was plain that this cadet had already repeatedly asked for a lift -and been refused. He asked in a hesitating, piteous voice. - -"Tell them to give me a seat, for God's sake!" - -"Give him a seat," said Tushin. "Lay a cloak for him to sit on, -lad," he said, addressing his favorite soldier. "And where is the -wounded officer?" - -"He has been set down. He died," replied someone. - -"Help him up. Sit down, dear fellow, sit down! Spread out the cloak, -Antonov." - -The cadet was Rostov. With one hand he supported the other; he was -pale and his jaw trembled, shivering feverishly. He was placed on -"Matvevna," the gun from which they had removed the dead officer. -The cloak they spread under him was wet with blood which stained his -breeches and arm. - -"What, are you wounded, my lad?" said Tushin, approaching the gun on -which Rostov sat. - -"No, it's a sprain." - -"Then what is this blood on the gun carriage?" inquired Tushin. - -"It was the officer, your honor, stained it," answered the -artilleryman, wiping away the blood with his coat sleeve, as if -apologizing for the state of his gun. - -It was all that they could do to get the guns up the rise aided by -the infantry, and having reached the village of Gruntersdorf they -halted. It had grown so dark that one could not distinguish the -uniforms ten paces off, and the firing had begun to subside. Suddenly, -near by on the right, shouting and firing were again heard. Flashes of -shot gleamed in the darkness. This was the last French attack and -was met by soldiers who had sheltered in the village houses. They -all rushed out of the village again, but Tushin's guns could not move, -and the artillerymen, Tushin, and the cadet exchanged silent glances -as they awaited their fate. The firing died down and soldiers, talking -eagerly, streamed out of a side street. - -"Not hurt, Petrov?" asked one. - -"We've given it 'em hot, mate! They won't make another push now," -said another. - -"You couldn't see a thing. How they shot at their own fellows! -Nothing could be seen. Pitch-dark, brother! Isn't there something to -drink?" - -The French had been repulsed for the last time. And again and -again in the complete darkness Tushin's guns moved forward, surrounded -by the humming infantry as by a frame. - -In the darkness, it seemed as though a gloomy unseen river was -flowing always in one direction, humming with whispers and talk and -the sound of hoofs and wheels. Amid the general rumble, the groans and -voices of the wounded were more distinctly heard than any other -sound in the darkness of the night. The gloom that enveloped the -army was filled with their groans, which seemed to melt into one -with the darkness of the night. After a while the moving mass became -agitated, someone rode past on a white horse followed by his suite, -and said something in passing: "What did he say? Where to, now? -Halt, is it? Did he thank us?" came eager questions from all sides. -The whole moving mass began pressing closer together and a report -spread that they were ordered to halt: evidently those in front had -halted. All remained where they were in the middle of the muddy road. - -Fires were lighted and the talk became more audible. Captain Tushin, -having given orders to his company, sent a soldier to find a -dressing station or a doctor for the cadet, and sat down by a -bonfire the soldiers had kindled on the road. Rostov, too, dragged -himself to the fire. From pain, cold, and damp, a feverish shivering -shook his whole body. Drowsiness was irresistibly mastering him, but -he kept awake kept awake by an excruciating pain in his arm, for which -he could find no satisfactory position. He kept closing his eyes and -then again looking at the fire, which seemed to him dazzlingly red, -and at the feeble, round-shouldered figure of Tushin who was sitting -cross-legged like a Turk beside him. Tushin's large, kind, intelligent -eyes were fixed with sympathy and commiseration on Rostov, who saw -that Tushin with his whole heart wished to help him but could not. - -From all sides were heard the footsteps and talk of the infantry, -who were walking, driving past, and settling down all around. The -sound of voices, the tramping feet, the horses' hoofs moving in mud, -the crackling of wood fires near and afar, merged into one tremulous -rumble. - -It was no longer, as before, a dark, unseen river flowing through -the gloom, but a dark sea swelling and gradually subsiding after a -storm. Rostov looked at and listened listlessly to what passed -before and around him. An infantryman came to the fire, squatted on -his heels, held his hands to the blaze, and turned away his face. - -"You don't mind your honor?" he asked Tushin. "I've lost my company, -your honor. I don't know where... such bad luck!" - -With the soldier, an infantry officer with a bandaged cheek came -up to the bonfire, and addressing Tushin asked him to have the guns -moved a trifle to let a wagon go past. After he had gone, two soldiers -rushed to the campfire. They were quarreling and fighting desperately, -each trying to snatch from the other a boot they were both holding -on to. - -"You picked it up?... I dare say! You're very smart!" one of them -shouted hoarsely. - -Then a thin, pale soldier, his neck bandaged with a bloodstained leg -band, came up and in angry tones asked the artillerymen for water. - -"Must one die like a dog?" said he. - -Tushin told them to give the man some water. Then a cheerful soldier -ran up, begging a little fire for the infantry. - -"A nice little hot torch for the infantry! Good luck to you, -fellow countrymen. Thanks for the fire- we'll return it with -interest," said he, carrying away into the darkness a glowing stick. - -Next came four soldiers, carrying something heavy on a cloak, and -passed by the fire. One of them stumbled. - -"Who the devil has put the logs on the road?" snarled he. - -"He's dead- why carry him?" said another. - -"Shut up!" - -And they disappeared into the darkness with with their load. - -"Still aching?" Tushin asked Rostov in a whisper. - -"Yes." - -"Your honor, you're wanted by the general. He is in the hut here," -said a gunner, coming up to Tushin. - -"Coming, friend." - -Tushin rose and, buttoning his greatcoat and pulling it straight, -walked away from the fire. - -Not far from the artillery campfire, in a hut that had been prepared -for him, Prince Bagration sat at dinner, talking with some -commanding officers who had gathered at his quarters. The little old -man with the half-closed eyes was there greedily gnawing a mutton -bone, and the general who had served blamelessly for twenty-two years, -flushed by a glass of vodka and the dinner; and the staff officer with -the signet ring, and Zherkov, uneasily glancing at them all, and -Prince Andrew, pale, with compressed lips and feverishly glittering -eyes. - -In a corner of the hut stood a standard captured from the French, -and the accountant with the naive face was feeling its texture, -shaking his head in perplexity- perhaps because the banner really -interested him, perhaps because it was hard for him, hungry as he was, -to look on at a dinner where there was no place for him. In the next -hut there was a French colonel who had been taken prisoner by our -dragoons. Our officers were flocking in to look at him. Prince -Bagration was thanking the individual commanders and inquiring into -details of the action and our losses. The general whose regiment had -been inspected at Braunau was informing the prince that as soon as the -action began he had withdrawn from the wood, mustered the men who were -woodcutting, and, allowing the French to pass him, had made a -bayonet charge with two battalions and had broken up the French -troops. - -"When I saw, your excellency, that their first battalion was -disorganized, I stopped in the road and thought: 'I'll let them come -on and will meet them with the fire of the whole battalion'- and -that's what I did." - -The general had so wished to do this and was so sorry he had not -managed to do it that it seemed to him as if it had really happened. -Perhaps it might really have been so? Could one possibly make out amid -all that confusion what did or did not happen? - -"By the way, your excellency, I should inform you," he continued- -remembering Dolokhov's conversation with Kutuzov and his last -interview with the gentleman-ranker- "that Private Dolokhov, who was -reduced to the ranks, took a French officer prisoner in my presence -and particularly distinguished himself." - -"I saw the Pavlograd hussars attack there, your excellency," -chimed in Zherkov, looking uneasily around. He had not seen the -hussars all that day, but had heard about them from an infantry -officer. "They broke up two squares, your excellency." - -Several of those present smiled at Zherkov's words, expecting one of -his usual jokes, but noticing that what he was saying redounded to the -glory of our arms and of the day's work, they assumed a serious -expression, though many of them knew that what he was saying was a lie -devoid of any foundation. Prince Bagration turned to the old colonel: - -"Gentlemen, I thank you all; all arms have behaved heroically: -infantry, cavalry, and artillery. How was it that two guns were -abandoned in the center?" he inquired, searching with his eyes for -someone. (Prince Bagration did not ask about the guns on the left -flank; he knew that all the guns there had been abandoned at the -very beginning of the action.) "I think I sent you?" he added, turning -to the staff officer on duty. - -"One was damaged," answered the staff officer, "and the other I -can't understand. I was there all the time giving orders and had -only just left.... It is true that it was hot there," he added, -modestly. - -Someone mentioned that Captain Tushin was bivouacking close to the -village and had already been sent for. - -"Oh, but you were there?" said Prince Bagration, addressing Prince -Andrew. - -"Of course, we only just missed one another," said the staff -officer, with a smile to Bolkonski. - -"I had not the pleasure of seeing you," said Prince Andrew, coldly -and abruptly. - -All were silent. Tushin appeared at the threshold and made his way -timidly from behind the backs of the generals. As he stepped past -the generals in the crowded hut, feeling embarrassed as he always -was by the sight of his superiors, he did not notice the staff of -the banner and stumbled over it. Several of those present laughed. - -"How was it a gun was abandoned?" asked Bagration, frowning, not -so much at the captain as at those who were laughing, among whom -Zherkov laughed loudest. - -Only now, when he was confronted by the stern authorities, did his -guilt and the disgrace of having lost two guns and yet remaining alive -present themselves to Tushin in all their horror. He had been so -excited that he had not thought about it until that moment. The -officers' laughter confused him still more. He stood before -Bagration with his lower jaw trembling and was hardly able to -mutter: "I don't know... your excellency... I had no men... your -excellency." - -"You might have taken some from the covering troops." - -Tushin did not say that there were no covering troops, though that -was perfectly true. He was afraid of getting some other officer into -trouble, and silently fixed his eyes on Bagration as a schoolboy who -has blundered looks at an examiner. - -The silence lasted some time. Prince Bagration, apparently not -wishing to be severe, found nothing to say; the others did not venture -to intervene. Prince Andrew looked at Tushin from under his brows -and his fingers twitched nervously. - -"Your excellency!" Prince Andrew broke the silence with his abrupt -voice," you were pleased to send me to Captain Tushin's battery. I -went there and found two thirds of the men and horses knocked out, two -guns smashed, and no supports at all." - -Prince Bagration and Tushin looked with equal intentness at -Bolkonski, who spoke with suppressed agitation. - -"And, if your excellency will allow me to express my opinion," he -continued, "we owe today's success chiefly to the action of that -battery and the heroic endurance of Captain Tushin and his company," -and without awaiting a reply, Prince Andrew rose and left the table. - -Prince Bagration looked at Tushin, evidently reluctant to show -distrust in Bolkonski's emphatic opinion yet not feeling able fully to -credit it, bent his head, and told Tushin that he could go. Prince -Andrew went out with him. - -"Thank you; you saved me, my dear fellow!" said Tushin. - -Prince Andrew gave him a look, but said nothing and went away. He -felt sad and depressed. It was all so strange, so unlike what he had -hoped. - -"Who are they? Why are they here? What do they want? And when will -all this end?" thought Rostov, looking at the changing shadows -before him. The pain in his arm became more and more intense. -Irresistible drowsiness overpowered him, red rings danced before his -eyes, and the impression of those voices and faces and a sense of -loneliness merged with the physical pain. It was they, these soldiers- -wounded and unwounded- it was they who were crushing, weighing down, -and twisting the sinews and scorching the flesh of his sprained arm -and shoulder. To rid himself of them he closed his eyes. - -For a moment he dozed, but in that short interval innumerable things -appeared to him in a dream: his mother and her large white hand, -Sonya's thin little shoulders, Natasha's eyes and laughter, Denisov -with his voice and mustache, and Telyanin and all that affair with -Telyanin and Bogdanich. That affair was the same thing as this soldier -with the harsh voice, and it was that affair and this soldier that -were so agonizingly, incessantly pulling and pressing his arm and -always dragging it in one direction. He tried to get away from them, -but they would not for an instant let his shoulder move a hair's -breadth. It would not ache- it would be well- if only they did not -pull it, but it was immpossible to get rid of them. - -He opened his eyes and looked up. The black canopy of night hung -less than a yard above the glow of the charcoal. Flakes of falling -snow were fluttering in that light. Tushin had not returned, the -doctor had not come. He was alone now, except for a soldier who was -sitting naked at the other side of the fire, warming his thin yellow -body. - -"Nobody wants me!" thought Rostov. "There is no one to help me or -pity me. Yet I was once at home, strong, happy, and loved." He -sighed and, doing so, groaned involuntarily. - -"Eh, is anything hurting you?" asked the soldier, shaking his -shirt out over the fire, and not waiting for an answer he gave a grunt -and added: "What a lot of men have been crippled today- frightful!" - -Rostov did not listen to the soldier. He looked at the snowflakes -fluttering above the fire and remembered a Russian winter at his warm, -bright home, his fluffy fur coat, his quickly gliding sleigh, his -healthy body, and all the affection and care of his family. "And why -did I come here?" he wondered. - -Next day the French army did not renew their attack, and the remnant -of Bagration's detachment was reunited to Kutuzov's army. - -BOOK THREE: 1805 - -CHAPTER I - -Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out his -plans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his own -advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whom -getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which he -never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole -interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his -mind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of these -plans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some only -beginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement, and some -in course of disintegration. He did not, for instance, say to himself: -"This man now has influence, I must gain his confidence and friendship -and through him obtain a special grant." Nor did he say to himself: -"Pierre is a rich man, I must entice him to marry my daughter and lend -me the forty thousand rubles I need." But when he came across came -across a man of position his instinct immediately told him that this -man could be useful, and without any premeditation Prince Vasili - -took the first opportunity to gain his confidence, flatter him, become -intimate with him, and finally make his request. - -He had Pierre at hand in Moscow and procured for him an -appointment as Gentleman of the Bedchamber, which at that time -conferred the status of Councilor of State, and insisted on the -young man accompanying him to Petersburg and staying at his house. -With apparent absent-mindedness, yet with unhesitating assurance -that he was doing the right thing, Prince Vasili did everything to get -Pierre to marry his daughter. Had he thought out his plans -beforehand he could not have been so natural and shown such unaffected -familiarity in intercourse with everybody both above and below him -in social standing. Something always drew him toward those richer -and more powerful than himself and he had rare skill in seizing the -most opportune moment for making use of people. - -Pierre, on unexpectedly becoming Count Bezukhov and a rich man, felt -himself after his recent loneliness and freedom from cares so beset -and preoccupied that only in bed was he able to be by himself. He -had to sign papers, to present himself at government offices, the -purpose of which was not clear to him, to question his chief -steward, to visit his estate near Moscow, and to receive many people -who formerly did not even wish to know of his existence but would -now have been offended and grieved had he chosen not to see them. -These different people- businessmen, relations, and acquaintances -alike- were all disposed to treat the young heir in the most -friendly and flattering manner: they were all evidently firmly -convinced of Pierre's noble qualities. He was always hearing such -words as: "With your remarkable kindness," or, "With your excellent -heart," "You are yourself so honorable Count," or, "Were he as -clever as you," and so on, till he began sincerely to believe in his -own exceptional kindness and extraordinary intelligence, the more so -as in the depth of his heart it had always seemed to him that he -really was very kind and intelligent. Even people who had formerly -been spiteful toward him and evidently unfriendly now became gentle -and affectionate. The angry eldest princess, with the long waist and -hair plastered down like a doll's, had come into Pierre's room after -the funeral. With drooping eyes and frequent blushes she told him -she was very sorry about their past misunderstandings and did not -now feel she had a right to ask him for anything, except only for -permission, after the blow she had received, to remain for a few weeks -longer in the house she so loved and where she had sacrificed so much. -She could not refrain from weeping at these words. Touched that this -statuesque princess could so change, Pierre took her hand and begged -her forgiveness, without knowing what for. From that day the eldest -princess quite changed toward Pierre and began knitting a striped -scarf for him. - -"Do this for my sake, mon cher; after all, she had to put up with -a great deal from the deceased," said Prince Vasili to him, handing -him a deed to sign for the princess' benefit. - -Prince Vasili had come to the conclusion that it was necessary to -throw this bone- a bill for thirty thousand rubles- to the poor -princess that it might not occur to her to speak of his share in the -affair of the inlaid portfolio. Pierre signed the deed and after -that the princess grew still kinder. The younger sisters also became -affectionate to him, especially the youngest, the pretty one with -the mole, who often made him feel confused by her smiles and her own -confusion when meeting him. - -It seemed so natural to Pierre that everyone should like him, and it -would have seemed so unnatural had anyone disliked him, that he -could not but believe in the sincerity of those around him. Besides, -he had no time to ask himself whether these people were sincere or -not. He was always busy and always felt in a state of mild and -cheerful intoxication. He felt as though he were the center of some -important and general movement; that something was constantly expected -of him, that if he did not do it he would grieve and disappoint many -people, but if he did this and that, all would be well; and he did -what was demanded of him, but still that happy result always -remained in the future. - -More than anyone else, Prince Vasili took possession of Pierre's -affairs and of Pierre himself in those early days. From the death of -Count Bezukhov he did not let go his hold of the lad. He had the air -of a man oppressed by business, weary and suffering, who yet would -not, for pity's sake, leave this helpless youth who, after all, was -the son of his old friend and the possessor of such enormous wealth, -to the caprice of fate and the designs of rogues. During the few -days he spent in Moscow after the death of Count Bezukhov, he would -call Pierre, or go to him himself, and tell him what ought to be -done in a tone of weariness and assurance, as if he were adding -every time: "You know I am overwhelmed with business and it is -purely out of charity that I trouble myself about you, and you also -know quite well that what I propose is the only thing possible." - -"Well, my dear fellow, tomorrow we are off at last," said Prince -Vasili one day, closing his eyes and fingering Pierre's elbow, -speaking as if he were saying something which had long since been -agreed upon and could not now be altered. "We start tomorrow and I'm -giving you a place in my carriage. I am very glad. All our important -business here is now settled, and I ought to have been off long ago. -Here is something I have received from the chancellor. I asked him for -you, and you have been entered in the diplomatic corps and made a -Gentleman of the Bedchamber. The diplomatic career now lies open -before you." - -Notwithstanding the tone of wearied assurance with which these words -were pronounced, Pierre, who had so long been considering his -career, wished to make some suggestion. But Prince Vasili -interrupted him in the special deep cooing tone, precluding the -possibility of interrupting his speech, which he used in extreme cases -when special persuasion was needed. - -"Mais, mon cher, I did this for my own sake, to satisfy my -conscience, and there is nothing to thank me for. No one has ever -complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you -could throw it up tomorrow. But you will see everything for yourself -when you get to Petersburg. It is high time for you to get away from -these terrible recollections." Prince Vasili sighed. "Yes, yes, my -boy. And my valet can go in your carriage. Ah! I was nearly -forgetting," he added. "You know, mon cher, your father and I had some -accounts to settle, so I have received what was due from the Ryazan -estate and will keep it; you won't require it. We'll go into the -accounts later." - -By "what was due from the Ryazan estate" Prince Vasili meant several -thousand rubles quitrent received from Pierre's peasants, which the -prince had retained for himself. - -In Petersburg, as in Moscow, Pierre found the same atmosphere of -gentleness and affection. He could not refuse the post, or rather -the rank (for he did nothing), that Prince Vasili had procured for - -him, and acquaintances, invitations, and social occupations were so -numerous that, even more than in Moscow, he felt a sense of -bewilderment, bustle, and continual expectation of some good, always -in front of him but never attained. - -Of his former bachelor acquaintances many were no longer in -Petersburg. The Guards had gone to the front; Dolokhov had been -reduced to the ranks; Anatole was in the army somewhere in the -provinces; Prince Andrew was abroad; so Pierre had not the opportunity -to spend his nights as he used to like to spend them, or to open his -mind by intimate talks with a friend older than himself and whom he -respected. His whole time was taken up with dinners and balls and -was spent chiefly at Prince Vasili's house in the company of the stout -princess, his wife, and his beautiful daughter Helene. - -Like the others, Anna Pavlovna Scherer showed Pierre the change of -attitude toward him that had taken place in society. - -Formerly in Anna Pavlovna's presence, Pierre had always felt that -what he was saying was out of place, tactless and unsuitable, that -remarks which seemed to him clever while they formed in his mind -became foolish as soon as he uttered them, while on the contrary -Hippolyte's stupidest remarks came out clever and apt. Now -everything Pierre said was charmant. Even if Anna Pavlovna did not say -so, he could see that she wished to and only refrained out of regard -for his modesty. - -In the beginning of the winter of 1805-6 Pierre received one of Anna -Pavlovna's usual pink notes with an invitation to which was added: -"You will find the beautiful Helene here, whom it is always delightful -to see." - -When he read that sentence, Pierre felt for the first time that some -link which other people recognized had grown up between himself and -Helene, and that thought both alarmed him, as if some obligation -were being imposed on him which he could not fulfill, and pleased -him as an entertaining supposition. - -Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" was like the former one, only the -novelty she offered her guests this time was not Mortemart, but a -diplomatist fresh from Berlin with the very latest details of the -Emperor Alexander's visit to Potsdam, and of how the two august -friends had pledged themselves in an indissoluble alliance to uphold -the cause of justice against the enemy of the human race. Anna -Pavlovna received Pierre with a shade of melancholy, evidently -relating to the young man's recent loss by the death of Count Bezukhov -(everyone constantly considered it a duty to assure Pierre that he was -greatly afflicted by the death of the father he had hardly known), and -her melancholy was just like the august melancholy she showed at the -mention of her most august Majesty the Empress Marya Fedorovna. Pierre -felt flattered by this. Anna Pavlovna arranged the different groups in -her drawing room with her habitual skill. The large group, in which -were Prince Vasili and the generals, had the benefit of the -diplomat. Another group was at the tea table. Pierre wished to join -the former, but Anna Pavlovna- who was in the excited condition of a -commander on a battlefield to whom thousands of new and brilliant -ideas occur which there is hardly time to put in action- seeing -Pierre, touched his sleeve with her finger, saying: - -"Wait a bit, I have something in view for you this evening." (She -glanced at Helene and smiled at her.) "My dear Helene, be charitable -to my poor aunt who adores you. Go and keep her company for ten -minutes. And that it will not be too dull, here is the dear count -who will not refuse to accompany you." - -The beauty went to the aunt, but Anna Pavlovna detained Pierre, -looking as if she had to give some final necessary instructions. - -"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Pierre, pointing to the stately -beauty as she glided away. "And how she carries herself! For so -young a girl, such tact, such masterly perfection of manner! It -comes from her heart. Happy the man who wins her! With her the least -worldly of men would occupy a most brilliant position in society. -Don't you think so? I only wanted to know your opinion," and Anna -Pavlovna let Pierre go. - -Pierre, in reply, sincerely agreed with her as to Helene's -perfection of manner. If he ever thought of Helene, it was just of her -beauty and her remarkable skill in appearing silently dignified in -society. - -The old aunt received the two young people in her corner, but seemed -desirous of hiding her adoration for Helene and inclined rather to -show her fear of Anna Pavlovna. She looked at her niece, as if -inquiring what she was to do with these people. On leaving them, -Anna Pavlovna again touched Pierre's sleeve, saying: "I hope you won't -say that it is dull in my house again," and she glanced at Helene. - -Helene smiled, with a look implying that she did not admit the -possibility of anyone seeing her without being enchanted. The aunt -coughed, swallowed, and said in French that she was very pleased to -see Helene, then she turned to Pierre with the same words of welcome -and the same look. In the middle of a dull and halting conversation, -Helene turned to Pierre with the beautiful bright smile that she -gave to everyone. Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had so -little meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. The aunt -was just speaking of a collection of snuffboxes that had belonged to -Pierre's father, Count Bezukhov, and showed them her own box. Princess -Helene asked to see the portrait of the aunt's husband on the box lid. - -"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning a -celebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take the -snuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table. - -He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him the -snuffbox, passing it across Helene's back. Helene stooped forward to -make room, and looked round with a smile. She was, as always at -evening parties, wearing a dress such as was then fashionable, cut -very low at front and back. Her bust, which had always seemed like -marble to Pierre, was so close to him that his shortsighted eyes could -not but perceive the living charm of her neck and shoulders, so near -to his lips that he need only have bent his head a little to have -touched them. He was conscious of the warmth of her body, the scent of -perfume, and the creaking of her corset as she moved. He did not see -her marble beauty forming a complete whole with her dress, but all the -charm of her body only covered by her garments. And having once seen -this he could not help being aware it, just as we cannot renew an -illusion we have once seen through. - -"So you have never noticed before how beautiful I am?" Helene seemed -to say. "You had not noticed that I am a woman? Yes, I am a woman -who may belong to anyone- to you too," said her glance. And at that -moment Pierre felt that Helene not only could, but must, be his -wife, and that it could not be otherwise. - -He knew this at that moment as surely as if he had been standing -at the altar with her. How and when this would be he did not know, -he did not even know if it would be a good thing (he even felt, he -knew not why, that it would be a bad thing), but he knew it would -happen. - -Pierre dropped his eyes, lifted them again, and wished once more -to see her as a distant beauty far removed from him, as he had seen -her every day until then, but he could no longer do it. He could -not, any more than a man who has been looking at a tuft of steppe -grass through the mist and taking it for a tree can again take it -for a tree after he has once recognized it to be a tuft of grass. -She was terribly close to him. She already had power over him, and -between them there was no longer any barrier except the barrier of his -own will. - -"Well, I will leave you in your little corner," came Anna Pavlovna's -voice, "I see you are all right there." - -And Pierre, anxiously trying to remember whether he had done -anything reprehensible, looked round with a blush. It seemed to him -that everyone knew what had happened to him as he knew it himself. - -A little later when he went up to the large circle, Anna Pavlovna -said to him: "I hear you are refitting your Petersburg house?" - -This was true. The architect had told him that it was necessary, and -Pierre, without knowing why, was having his enormous Petersburg -house done up. - -"That's a good thing, but don't move from Prince Vasili's. It is -good to have a friend like the prince," she said, smiling at Prince -Vasili. "I know something about that. Don't I? And you are still so -young. You need advice. Don't be angry with me for exercising an old -woman's privilege." - -She paused, as women always do, expecting something after they -have mentioned their age. "If you marry it will be a different thing," -she continued, uniting them both in one glance. Pierre did not look at -Helene nor she at him. But she was just as terribly close to him. He -muttered something and colored. - -When he got home he could not sleep for a long time for thinking -of what had happened. What had happened? Nothing. He had merely -understood that the woman he had known as a child, of whom when her -beauty was mentioned he had said absent-mindedly: "Yes, she's good -looking," he had understood that this woman might belong to him. - -"But she's stupid. I have myself said she is stupid," he thought. -"There is something nasty, something wrong, in the feeling she excites -in me. I have been told that her brother Anatole was in love with -her and she with him, that there was quite a scandal and that that's -why he was sent away. Hippolyte is her brother... Prince Vasili is her -father... It's bad...." he reflected, but while he was thinking this -(the reflection was still incomplete), he caught himself smiling and -was conscious that another line of thought had sprung up, and while -thinking of her worthlessness he was also dreaming of how she would be -his wife, how she would love him become quite different, and how all -he had thought and heard of her might be false. And he again saw her -not as the daughter of Prince Vasili, but visualized her whole body -only veiled by its gray dress. "But no! Why did this thought never -occur to me before?" and again he told himself that it was impossible, -that there would be something unnatural, and as it seemed to him -dishonorable, in this marriage. He recalled her former words and looks -and the words and looks of those who had seen them together. He -recalled Anna Pavlovna's words and looks when she spoke to him about -his house, recalled thousands of such hints from Prince Vasili and -others, and was seized by terror lest he had already, in some way, -bound himself to do something that was evidently wrong and that he -ought not to do. But at the very time he was expressing this -conviction to himself, in another part of his mind her image rose in -all its womanly beauty. - -CHAPTER II - -In November, 1805, Prince Vasili had to go on a tour of inspection -in four different provinces. He had arranged this for himself so as to -visit his neglected estates at the same time and pick up his son -Anatole where his regiment was stationed, and take him to visit Prince -Nicholas Bolkonski in order to arrange a match for him with the -daughter of that rich old man. But before leaving home and undertaking -these new affairs, Prince Vasili had to settle matters with Pierre, -who, it is true, had latterly spent whole days at home, that is, in -Prince Vasili's house where he was staying, and had been absurd, -excited, and foolish in Helene's presence (as a lover should be), -but had not yet proposed to her. - -"This is all very fine, but things must be settled," said Prince -Vasili to himself, with a sorrowful sigh, one morning, feeling that -Pierre who was under such obligations to him ("But never mind that") -was not behaving very well in this matter. "Youth, frivolity... -well, God be with him," thought he, relishing his own goodness of -heart, "but it must be brought to a head. The day after tomorrow -will be Lelya's name day. I will invite two or three people, and if he -does not understand what he ought to do then it will be my affair- -yes, my affair. I am her father." - -Six weeks after Anna Pavlovna's "At Home" and after the sleepless -night when he had decided that to marry Helene would be a calamity and -that he ought to avoid her and go away, Pierre, despite that decision, -had not left Prince Vasili's and felt with terror that in people's -eyes he was every day more and more connected with her, that it was -impossible for him to return to his former conception of her, that -he could not break away from her, and that though it would be a -terrible thing he would have to unite his fate with hers. He might -perhaps have been able to free himself but that Prince Vasili (who had -rarely before given receptions) now hardly let a day go by without -having an evening party at which Pierre had to be present unless he -wished to spoil the general pleasure and disappoint everyone's -expectation. Prince Vasili, in the rare moments when he was at home, -would take Pierre's hand in passing and draw it downwards, or -absent-mindedly hold out his wrinkled, clean-shaven cheek for Pierre -to kiss and would say: "Till tomorrow," or, "Be in to dinner or I -shall not see you," or, "I am staying in for your sake," and so on. -And though Prince Vasili, when he stayed in (as he said) for -Pierre's sake, hardly exchanged a couple of words with him, Pierre -felt unable to disappoint him. Every day he said to himself one and -the same thing: "It is time I understood her and made up my mind -what she really is. Was I mistaken before, or am I mistaken now? No, -she is not stupid, she is an excellent girl," he sometimes said to -himself "she never makes a mistake, never says anything stupid. She -says little, but what she does say is always clear and simple, so -she is not stupid. She never was abashed and is not abashed now, so -she cannot be a bad woman!" He had often begun to make reflections -or think aloud in her company, and she had always answered him -either by a brief but appropriate remark- showing that it did not -interest her- or by a silent look and smile which more palpably than -anything else showed Pierre her superiority. She was right in -regarding all arguments as nonsense in comparison with that smile. - -She always addressed him with a radiantly confiding smile meant -for him alone, in which there was something more significant than in -the general smile that usually brightened her face. Pierre knew that -everyone was waiting for him to say a word and cross a certain line, -and he knew that sooner or later he would step across it, but an -incomprehensible terror seized him at the thought of that dreadful -step. A thousand times during that month and a half while he felt -himself drawn nearer and nearer to that dreadful abyss, Pierre said to -himself: "What am I doing? I need resolution. Can it be that I have -none?" - -He wished to take a decision, but felt with dismay that in this -matter he lacked that strength of will which he had known in himself -and really possessed. Pierre was one of those who are only strong when -they feel themselves quite innocent, and since that day when he was -overpowered by a feeling of desire while stooping over the snuffbox at -Anna Pavlovna's, an unacknowledged sense of the guilt of that desire -paralyzed his will. - -On Helene's name day, a small party of just their own people- as his -wife said- met for supper at Prince Vasili's. All these friends and -relations had been given to understand that the fate of the young girl -would be decided that evening. The visitors were seated at supper. -Princess Kuragina, a portly imposing woman who had once been handsome, -was sitting at the head of the table. On either side of her sat the -more important guests- an old general and his wife, and Anna -Pavlovna Scherer. At the other end sat the younger and less -important guests, and there too sat the members of the family, and -Pierre and Helene, side by side. Prince Vasili was not having any -supper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now by -one, now by another, of the guests. To each of them he made some -careless and agreeable remark except to Pierre and Helene, whose -presence he seemed not to notice. He enlivened the whole party. The -wax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so did -the ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets; -servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter of -plates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of several -conversations. At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was -heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at -which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the -misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other. At the center of the -table, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention. With a facetious -smile on his face, he was telling the ladies about last Wednesday's -meeting of the Imperial Council, at which Sergey Kuzmich -Vyazmitinov, the new military governor general of Petersburg, had -received and read the then famous rescript of the Emperor Alexander -from the army to Sergey Kuzmich, in which the Emperor said that he was -receiving from all sides declarations of the people's loyalty, that -the declaration from Petersburg gave him particular pleasure, and that -he was proud to be at the head of such a nation and would endeavor -to be worthy of it. This rescript began with the words: "Sergey -Kuzmich, From all sides reports reach me," etc. - -"Well, and so he never got farther than: 'Sergey Kuzmich'?" asked -one of the ladies. - -"Exactly, not a hair's breadth farther," answered Prince Vasili, -laughing, "'Sergey Kuzmich... From all sides... From all sides... -Sergey Kuzmich...' Poor Vyazmitinov could not get any farther! He -began the rescript again and again, but as soon as he uttered 'Sergey' -he sobbed, 'Kuz-mi-ch,' tears, and 'From all sides' was smothered in -sobs and he could get no farther. And again his handkerchief, and -again: 'Sergey Kuzmich, From all sides,'... and tears, till at last -somebody else was asked to read it." - -"Kuzmich... From all sides... and then tears," someone repeated -laughing. - -"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the table -holding up a threatening finger. "He is such a worthy and excellent -man, our dear Vyazmitinov...." - -Everybody laughed a great deal. At the head of the table, where -the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and -under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations. Only Pierre -and Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of the -table, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile that -had nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich- a smile of bashfulness at their -own feelings. But much as all the rest laughed, talked, and joked, -much as they enjoyed their Rhine wine, saute, and ices, and however -they avoided looking at the young couple, and heedless and unobservant -as they seemed of them, one could feel by the occasional glances -they gave that the story about Sergey Kuzmich, the laughter, and the -food were all a pretense, and that the whole attention of that company -was directed to- Pierre and Helene. Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing -of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his -daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly -said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today." Anna -Pavlovna threatened him on behalf of "our dear Vyazmitinov," and in -her eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili read -a congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter's -happiness. The old princess sighed sadly as she offered some wine to -the old lady next to her and glanced angrily at her daughter, and -her sigh seemed to say: "Yes, there's nothing left for you and me -but to sip sweet wine, my dear, now that the time has come for these -young ones to be thus boldly, provocatively happy." "And what nonsense -all this is that I am saying!" thought a diplomatist, glancing at -the happy faces of the lovers. "That's happiness!" - -Into the insignificant, trifling, and artificial interests uniting -that society had entered the simple feeling of the attraction of a -healthy and handsome young man and woman for one another. And this -human feeling dominated everything else and soared above all their -affected chatter. Jests fell flat, news was not interesting, and the -animation was evidently forced. Not only the guests but even the -footmen waiting at table seemed to feel this, and they forgot their -duties as they looked at the beautiful Helene with her radiant face -and at the red, broad, and happy though uneasy face of Pierre. It -seemed as if the very light of the candles was focused on those two -happy faces alone. - -Pierre felt that he the center of it all, and this both pleased -and embarrassed him. He was like a man entirely absorbed in some -occupation. He did not see, hear, or understand anything clearly. Only -now and then detached ideas and impressions from the world of -reality shot unexpectedly through his mind. - -"So it is all finished!" he thought. "And how has it all happened? -How quickly! Now I know that not because of her alone, nor of myself -alone, but because of everyone, it must inevitably come about. They -are all expecting it, they are so sure that it will happen that I -cannot, I cannot, disappoint them. But how will it be? I do not -know, but it will certainly happen!" thought Pierre, glancing at those -dazzling shoulders close to his eyes. - -Or he would suddenly feel ashamed of he knew not what. He felt it -awkward to attract everyone's attention and to be considered a lucky -man and, with his plain face, to be looked on as a sort of Paris -possessed of a Helen. "But no doubt it always is and must be so!" he -consoled himself. "And besides, what have I done to bring it about? -How did it begin? I traveled from Moscow with Prince Vasili. Then -there was nothing. So why should I not stay at his house? Then I -played cards with her and picked up her reticule and drove out with -her. How did it begin, when did it all come about?" And here he was -sitting by her side as her betrothed, seeing, hearing, feeling her -nearness, her breathing, her movements, her beauty. Then it would -suddenly seem to him that it was not she but he was so unusually -beautiful, and that that was why they all looked so at him, and -flattered by this general admiration he would expand his chest, -raise his head, and rejoice at his good fortune. Suddenly he heard a -familiar voice repeating something to him a second time. But Pierre -was so absorbed that he did not understand what was said. - -"I am asking you when you last heard from Bolkonski," repeated -Prince Vasili a third time. "How absent-minded you are, my dear -fellow." - -Prince Vasili smiled, and Pierre noticed that everyone was smiling -at him and Helene. "Well, what of it, if you all know it?" thought -Pierre. "What of it? It's the truth!" and he himself smiled his gentle -childlike smile, and Helene smiled too. - -"When did you get the letter? Was it from Olmutz?" repeated Prince -Vasili, who pretended to want to know this in order to settle a -dispute. - -"How can one talk or think of such trifles?" thought Pierre. - -"Yes, from Olmutz," he answered, with a sigh. - -After supper Pierre with his partner followed the others into the -drawing room. The guests began to disperse, some without taking -leave of Helene. Some, as if unwilling to distract her from an -important occupation, came up to her for a moment and made haste to go -away, refusing to let her see them off. The diplomatist preserved a -mournful silence as he left the drawing room. He pictured the vanity -of his diplomatic career in comparison with Pierre's happiness. The -old general grumbled at his wife when she asked how his leg was. -"Oh, the old fool," he thought. "That Princess Helene will be -beautiful still when she's fifty." - -"I think I may congratulate you," whispered Anna Pavlovna to the old -princess, kissing her soundly. "If I hadn't this headache I'd have -stayed longer." - -The old princess did not reply, she was tormented by jealousy of her -daughter's happiness. - -While the guests were taking their leave Pierre remained for a -long time alone with Helene in the little drawing room where they were -sitting. He had often before, during the last six weeks, remained -alone with her, but had never spoken to her of love. Now he felt -that it was inevitable, but he could not make up his mind to take -the final step. He felt ashamed; he felt that he was occupying someone -else's place here beside Helene. "This happiness is not for you," some -inner voice whispered to him. "This happiness is for those who have -not in them what there is in you." - -But, as he had to say something, he began by asking her whether -she was satisfied with the party. She replied in her usual simple -manner that this name day of hers had been one of the pleasantest -she had ever had. - -Some of the nearest relatives had not yet left. They were sitting in -the large drawing room. Prince Vasili came up to Pierre with languid -footsteps. Pierre rose and said it was getting late. Prince Vasili -gave him a look of stern inquiry, as though what Pierre had just -said was so strange that one could not take it in. But then the -expression of severity changed, and he drew Pierre's hand downwards, -made him sit down, and smiled affectionately. - -"Well, Lelya?" he asked, turning instantly to his daughter and -addressing her with the careless tone of habitual tenderness natural -to parents who have petted their children from babyhood, but which -Prince Vasili had only acquired by imitating other parents. - -And he again turned to Pierre. - -"Sergey Kuzmich- From all sides-" he said, unbuttoning the top -button of his waistcoat. - -Pierre smiled, but his smile showed that he knew it was not the -story about Sergey Kuzmich that interested Prince Vasili just then, -and Prince Vasili saw that Pierre knew this. He suddenly muttered -something and went away. It seemed to Pierre that even the prince -was disconcerted. The sight of the discomposure of that old man of the -world touched Pierre: he looked at Helene and she too seemed -disconcerted, and her look seemed to say: "Well, it is your own -fault." - -"The step must be taken but I cannot, I cannot!" thought Pierre, and -he again began speaking about indifferent matters, about Sergey -Kuzmich, asking what the point of the story was as he had not heard it -properly. Helene answered with a smile that she too had missed it. - -When Prince Vasili returned to the drawing room, the princess, his -wife, was talking in low tones to the elderly lady about Pierre. - -"Of course, it is a very brilliant match, but happiness, my dear..." - -"Marriages are made in heaven," replied the elderly lady. - -Prince Vasili passed by, seeming not to hear the ladies, and sat -down on a sofa in a far corner of the room. He closed his eyes and -seemed to be dozing. His head sank forward and then he roused himself. - -"Aline," he said to his wife, "go and see what they are about." - -The princess went up to the door, passed by it with a dignified -and indifferent air, and glanced into the little drawing room. -Pierre and Helene still sat talking just as before. - -"Still the same," she said to her husband. - -Prince Vasili frowned, twisting his mouth, his cheeks quivered and -his face assumed the coarse, unpleasant expression peculiar to him. -Shaking himself, he rose, threw back his head, and with resolute steps -went past the ladies into the little drawing room. With quick steps he -went joyfully up to Pierre. His face was so unusually triumphant -that Pierre rose in alarm on seeing it. - -"Thank God!" said Prince Vasili. "My wife has told me everything!- -(He put one arm around Pierre and the other around his daughter.)- "My -dear boy... Lelya... I am very pleased." (His voice trembled.) "I -loved your father... and she will make you a good wife... God bless -you!..." - -He embraced his daughter, and then again Pierre, and kissed him with -his malodorous mouth. Tears actually moistened his cheeks. - -"Princess, come here!" he shouted. - -The old princess came in and also wept. The elderly lady was using -her handkerchief too. Pierre was kissed, and he kissed the beautiful -Helene's hand several times. After a while they were left alone again. - -"All this had to be and could not be otherwise," thought Pierre, "so -it is useless to ask whether it is good or bad. It is good because -it's definite and one is rid of the old tormenting doubt." Pierre held -the hand of his betrothed in silence, looking at her beautiful bosom -as it rose and fell. - -"Helene!" he said aloud and paused. - -"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, but -could not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her face. -She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed. - -"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to his -spectacles. - -Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyes -have from which spectacles have just been removed, had also a -frightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her hand and -kiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her head, she -intercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her face struck -Pierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited expression. - -"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought Pierre. - -"Je vous aime!"~{ "I love you." }~ he said, remembering what has to be said at such -moments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed of -himself. - -Six weeks later he was married, and settled in Count Bezukhov's -large, newly furnished Petersburg house, the happy possessor, as -people said, of a wife who was a celebrated beauty and of millions -of money. - -CHAPTER III - -Old Prince Nicholas Bolkonski received a letter from Prince Vasili -in November, 1805, announcing that he and his son would be paying -him a visit. "I am starting on a journey of inspection, and of -course I shall think nothing of an extra seventy miles to come and see -you at the same time, my honored benefactor," wrote Prince Vasili. "My - -son Anatole is accompanying me on his way to the army, so I hope you -will allow him personally to express the deep respect that, -emulating his father, he feels for you." - -"It seems that there will be no need to bring Mary out, suitors -are coming to us of their own accord," incautiously remarked the -little princess on hearing the news. - -Prince Nicholas frowned, but said nothing. - -A fortnight after the letter Prince Vasili's servants came one -evening in advance of him, and he and his son arrived next day. - -Old Bolkonski had always had a poor opinion of Prince Vasili's -character, but more so recently, since in the new reigns of Paul and -Alexander Prince Vasili had risen to high position and honors. And -now, from the hints contained in his letter and given by the little -princess, he saw which way the wind was blowing, and his low opinion -changed into a feeling of contemptuous ill will. He snorted whenever -he mentioned him. On the day of Prince Vasili's arrival, Prince -Bolkonski was particularly discontented and out of temper. Whether -he was in a bad temper because Prince Vasili was coming, or whether -his being in a bad temper made him specially annoyed at Prince -Vasili's visit, he was in a bad temper, and in the morning Tikhon -had already advised the architect not to go the prince with his -report. - -"Do you hear how he's walking?" said Tikhon, drawing the architect's -attention to the sound of the prince's footsteps. "Stepping flat on -his heels- we know what that means...." - -However, at nine o'clock the prince, in his velvet coat with a sable -collar and cap, went out for his usual walk. It had snowed the day -before and the path to the hothouse, along which the prince was in the -habit of walking, had been swept: the marks of the broom were still -visible in the snow and a shovel had been left sticking in one of -the soft snowbanks that bordered both sides of the path. The prince -went through the conservatories, the serfs' quarters, and the -outbuildings, frowning and silent. - -"Can a sleigh pass?" he asked his overseer, a venerable man, -resembling his master in manners and looks, who was accompanying him -back to the house. - -"The snow is deep. I am having the avenue swept, your honor." - -The prince bowed his head and went up to the porch. "God be -thanked," thought the overseer, "the storm has blown over!" - -"It would have been hard to drive up, your honor," he added. "I -heard, your honor, that a minister is coming to visit your honor." - -The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him, -frowning. - -"What? A minister? What minister? Who gave orders?" he said in his -shrill, harsh voice. "The road is not swept for the princess my -daughter, but for a minister! For me, there are no ministers!" - -"Your honor, I thought..." - -"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more -rapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals! Blackgaurds!... -I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick he swung it and -would have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not the latter -instinctively avoided the blow. "Thought... Blackguards..." shouted -the prince rapidly. - -But although Alpatych, frightened at his own temerity in avoiding -the stroke, came up to the prince, bowing his bald head resignedly -before him, or perhaps for that very reason, the prince, though he -continued to shout: "Blackgaurds!... Throw the snow back on the road!" -did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house. - -Before dinner, Princess Mary and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knew -that the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; Mademoiselle -Bourienne with a radiant face that said: "I know nothing, I am the -same as usual," and Princess Mary pale, frightened, and with -downcast eyes. What she found hardest to bear was to know that on such -occasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but could -not. She thought: "If I seem not to notice he will think that I do not -sympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, he -will say (as he has done before) that I'm in the dumps." - -The prince looked at his daughter's frightened face and snorted. - -"Fool... or dummy!" he muttered. - -"And the other one is not here. They've been telling tales," he -thought- referring to the little princess who was not in the dining -room. - -"Where is the princess?" he asked. "Hiding?" - -"She is not very well," answered Mademoiselle Bourienne with a -bright smile, "so she won't come down. It is natural in her state." - -"Hm! Hm!" muttered the prince, sitting down. - -His plate seemed to him not quite clean, and pointing to a spot he -flung it away. Tikhon caught it and handed it to a footman. The little -princess was not unwell, but had such an overpowering fear of the -prince that, hearing he was in a bad humor, she had decided not to -appear. - -"I am afraid for the baby," she said to Mademoiselle Bourienne: -"Heaven knows what a fright might do." - -In general at Bald Hills the little princess lived in constant fear, -and with a sense of antipathy to the old prince which she did not -realize because the fear was so much the stronger feeling. The -prince reciprocated this antipathy, but it was overpowered by his -contempt for her. When the little princess had grown accustomed to -life at Bald Hills, she took a special fancy to Mademoiselle -Bourienne, spent whole days with her, asked her to sleep in her -room, and often talked with her about the old prince and criticized -him. - -"So we are to have visitors, mon prince?" remarked Mademoiselle -Bourienne, unfolding her white napkin with her rosy fingers. "His -Excellency Prince Vasili Kuragin and his son, I understand?" she -said inquiringly. - -"Hm!- his excellency is a puppy.... I got him his appointment in the -service," said the prince disdainfully. "Why his son is coming I don't -understand. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth and Princess Mary know. I don't -want him." (He looked at his blushing daughter.) "Are you unwell -today? Eh? Afraid of the 'minister' as that idiot Alpatych called -him this morning?" - -"No, mon pere." - -Though Mademoiselle Bourienne had been so unsuccessful in her choice -of a subject, she did not stop talking, but chattered about the -conservatories and the beauty of a flower that had just opened, and -after the soup the prince became more genial. - -After dinner, he went to see his daughter-in-law. The little -princess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, her -maid. She grew pale on seeing her father-in-law. - -She was much altered. She was now plain rather than pretty. Her -cheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down. - -"Yes, I feel a kind of oppression," she said in reply to the -prince's question as to how she felt. - -"Do you want anything?" - -"No, merci, mon pere." - -"Well, all right, all right." - -He left the room and went to the waiting room where Alpatych stood -with bowed head. - -"Has the snow been shoveled back?" - -"Yes, your excellency. Forgive me for heaven's sake... It was only -my stupidity." - -"All right, all right," interrupted the prince, and laughing his -unnatural way, he stretched out his hand for Alpatych to kiss, and -then proceeded to his study. - -Prince Vasili arrived that evening. He was met in the avenue by -coachmen and footmen, who, with loud shouts, dragged his sleighs up to -one of the lodges over the road purposely laden with snow. - -Prince Vasili and Anatole had separate rooms assigned to them. - -Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbo -before a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedly -fixed his large and handsome eyes. He regarded his whole life as a -continual round of amusement which someone for some reason had to -provide for him. And he looked on this visit to a churlish old man and -a rich and ugly heiress in the same way. All this might, he thought, -turn out very well and amusingly. "And why not marry her if she really -has so much money? That never does any harm," thought Anatole. - -He shaved and scented himself with the care and elegance which had -become habitual to him and, his handsome head held high, entered his -father's room with the good-humored and victorious air natural to him. -Prince Vasili's two valets were busy dressing him, and he looked round -with much animation and cheerfully nodded to his son as the latter -entered, as if to say: "Yes, that's how I want you to look." - -"I say, Father, joking apart, is she very hideous?" Anatole asked, -as if continuing a conversation the subject of which had often been -mentioned during the journey. - -"Enough! What nonsense! Above all, try to be respectful and cautious -with the old prince." - -"If he starts a row I'll go away," said Prince Anatole. "I can't -bear those old men! Eh?" - -"Remember, for you everything depends on this." - -In the meantime, not only was it known in the maidservants' rooms -that the minister and his son had arrived, but the appearance of -both had been minutely described. Princess Mary was sitting alone in -her room, vainly trying to master her agitation. - -"Why did they write, why did Lise tell me about it? It can never -happen!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "How shall I enter -the drawing room? Even if I like him I can't now be myself with -him." The mere thought of her father's look filled her with terror. -The little princess and Mademoiselle Bourienne had already received -from Masha, the lady's maid, the necessary report of how handsome -the minister's son was, with his rosy cheeks and dark eyebrows, and -with what difficulty the father had dragged his legs upstairs while -the son had followed him like an eagle, three steps at a time. -Having received this information, the little princess and Mademoiselle -Bourienne, whose chattering voices had reached her from the -corridor, went into Princess Mary's room. - -"You know they've come, Marie?" said the little princess, waddling -in, and sinking heavily into an armchair. - -She was no longer in the loose gown she generally wore in the -morning, but had on one of her best dresses. Her hair was carefully -done and her face was animated, which, however, did not conceal its -sunken and faded outlines. Dressed as she used to be in Petersburg -society, it was still more noticeable how much plainer she had become. -Some unobtrusive touch had been added to Mademoiselle Bourienne's -toilet which rendered her fresh and prettyface yet more attractive. - -"What! Are you going to remain as you are, dear princess?" she -began. "They'll be announcing that the gentlemen are in the drawing -room and we shall have to go down, and you have not smartened yourself -up at all!" - -The little princess got up, rang for the maid, and hurriedly and -merrily began to devise and carry out a plan of how Princess Mary -should be dressed. Princess Mary's self-esteem was wounded by the fact -that the arrival of a suitor agitated her, and still more so by both -her companions' not having the least conception that it could be -otherwise. To tell them that she felt ashamed for herself and for them -would be to betray her agitation, while to decline their offers to -dress her would prolong their banter and insistence. She flushed, -her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and it -took on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, as -she submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise. Both these -women quite sincerely tried to make her look pretty. She was so -plain that neither of them could think of her as a rival, so they -began dressing her with perfect sincerity, and with the naive and firm -conviction women have that dress can make a face pretty. - -"No really, my dear, this dress is not pretty," said Lise, looking -sideways at Princess Mary from a little distance. "You have a maroon -dress, have it fetched. Really! You know the fate of your whole life -may be at stake. But this one is too light, it's not becoming!" - -It was not the dress, but the face and whole figure of Princess Mary -that was not pretty, but neither Mademoiselle Bourienne nor the little -princess felt this; they still thought that if a blue ribbon were -placed in the hair, the hair combed up, and the blue scarf arranged -lower on the best maroon dress, and so on, all would be well. They -forgot that the frightened face and the figure could not be altered, -and that however they might change the setting and adornment of that -face, it would still remain piteous and plain. After two or three -changes to which Princess Mary meekly submitted, just as her hair -had been arranged on the top of her head (a style that quite altered -and spoiled her looks) and she had put on a maroon dress with a -pale-blue scarf, the little princess walked twice round her, now -adjusting a fold of the dress with her little hand, now arranging -the scarf and looking at her with her head bent first on one side -and then on the other. - -"No, it will not do," she said decidedly, clasping her hands. "No, -Mary, really this dress does not suit you. I prefer you in your little -gray everyday dress. Now please, do it for my sake. Katie," she said -to the maid, "bring the princess her gray dress, and you'll see, -Mademoiselle Bourienne, how I shall arrange it," she added, smiling -with a foretaste of artistic pleasure. - -But when Katie brought the required dress, Princess Mary remained -sitting motionless before the glass, looking at her face, and saw in -the mirror her eyes full of tears and her mouth quivering, ready to -burst into sobs. - -"Come, dear princess," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "just one more -little effort." - -The little princess, taking the dress from the maid, came up to -Princess Mary. - -"Well, now we'll arrange something quite simple and becoming," she -said. - -The three voices, hers, Mademoiselle Bourienne's, and Katie's, who -was laughing at something, mingled in a merry sound, like the chirping -of birds. - -"No, leave me alone," said Princess Mary. - -Her voice sounded so serious and so sad that the chirping of the -birds was silenced at once. They looked at the beautiful, large, -thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly and -imploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruel -to insist. - -"At least, change your coiffure," said the little princess. -"Didn't I tell you," she went on, turning reproachfully to -Mademoiselle Bourienne, "Mary's is a face which such a coiffure does -not suit in the least. Not in the least! Please change it." - -"Leave me alone, please leave me alone! It is all quite the same -to me," answered a voice struggling with tears. - -Mademoiselle Bourienne and the little princess had to own to -themselves that Princess Mary in this guise looked very plain, worse -than usual, but it was too late. She was looking at them with an -expression they both knew, an expression thoughtful and sad. This -expression in Princess Mary did not frighten them (she never -inspired fear in anyone), but they knew that when it appeared on her -face, she became mute and was not to be shaken in her determination. - -"You will change it, won't you?" said Lise. And as Princess Mary -gave no answer, she left the room. - -Princess Mary was left alone. She did not comply with Lise's -request, she not only left her hair as it was, but did not even look -in her glass. Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with -downcast eyes and pondered. A husband, a man, a strong dominant and -strangely attractive being rose in her imagination, and carried her -into a totally different happy world of his own. She fancied a -child, her own- such as she had seen the day before in the arms of her -nurse's daughter- at her own breast, the husband standing by and -gazing tenderly at her and the child. "But no, it is impossible, I -am too ugly," she thought. - -"Please come to tea. The prince will be out in a moment," came the -maid's voice at the door. - -She roused herself, and felt appalled at what she had been thinking, -and before going down she went into the room where the icons hung and, -her eyes fixed on the dark face of a large icon of the Saviour lit -by a lamp, she stood before it with folded hands for a few moments. -A painful doubt filled her soul. Could the joy of love, of earthly -love for a man, be for her? In her thoughts of marriage Princess -Mary dreamed of happiness and of children, but her strongest, most -deeply hidden longing was for earthly love. The more she tried to hide -this feeling from others and even from herself, the stronger it -grew. "O God," she said, "how am I to stifle in my heart these -temptations of the devil? How am I to renounce forever these vile -fancies, so as peacefully to fulfill Thy will?" And scarcely had she -put that question than God gave her the answer in her own heart. -"Desire nothing for thyself, seek nothing, be not anxious or -envious. Man's future and thy own fate must remain hidden from thee, -but live so that thou mayest be ready for anything. If it be God's -will to prove thee in the duties of marriage, be ready to fulfill -His will." With this consoling thought (but yet with a hope for the -fulfillment of her forbidden earthly longing) Princess Mary sighed, -and having crossed herself went down, thinking neither of her gown and -coiffure nor of how she would go in nor of what she would say. What -could all that matter in comparison with the will of God, without -Whose care not a hair of man's head can fall? - -CHAPTER IV - -When Princess Mary came down, Prince Vasili and his son were already -in the drawing room, talking to the little princess and Mademoiselle -Bourienne. When she entered with her heavy step, treading on her -heels, the gentlemen and Mademoiselle Bourienne rose and the little -princess, indicating her to the gentlemen, said: "Voila Marie!" -Princess Mary saw them all and saw them in detail. She saw Prince -Vasili's face, serious for an instant at the sight of her, but -immediately smiling again, and the little princess curiously noting -the impression "Marie" produced on the visitors. And she saw -Mademoiselle Bourienne, with her ribbon and pretty face, and her -unusually animated look which was fixed on him, but him she could -not see, she only saw something large, brilliant, and handsome -moving toward her as she entered the room. Prince Vasili approached -first, and she kissed the bold forehead that bent over her hand and -answered his question by saying that, on the contrary, she -remembered him quite well. Then Anatole came up to her. She still -could not see him. She only felt a soft hand taking hers firmly, and -she touched with her lips a white forehead, over which was beautiful -light-brown hair smelling of pomade. When she looked up at him she was -struck by his beauty. Anatole stood with his right thumb under a -button of his uniform, his chest expanded and his back drawn in, -slightly swinging one foot, and, with his head a little bent, looked -with beaming face at the princess without speaking and evidently not -thinking about her at all. Anatole was not quick-witted, nor ready -or eloquent in conversation, but he had the faculty, so invaluable -in society, of composure and imperturbable self-possession. If a man -lacking in self-confidence remains dumb on a first introduction and -betrays a consciousness of the impropriety of such silence and an -anxiety to find something to say, the effect is bad. But Anatole was -dumb, swung his foot, and smilingly examined the princess' hair. It -was evident that he could be silent in this way for a very long -time. "If anyone finds this silence inconvenient, let him talk, but -I don't want to"' he seemed to say. Besides this, in his behavior to -women Anatole had a manner which particularly inspires in them -curiosity, awe, and even love- a supercilious consciousness of his own -superiority. It was was as if he said to them: "I know you, I know -you, but why should I bother about you? You'd be only too glad, of -course." Perhaps he did not really think this when he met women- -even probably he did not, for in general he thought very little- but -his looks and manner gave that impression. The princess felt this, and -as if wishing to show him that she did not even dare expect to -interest him, she turned to his father. The conversation was general -and animated, thanks to Princess Lise's voice and little downy lip -that lifted over her white teeth. She met Prince Vasili with that -playful manner often employed by lively chatty people, and -consisting in the assumption that between the person they so address -and themselves there are some semi-private, long-established jokes and -amusing reminiscences, though no such reminiscences really exist- just -as none existed in this case. Prince Vasili readily adopted her tone -and the little princess also drew Anatole, whom she hardly knew, -into these amusing recollections of things that had never occurred. -Mademoiselle Bourienne also shared them and even Princess Mary felt -herself pleasantly made to share in these merry reminiscences. - -"Here at least we shall have the benefit of your company all to -ourselves, dear prince," said the little princess (of course, in -French) to Prince Vasili. "It's not as at Annette's~{ Anna Pavlovna. }~ receptions -where you always ran away; you remember cette chere Annette!" - -"Ah, but you won't talk politics to me like Annette!" - -"And our little tea table?" - -"Oh, yes!" - -"Why is it you were never at Annette's?" the little princess asked -Anatole. "Ah, I know, I know," she said with a sly glance, "your -brother Hippolyte told me about your goings on. Oh!" and she shook her -finger at him, "I have even heard of your doings in Paris!" - -"And didn't Hippolyte tell you?" asked Prince Vasili, turning to his -son and seizing the little princess' arm as if she would have run away -and he had just managed to catch her, "didn't he tell you how he -himself was pining for the dear princess, and how she showed him the -door? Oh, she is a pearl among women, Princess," he added, turning -to Princess Mary. - -When Paris was mentioned, Mademoiselle Bourienne for her part seized -the opportunity of joining in the general current of recollections. - -She took the liberty of inquiring whether it was long since -Anatole had left Paris and how he had liked that city. Anatole -answered the Frenchwoman very readily and, looking at her with a -smile, talked to her about her native land. When he saw the pretty -little Bourienne, Anatole came to the conclusion that he would not -find Bald Hills dull either. "Not at all bad!" he thought, examining -her, "not at all bad, that little companion! I hope she will bring her -along with her when we're married, la petite est gentille."~{ The little one is charming. }~ - -The old prince dressed leisurely in his study, frowning and -considering what he was to do. The coming of these visitors annoyed -him. "What are Prince Vasili and that son of his to me? Prince -Vasili is a shallow braggart and his son, no doubt, is a fine -specimen," he grumbled to himself. What angered him was that the -coming of these visitors revived in his mind an unsettled question -he always tried to stifle, one about which he always deceived himself. -The question was whether he could ever bring himself to part from -his daughter and give her to a husband. The prince never directly -asked himself that question, knowing beforehand that he would have -to answer it justly, and justice clashed not only with his feelings -but with the very possibility of life. Life without Princess Mary, -little as he seemed to value her, was unthinkable to him. "And why -should she marry?" he thought. "To be unhappy for certain. There's -Lise, married to Andrew- a better husband one would think could hardly -be found nowadays- but is she contented with her lot? And who would -marry Marie for love? Plain and awkward! They'll take her for her -connections and wealth. Are there no women living unmarried, and -even the happier for it?" So thought Prince Bolkonski while -dressing, and yet the question he was always putting off demanded an -immediate answer. Prince Vasili had brought his son with the evident -intention of proposing, and today or tomorrow he would probably ask -for an answer. His birth and position in society were not bad. -"Well, I've nothing against it," the prince said to himself, "but he -must be worthy of her. And that is what we shall see." - -"That is what we shall see! That is what we shall see!" he added -aloud. - -He entered the drawing room with his usual alert step, glancing -rapidly round the company. He noticed the change in the little -princess' dress, Mademoiselle Bourienne's ribbon, Princess Mary's -unbecoming coiffure, Mademoiselle Bourienne's and Anatole's smiles, -and the loneliness of his daughter amid the general conversation. "Got -herself up like a fool!" he thought, looking irritably at her. "She is -shameless, and he ignores her!" - -He went straight up to Prince Vasili. - -"Well! How d'ye do? How d'ye do? Glad to see you!" - -"Friendship laughs at distance," began Prince Vasili in his usual -rapid, self-confident, familiar tone. "Here is my second son; please -love and befriend him." - -Prince Bolkonski surveyed Anatole. - -"Fine young fellow! Fine young fellow!" he said. "Well, come and -kiss me," and he offered his cheek. - -Anatole kissed the old man, and looked at him with curiosity and -perfect composure, waiting for a display of the eccentricities his -father had told him to expect. - -Prince Bolkonski sat down in his usual place in the corner of the -sofa and, drawing up an armchair for Prince Vasili, pointed to it -and began questioning him about political affairs and news. He -seemed to listen attentively to what Prince Vasili said, but kept -glancing at Princess Mary. - -"And so they are writing from Potsdam already?" he said, repeating -Prince Vasili's last words. Then rising, he suddenly went up to his -daughter. - -"Is it for visitors you've got yourself up like that, eh?" said -he. "Fine, very fine! You have done up your hair in this new way for -the visitors, and before the visitors I tell you that in future you -are never to dare to change your way of dress without my consent." - -"It was my fault, mon pere," interceded the little princess, with -a blush. - -"You must do as you please," said Prince Bolkonski, bowing to his -daughter-in-law, "but she need not make a fool of herself, she's plain -enough as it is." - -And he sat down again, paying no more attention to his daughter, who -was reduced to tears. - -"On the contrary, that coiffure suits the princess very well," -said Prince Vasili. - -"Now you, young prince, what's your name?" said Prince Bolkonski, -turning to Anatole, "come here, let us talk and get acquainted." - -"Now the fun begins," thought Anatole, sitting down with a smile -beside the old prince. - -"Well, my dear boy, I hear you've been educated abroad, not taught -to read and write by the deacon, like your father and me. Now tell me, -my dear boy, are you serving in the Horse Guards?" asked the old -man, scrutinizing Anatole closely and intently. - -"No, I have been transferred to the line," said Anatole, hardly able -to restrain his laughter. - -"Ah! That's a good thing. So, my dear boy, you wish to serve the -Tsar and the country? It is wartime. Such a fine fellow must serve. -Well, are you off to the front?" - -"No, Prince, our regiment has gone to the front, but I am -attached... what is it I am attached to, Papa?" said Anatole, -turning to his father with a laugh. - -"A splendid soldier, splendid! 'What am I attached to!' Ha, ha, ha!" -laughed Prince Bolkonski, and Anatole laughed still louder. Suddenly -Prince Bolkonski frowned. - -"You may go," he said to Anatole. - -Anatole returned smiling to the ladies. - -"And so you've had him educated abroad, Prince Vasili, haven't you?" -said the old prince to Prince Vasili. - -"I have done my best for him, and I can assure you the education -there is much better than ours." - -"Yes, everything is different nowadays, everything is changed. The -lad's a fine fellow, a fine fellow! Well, come with me now." He took -Prince Vasili's arm and led him to his study. As soon as they were -alone together, Prince Vasili announced his hopes and wishes to the -old prince. - -"Well, do you think I shall prevent her, that I can't part from -her?" said the old prince angrily. "What an idea! I'm ready for it -tomorrow! Only let me tell you, I want to know my son-in-law better. -You know my principles- everything aboveboard? I will ask her tomorrow -in your presence; if she is willing, then he can stay on. He can -stay and I'll see." The old prince snorted. "Let her marry, it's all -the same to me!" he screamed in the same piercing tone as when parting -from his son. - -"I will tell you frankly," said Prince Vasili in the tone of a -crafty man convinced of the futility of being cunning with so -keen-sighted companion. "You know, you see right through people. -Anatole is no genius, but he is an honest, goodhearted lad; an -excellent son or kinsman." - -"All right, all right, we'll see!" - -As always happens when women lead lonely lives for any length of -time without male society, on Anatole's appearance all the three women -of Prince Bolkonski's household felt that their life had not been real -till then. Their powers of reasoning, feeling, and observing -immediately increased tenfold, and their life, which seemed to have -been passed in darkness, was suddenly lit up by a new brightness, full -of significance. - -Princess Mary grew quite unconscious of her face and coiffure. The -handsome open face of the man who might perhaps be her husband -absorbed all her attention. He seemed to her kind, brave, -determined, manly, and magnanimous. She felt convinced of that. -Thousands of dreams of a future family life continually rose in her -imagination. She drove them away and tried to conceal them. - -"But am I not too cold with him?" thought the princess. "I try to be -reserved because in the depth of my soul I feel too near to him -already, but then he cannot know what I think of him and may imagine -that I do not like him." - -And Princess Mary tried, but could not manage, to be cordial to -her new guest. "Poor girl, she's devilish ugly!" thought Anatole. - -Mademoiselle Bourienne, also roused to great excitement by Anatole's -arrival, thought in another way. Of course, she, a handsome young -woman without any definite position, without relations or even a -country, did not intend to devote her life to serving Prince -Bolkonski, to reading aloud to him and being friends with Princess -Mary. Mademoiselle Bourienne had long been waiting for a Russian -prince who, able to appreciate at a glance her superiority to the -plain, badly dressed, ungainly Russian princesses, would fall in -love with her and carry her off; and here at last was a Russian -prince. Mademoiselle Bourienne knew a story, heard from her aunt but -finished in her own way, which she liked to repeat to herself. It -was the story of a girl who had been seduced, and to whom her poor -mother (sa pauvre mere) appeared, and reproached her for yielding to a -man without being married. Mademoiselle Bourienne was often touched to -tears as in imagination she told this story to him, her seducer. And -now he, a real Russian prince, had appeared. He would carry her away -and then sa pauvre mere would appear and he would marry her. So her -future shaped itself in Mademoiselle Bourienne's head at the very time -she was talking to Anatole about Paris. It was not calculation that -guided her (she did not even for a moment consider what she should -do), but all this had long been familiar to her, and now that -Anatole had appeared it just grouped itself around him and she -wished and tried to please him as much as possible. - -The little princess, like an old war horse that hears the trumpet, -unconsciously and quite forgetting her condition, prepared for the -familiar gallop of coquetry, without any ulterior motive or any -struggle, but with naive and lighthearted gaiety. - -Although in female society Anatole usually assumed the role of a man -tired of being run after by women, his vanity was flattered by the -spectacle of his power over these three women. Besides that, he was -beginning to feel for the pretty and provocative Mademoiselle -Bourienne that passionate animal feeling which was apt to master him -with great suddenness and prompt him to the coarsest and most reckless -actions. - -After tea, the company went into the sitting room and Princess -Mary was asked to play on the clavichord. Anatole, laughing and in -high spirits, came and leaned on his elbows, facing her and beside -Mademoiselle Bourienne. Princess Mary felt his look with a painfully -joyous emotion. Her favorite sonata bore her into a most intimately -poetic world and the look she felt upon her made that world still more -poetic. But Anatole's expression, though his eyes were fixed on her, -referred not to her but to the movements of Mademoiselle Bourienne's -little foot, which he was then touching with his own under the -clavichord. Mademoiselle Bourienne was also looking at Princess -Mary, and in her lovely eyes there was a look of fearful joy and -hope that was also new to the princess. - -"How she loves me!" thought Princess Mary. "How happy I am now, -and how happy I may be with such a friend and such a husband! Husband? -Can it be possible?" she thought, not daring to look at his face, -but still feeling his eyes gazing at her. - -In the evening, after supper, when all were about to retire, Anatole -kissed Princess Mary's hand. She did not know how she found the -courage, but she looked straight into his handsome face as it came -near to her shortsighted eyes. Turning from Princess Mary he went up -and kissed Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand. (This was not etiquette, but -then he did everything so simply and with such assurance!) -Mademoiselle Bourienne flushed, and gave the princess a frightened -look. - -"What delicacy! " thought the princess. "Is it possible that Amelie" -(Mademoiselle Bourienne) "thinks I could be jealous of her, and not -value her pure affection and devotion to me?" She went up to her and -kissed her warmly. Anatole went up to kiss the little princess' hand. - -"No! No! No! When your father writes to tell me that you are -behaving well I will give you my hand to kiss. Not till then!" she -said. And smilingly raising a finger at him, she left the room. - -CHAPTER V - -They all separated, but, except Anatole who fell asleep as soon as -he got into bed, all kept awake a long time that night. - -"Is he really to be my husband, this stranger who is so kind- yes, -kind, that is the chief thing," thought Princess Mary; and fear, which -she had seldom experienced, came upon her. She feared to look round, -it seemed to her that someone was there standing behind the screen -in the dark corner. And this someone was he- the devil- and he was -also this man with the white forehead, black eyebrows, and red lips. - -She rang for her maid and asked her to sleep in her room. - -Mademoiselle Bourienne walked up and down the conservatory for a -long time that evening, vainly expecting someone, now smiling at -someone, now working herself up to tears with the imaginary words of -her pauvre mere rebuking her for her fall. - -The little princess grumbled to her maid that her bed was badly -made. She could not lie either on her face or on her side. Every -position was awkward and uncomfortable, and her burden oppressed her -now more than ever because Anatole's presence had vividly recalled -to her the time when she was not like that and when everything was -light and gay. She sat in an armchair in her dressing jacket and -nightcap and Katie, sleepy and disheveled, beat and turned the heavy -feather bed for the third time, muttering to herself. - -"I told you it was all lumps and holes!" the little princess -repeated. "I should be glad enough to fall asleep, so it's not my -fault!" and her voice quivered like that of a child about to cry. - -The old prince did not sleep either. Tikhon, half asleep, heard -him pacing angrily about and snorting. The old prince felt as though - -he had been insulted through his daughter. The insult was the more -pointed because it concerned not himself but another, his daughter, -whom he loved more than himself. He kept telling himself that he would -consider the whole matter and decide what was right and how he -should act, but instead of that he only excited himself more and more. - -"The first man that turns up- she forgets her father and -everything else, runs upstairs and does up her hair and wags her -tail and is unlike herself! Glad to throw her father over! And she -knew I should notice it. Fr... fr... fr! And don't I see that that -idiot had eyes only for Bourienne- I shall have to get rid of her. And -how is it she has not pride enough to see it? If she has no pride -for herself she might at least have some for my sake! She must be -shown that the blockhead thinks nothing of her and looks only at -Bourienne. No, she has no pride... but I'll let her see...." - -The old prince knew that if he told his daughter she was making a -mistake and that Anatole meant to flirt with Mademoiselle Bourienne, -Princess Mary's self-esteem would be wounded and his point (not to -be parted from her) would be gained, so pacifying himself with this -thought, he called Tikhon and began to undress. - -"What devil brought them here?" thought he, while Tikhon was putting -the nightshirt over his dried-up old body and gray-haired chest. "I -never invited them. They came to disturb my life- and there is not -much of it left." - -"Devil take 'em!" he muttered, while his head was still covered by -the shirt. - -Tikhon knew his master's habit of sometimes thinking aloud, and -therefore met with unaltered looks the angrily inquisitive -expression of the face that emerged from the shirt. - -"Gone to bed?" asked the prince. - -Tikhon, like all good valets, instinctively knew the direction of -his master's thoughts. He guessed that the question referred to Prince -Vasili and his son. - -"They have gone to bed and put out their lights, your excellency." - -"No good... no good..." said the prince rapidly, and thrusting his -feet into his slippers and his arms into the sleeves of his dressing -gown, he went to the couch on which he slept. - -Though no words had passed between Anatole and Mademoiselle -Bourienne, they quite understood one another as to the first part of -their romance, up to the appearance of the pauvre mere; they -understood that they had much to say to one another in private and -so they had been seeking an opportunity since morning to meet one -another alone. When Princess Mary went to her father's room at the -usual hour, Mademoiselle Bourienne and Anatole met in the -conservatory. - -Princess Mary went to the door of the study with special -trepidation. It seemed to her that not only did everybody know that -her fate would be decided that day, but that they also knew what she -thought about it. She read this in Tikhon's face and in that of Prince -Vasili's valet, who made her a low bow when she met him in the -corridor carrying hot water. - -The old prince was very affectionate and careful in his treatment of -his daughter that morning. Princess Mary well knew this painstaking -expression of her father's. His face wore that expression when his dry -hands clenched with vexation at her not understanding a sum in -arithmetic, when rising from his chair he would walk away from her, -repeating in a low voice the same words several times over. - -He came to the point at once, treating her ceremoniously. - -"I have had a proposition made me concerning you," he said with an -unnatural smile. "I expect you have guessed that Prince Vasili has not -come and brought his pupil with him" (for some reason Prince Bolkonski -referred to Anatole as a "pupil") "for the sake of my beautiful -eyes. Last night a proposition was made me on your account and, as you -know my principles, I refer it to you." - -"How am I to understand you, mon pere?" said the princess, growing -pale and then blushing. - -"How understand me!" cried her father angrily. "Prince Vasili -finds you to his taste as a daughter-in-law and makes a proposal to -you on his pupil's behalf. That's how it's to be understood! 'How -understand it'!... And I ask you!" - -"I do not know what you think, Father," whispered the princess. - -"I? I? What of me? Leave me out of the question. I'm not going to -get married. What about you? That's what I want to know." - -The princess saw that her father regarded the matter with -disapproval, but at that moment the thought occurred to her that her -fate would be decided now or never. She lowered her eyes so as not -to see the gaze under which she felt that she could not think, but -would only be able to submit from habit, and she said: "I wish only to -do your will, but if I had to express my own desire..." She had no -time to finish. The old prince interrupted her. - -"That's admirable!" he shouted. "He will take you with your dowry -and take Mademoiselle Bourienne into the bargain. She'll be the -wife, while you..." - -The prince stopped. He saw the effect these words had produced on -his daughter. She lowered her head and was ready to burst into tears. - -"Now then, now then, I'm only joking!" he said. "Remember this, -Princess, I hold to the principle that a maiden has a full right to -choose. I give you freedom. Only remember that your life's happiness -depends on your decision. Never mind me!" - -"But I do not know, Father!" - -"There's no need to talk! He receives his orders and will marry -you or anybody; but you are free to choose.... Go to your room, -think it over, and come back in an hour and tell me in his presence: -yes or no. I know you will pray over it. Well, pray if you like, but -you had better think it over. Go! Yes or no, yes or no, yes or no!" he -still shouted when the princess, as if lost in a fog, had already -staggered out of the study. - -Her fate was decided and happily decided. But what her father had -said about Mademoiselle Bourienne was dreadful. It was untrue to be -sure, but still it was terrible, and she could not help thinking of -it. She was going straight on through the conservatory, neither seeing -nor hearing anything, when suddenly the well-known whispering of -Mademoiselle Bourienne aroused her. She raised her eyes, and two steps -away saw Anatole embracing the Frenchwoman and whispering something to -her. With a horrified expression on his handsome face, Anatole -looked at Princess Mary, but did not at once take his arm from the -waist of Mademoiselle Bourienne who had not yet seen her. - -"Who's that? Why? Wait a moment!" Anatole's face seemed to say. -Princess Mary looked at them in silence. She could not understand -it. At last Mademoiselle Bourienne gave a scream and ran away. Anatole -bowed to Princess Mary with a gay smile, as if inviting her to join in -a laugh at this strange incident, and then shrugging his shoulders -went to the door that led to his own apartments. - -An hour later, Tikhon came to call Princess Mary to the old -prince; he added that Prince Vasili was also there. When Tikhon came -to her Princess Mary was sitting on the sofa in her room, holding -the weeping Mademoiselle Bourienne in her arms and gently stroking her -hair. The princess' beautiful eyes with all their former calm radiance -were looking with tender affection and pity at Mademoiselle -Bourienne's pretty face. - -"No, Princess, I have lost your affection forever!" said -Mademoiselle Bourienne. - -"Why? I love you more than ever," said Princess Mary, "and I will -try to do all I can for your happiness." - -"But you despise me. You who are so pure can never understand -being so carried away by passion. Oh, only my poor mother..." - -"I quite understand," answered Princess Mary, with a sad smile. -"Calm yourself, my dear. I will go to my father," she said, and went -out. - -Prince Vasili, with one leg thrown high over the other and a -snuffbox in his hand, was sitting there with a smile of deep emotion -on his face, as if stirred to his heart's core and himself -regretting and laughing at his own sensibility, when Princess Mary -entered. He hurriedly took a pinch of snuff. - -"Ah, my dear, my dear!" he began, rising and taking her by both -hands. Then, sighing, he added: "My son's fate is in your hands. -Decide, my dear, good, gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a -daughter!" - -He drew back and a real tear appeared in his eye. - -"Fr... fr..." snorted Prince Bolkonski. "The prince is making a -proposition to you in his pupil's- I mean, his son's- name. Do you -wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kuragin's wife? Reply: yes or no," he -shouted, "and then I shall reserve the right to state my opinion also. -Yes, my opinion, and only my opinion," added Prince Bolkonski, turning -to Prince Vasili and answering his imploring look. "Yes, or no?" - -"My desire is never to leave you, Father, never to separate my -life from yours. I don't wish to marry," she answered positively, -glancing at Prince Vasili and at her father with her beautiful eyes. - -"Humbug! Nonsense! Humbug, humbug, humbug!" cried Prince -Bolkonski, frowning and taking his daughter's hand; he did not kiss -her, but only bending his forehead to hers just touched it, and -pressed her hand so that she winced and uttered a cry. - -Prince Vasili rose. - -"My dear, I must tell you that this is a moment I shall never, never -forget. But, my dear, will you not give us a little hope of touching -this heart, so kind and generous? Say 'perhaps'... The future is so -long. Say 'perhaps.'" - -"Prince, what I have said is all there is in my heart. I thank you -for the honor, but I shall never be your son's wife." - -"Well, so that's finished, my dear fellow! I am very glad to have -seen you. Very glad! Go back to your rooms, Princess. Go!" said the -old prince. "Very, very glad to glad to have seen you," repeated he, -embracing Prince Vasili. - -"My vocation is a different one," thought Princess Mary. "My -vocation is to be happy with another kind of happiness, the -happiness of love and self-sacrifice. And cost what it may, I will -arrange poor Amelie's happiness, she loves him so passionately, and so -passionately repents. I will do all I can to arrange the match between -them. If he is not rich I will give her the means; I will ask my -father and Andrew. I shall be so happy when she is his wife. She is so -unfortunate, a stranger, alone, helpless! And, oh God, how -passionately she must love him if she could so far forget herself! -Perhaps I might have done the same!..." thought Princess Mary. - -CHAPTER VI - -It was long since the Rostovs had news of Nicholas. Not till -midwinter was the count at last handed a letter addressed in his son's -handwriting. On receiving it, he ran on tiptoe to his study in alarm -and haste, trying to escape notice, closed the door, and began to read -the letter. - -Anna Mikhaylovna, who always knew everything that passed in the -house, on hearing of the arrival of the letter went softly into the -room and found the count with it in his hand, sobbing and laughing -at the same time. - -Anna Mikhaylovna, though her circumstances had improved, was still -living with the Rostovs. - -"My dear friend?" said she, in a tone of pathetic inquiry, -prepared to sympathize in any way. - -The count sobbed yet more. - -"Nikolenka... a letter... wa... a... s... wounded... my darling -boy... the countess... promoted to be an officer... thank God... How -tell the little countess!" - -Anna Mikhaylovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief -wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter, then having dried -her own eyes she comforted the count, and decided that at dinner and -till teatime she would prepare the countess, and after tea, with God's -help, would inform her. - -At dinner Anna Mikhaylovna talked the whole time about the war -news and about Nikolenka, twice asked when the last letter had been -received from him, though she knew that already, and remarked that -they might very likely be getting a letter from him that day. Each -time that these hints began to make the countess anxious and she -glanced uneasily at the count and at Anna Mikhaylovna, the latter very -adroitly turned the conversation to insignificant matters. Natasha, -who, of the whole family, was the most gifted with a capacity to -feel any shades of intonation, look, and expression, pricked up her -ears from the beginning of the meal and was certain that there was -some secret between her father and Anna Mikhaylovna, that it had -something to do with her brother, and that Anna Mikhaylovna was -preparing them for it. Bold as she was, Natasha, who knew how -sensitive her mother was to anything relating to Nikolenka, did not -venture to ask any questions at dinner, but she was too excited to eat -anything and kept wriggling about on her chair regardless of her -governess' remarks. After dinner, she rushed head long after Anna -Mikhaylovna and, dashing at her, flung herself on her neck as soon -as she overtook her in the sitting room. - -"Auntie, darling, do tell me what it is!" - -"Nothing, my dear." - -"No, dearest, sweet one, honey, I won't give up- I know you know -something." - -Anna Mikhaylovna shook her head. - -"You are a little slyboots," she said. - -"A letter from Nikolenka! I'm sure of it!" exclaimed Natasha, -reading confirmation in Anna Mikhaylovna's face. - -"But for God's sake, be careful, you know how it may affect your -mamma." - -"I will, I will, only tell me! You won't? Then I will go and tell at -once." - -Anna Mikhaylovna, in a few words, told her the contents of the -letter, on condition that she should tell no one. - -"No, on my true word of honor," said Natasha,crossing herself, "I -won't tell anyone!" and she ran off at once to Sonya. - -"Nikolenka... wounded... a letter," she announced in gleeful -triumph. - -"Nicholas!" was all Sonya said, instantly turning white. - -Natasha, seeing the impression the of her brother's wound produced -on Sonya, felt for the first time the sorrowful side of the news. - -She rushed to Sonya, hugged her, and began to cry. - -"A little wound, but he has been made an officer; he is well now, he -wrote himself," said she through her tears. - -"There now! It's true that all you women are crybabies," remarked -Petya, pacing the room with large, resolute strides. "Now I'm very -glad, very glad indeed, that my brother has distinguished himself -so. You are all blubberers and understand nothing." - -Natasha smiled through her tears. - -"You haven't read the letter?" asked Sonya. - -"No, but she said that it was all over and that he's now an -officer." - -"Thank God!" said Sonya, crossing herself. "But perhaps she deceived -you. Let us go to Mamma." - -Petya paced the room in silence for a time. - -"If I'd been in Nikolenka's place I would have killed even more of -those Frenchmen," he said. "What nasty brutes they are! I'd have -killed so many that there'd have been a heap of them." - -"Hold your tongue, Petya, what a goose you are!" - -"I'm not a goose, but they are who cry about trifles," said Petya. - -"Do you remember him?" Natasha suddenly asked, after a moment's -silence. - -Sonya smiled. - -"Do I remember Nicholas?" - -"No, Sonya, but do you remember so that you remember him -perfectly, remember everything?" said Natasha, with an expressive -gesture, evidently wishing to give her words a very definite -meaning. "I remember Nikolenka too, I remember him well," she said. -"But I don't remember Boris. I don't remember him a bit." - -"What! You don't remember Boris?" asked Sonya in surprise. - -"It's not that I don't remember- I know what he is like, but not -as I remember Nikolenka. Him- I just shut my eyes and remember, but -Boris... No!" (She shut her eyes.)"No! there's nothing at all." - -"Oh, Natasha!" said Sonya, looking ecstatically and earnestly at her -friend as if she did not consider her worthy to hear what she meant to -say and as if she were saying it to someone else, with whom joking was -out of the question, "I am in love with your brother once for all and, -whatever may happen to him or to me, shall never cease to love him -as long as I live." - -Natasha looked at Sonya with wondering and inquisitive eyes, and -said nothing. She felt that Sonya was speaking the truth, that there -was such love as Sonya was speaking of. But Natasha had not yet felt -anything like it. She believed it could be, but did not understand it. - -"Shall you write to him?" she asked. - -Sonya became thoughtful. The question of how to write to Nicholas, -and whether she ought to write, tormented her. Now that he was already -an officer and a wounded hero, would it be right to remind him of -herself and, as it might seem, of the obligations to her he had -taken on himself? - -"I don't know. I think if he writes, I will write too," she said, -blushing. - -"And you won't feel ashamed to write to him?" - -Sonya smiled. - -"No." - -"And I should be ashamed to write to Boris. I'm not going to." - -"Why should you be ashamed?" - -"Well, I don't know. It's awkward and would make me ashamed." - -"And I know why she'd be ashamed," said Petya, offended by Natasha's -previous remark. "It's because she was in love with that fat one in -spectacles" (that was how Petya described his namesake, the new -Count Bezukhov) "and now she's in love with that singer" (he meant -Natasha's Italian singing master), "that's why she's ashamed!" - -"Petya, you're a stupid!" said Natasha. - -"Not more stupid than you, madam," said the nine-year-old Petya, -with the air of an old brigadier. - -The countess had been prepared by Anna Mikhaylovna's hints at -dinner. On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her -eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a -snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes. Anna Mikhaylovna, -with the letter, came on tiptoe to the countess' door and paused. - -"Don't come in," she said to the old count who was following her. -"Come later." And she went in, closing the door behind her. - -The count put his ear to the keyhole and listened. - -At first he heard the sound of indifferent voices, then Anna -Mikhaylovna's voice alone in a long speech, then a cry, then -silence, then both voices together with glad intonations, and then -footsteps. Anna Mikhaylovna opened the door. Her face wore the proud -expression of a surgeon who has just performed a difficult operation -and admits the public to appreciate his skill. - -"It is done!" she said to the count, pointing triumphantly to the -countess, who sat holding in one hand the snuffbox with its portrait -and in the other the letter, and pressing them alternately to her -lips. - -When she saw the count, she stretched out her arms to him, -embraced his bald head, over which she again looked at the letter -and the portrait, and in order to press them again to her lips, she -slightly pushed away the bald head. Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya -now entered the room, and the reading of the letter began. After a -brief description of the campaign and the two battles in which he -had taken part, and his promotion, Nicholas said that he kissed his -father's and mother's hands asking for their blessing, and that he -kissed Vera, Natasha, and Petya. Besides that, he sent greetings to -Monsieur Schelling, Madame Schoss, and his old nurse, and asked them -to kiss for him "dear Sonya, whom he loved and thought of just the -same as ever." When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came -into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran -away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her -dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped -down on the floor. The countess was crying. - -"Why are you crying, Mamma?" asked Vera. "From all he says one -should be glad and not cry." - -This was quite true, but the count, the countess, and Natasha looked -at her reproachfully. "And who is it she takes after?" thought the -countess. - -Nicholas' letter was read over hundreds of times, and those who were -considered worthy to hear it had to come to the countess, for she -did not let it out of her hands. The tutors came, and the nurses, -and Dmitri, and several acquaintances, and the countess reread the -letter each time with fresh pleasure and each time discovered in it -fresh proofs of Nikolenka's virtues. How strange, how extraordinary, -how joyful it seemed, that her son, the scarcely perceptible motion of -whose tiny limbs she had felt twenty years ago within her, that son -about whom she used to have quarrels with the too indulgent count, -that son who had first learned to say "pear" and then "granny," that -this son should now be away in a foreign land amid strange -surroundings, a manly warrior doing some kind of man's work of his -own, without help or guidance. The universal experience of ages, -showing that children do grow imperceptibly from the cradle to -manhood, did not exist for the countess. Her son's growth toward -manhood, at each of its stages, had seemed as extraordinary to her -as if there had never existed the millions of human beings who grew up -in the same way. As twenty years before, it seemed impossible that the -little creature who lived somewhere under her heart would ever cry, -suck her breast, and begin to speak, so now she could not believe that -that little creature could be this strong, brave man, this model son -and officer that, judging by this letter, he now was. - -"What a style! How charmingly he describes!" said she, reading the -descriptive part of the letter. "And what a soul! Not a word about -himself.... Not a word! About some Denisov or other, though he -himself, I dare say, is braver than any of them. He says nothing about -his sufferings. What a heart! How like him it is! And how he has -remembered everybody! Not forgetting anyone. I always said when he was -only so high- I always said...." - -For more than a week preparations were being made, rough drafts of -letters to Nicholas from all the household were written and copied -out, while under the supervision of the countess and the solicitude of -the count, money and all things necessary for the uniform and -equipment of the newly commissioned officer were collected. Anna -Mikhaylovna, practical woman that she was, had even managed by favor -with army authorities to secure advantageous means of communication -for herself and her son. She had opportunities of sending her -letters to the Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovich, who commanded the -Guards. The Rostovs supposed that The Russian Guards, Abroad, was -quite a definite address, and that if a letter reached the Grand -Duke in command of the Guards there was no reason why it should not -reach the Pavlograd regiment, which was presumably somewhere in the -same neighborhood. And so it was decided to send the letters and money -by the Grand Duke's courier to Boris and Boris was to forward them -to Nicholas. The letters were from the old count, the countess, Petya, -Vera, Natasha, and Sonya, and finally there were six thousand rubles -for his outfit and various other things the old count sent to his son. - -CHAPTER VII - -On the twelfth of November, Kutuzov's active army, in camp before -Olmutz, was preparing to be reviewed next day by the two Emperors- the -Russian and the Austrian. The Guards, just arrived from Russia, -spent the night ten miles from Olmutz and next morning were to come -straight to the review, reaching the field at Olmutz by ten o'clock. - -That day Nicholas Rostov received a letter from Boris, telling him -that the Ismaylov regiment was quartered for the night ten miles -from Olmutz and that he wanted to see him as he had a letter and money -for him. Rostov was particularly in need of money now that the troops, -after their active service, were stationed near Olmutz and the camp -swarmed with well-provisioned sutlers and Austrian Jews offering all -sorts of tempting wares. The Pavlograds held feast after feast, -celebrating awards they had received for the campaign, and made -expeditions to Olmutz to visit a certain Caroline the Hungarian, who -had recently opened a restaurant there with girls as waitresses. -Rostov, who had just celebrated his promotion to a cornetcy and bought -Denisov's horse, Bedouin, was in debt all round, to his comrades and -the sutlers. On receiving Boris' letter he rode with a fellow -officer to Olmutz, dined there, drank a bottle of wine, and then set -off alone to the Guards' camp to find his old playmate. Rostov had not -yet had time to get his uniform. He had on a shabby cadet jacket, -decorated with a soldier's cross, equally shabby cadet's riding -breeches lined with worn leather, and an officer's saber with a -sword knot. The Don horse he was riding was one he had bought from a -Cossack during the campaign, and he wore a crumpled hussar cap stuck -jauntily back on one side of his head. As he rode up to the camp he -thought how he would impress Boris and all his comrades of the -Guards by his appearance- that of a fighting hussar who had been under -fire. - -The Guards had made their whole march as if on a pleasure trip, -parading their cleanliness and discipline. They had come by easy -stages, their knapsacks conveyed on carts, and the Austrian -authorities had provided excellent dinners for the officers at every -halting place. The regiments had entered and left the town with -their bands playing, and by the Grand Duke's orders the men had -marched all the way in step (a practice on which the Guards prided -themselves), the officers on foot and at their proper posts. Boris had -been quartered, and had marched all the way, with Berg who was already -in command of a company. Berg, who had obtained his captaincy during -the campaign, had gained the confidence of his superiors by his -promptitude and accuracy and had arranged his money matters very -satisfactorily. Boris, during the campaign, had made the -acquaintance of many persons who might prove useful to him, and by a -letter of recommendation he had brought from Pierre had become -acquainted with Prince Andrew Bolkonski, through whom he hoped to -obtain a post on the commander in chief's staff. Berg and Boris, -having rested after yesterday's march, were sitting, clean and -neatly dressed, at a round table in the clean quarters allotted to -them, playing chess. Berg held a smoking pipe between his knees. -Boris, in the accurate way characteristic of him, was building a -little pyramid of chessmen with his delicate white fingers while -awaiting Berg's move, and watched his opponent's face, evidently -thinking about the game as he always thought only of whatever he was -engaged on. - -"Well, how are you going to get out of that?" he remarked. - -"We'll try to," replied Berg, touching a pawn and then removing -his hand. - -At that moment the door opened. - -"Here he is at last!" shouted Rostov. "And Berg too! Oh, you -petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!" he exclaimed, imitating his Russian -nurse's French, at which he and Boris used to laugh long ago. - -"Dear me, how you have changed!" - -Boris rose to meet Rostov, but in doing so did not omit to steady -and replace some chessmen that were falling. He was about to embrace -his friend, but Nicholas avoided him. With that peculiar feeling of -youth, that dread of beaten tracks, and wish to express itself in a -manner different from that of its elders which is often insincere, -Nicholas wished to do something special on meeting his friend. He -wanted to pinch him, push him, do anything but kiss him- a thing -everybody did. But notwithstanding this, Boris embraced him in a -quiet, friendly way and kissed him three times. - -They had not met for nearly half a year and, being at the age when -young men take their first steps on life's road, each saw immense -changes in the other, quite a new reflection of the society in which -they had taken those first steps. Both had changed greatly since -they last met and both were in a hurry to show the changes that had -taken place in them. - -"Oh, you damned dandies! Clean and fresh as if you'd been to a fete, -not like us sinners of the line," cried Rostov, with martial swagger -and with baritone notes in his voice, new to Boris, pointing to his -own mud-bespattered breeches. The German landlady, hearing Rostov's -loud voice, popped her head in at the door. - -"Eh, is she pretty?" he asked with a wink. - -"Why do you shout so? You'll frighten them!" said Boris. "I did -not expect you today," he added. "I only sent you the note yesterday -by Bolkonski- an adjutant of Kutuzov's, who's a friend of mine. I -did not think he would get it to you so quickly.... Well, how are you? -Been under fire already?" asked Boris. - -Without answering, Rostov shook the soldier's Cross of St. George -fastened to the cording of his uniform and, indicating a bandaged arm, -glanced at Berg with a smile. - -"As you see," he said. - -"Indeed? Yes, yes!" said Boris, with a smile. "And we too have had a -splendid march. You know, of course, that His Imperial Highness rode -with our regiment all the time, so that we had every comfort and every -advantage. What receptions we had in Poland! What dinners and balls! I -can't tell you. And the Tsarevich was very gracious to all our -officers." - -And the two friends told each other of their doings, the one of -his hussar revels and life in the fighting line, the other of the -pleasures and advantages of service under members of the Imperial -family. - -"Oh, you Guards!" said Rostov. "I say, send for some wine." - -Boris made a grimace. - -"If you really want it," said he. - -He went to his bed, drew a purse from under the clean pillow, and -sent for wine. - -"Yes, and I have some money and a letter to give you," he added. - -Rostov took the letter and, throwing the money on the sofa, put both -arms on the table and began to read. After reading a few lines, he -glanced angrily at Berg, then, meeting his eyes, hid his face behind -the letter. - -"Well, they've sent you a tidy sum," said Berg, eying the heavy -purse that sank into the sofa. "As for us, Count, we get along on -our pay. I can tell you for myself..." - -"I say, Berg, my dear fellow," said Rostov, "when you get a letter -from home and meet one of your own people whom you want to talk -everything over with, and I happen to be there, I'll go at once, to be -out of your way! Do go somewhere, anywhere... to the devil!" he -exclaimed, and immediately seizing him by the shoulder and looking -amiably into his face, evidently wishing to soften the rudeness of his -words, he added, "Don't be hurt, my dear fellow; you know I speak from -my heart as to an old acquaintance." - -"Oh, don't mention it, Count! I quite understand," said Berg, -getting up and speaking in a muffled and guttural voice. - -"Go across to our hosts: they invited you," added Boris. - -Berg put on the cleanest of coats, without a spot or speck of -dust, stood before a looking glass and brushed the hair on his temples -upwards, in the way affected by the Emperor Alexander, and, having -assured himself from the way Rostov looked at it that his coat had -been noticed, left the room with a pleasant smile. - -"Oh dear, what a beast I am!" muttered Rostov, as he read the -letter. - -"Why?" - -"Oh, what a pig I am, not to have written and to have given them -such a fright! Oh, what a pig I am!" he repeated, flushing suddenly. -"Well, have you sent Gabriel for some wine? All right let's have -some!" - -In the letter from his parents was enclosed a letter of -recommendation to Bagration which the old countess at Anna -Mikhaylovna's advice had obtained through an acquaintance and sent -to her son, asking him to take it to its destination and make use of -it. - -"What nonsense! Much I need it!" said Rostov, throwing the letter -under the table. - -"Why have you thrown that away?" asked Boris. - -"It is some letter of recommendation... what the devil do I want -it for!" - -"Why 'What the devil'?" said Boris, picking it up and reading the -address. "This letter would be of great use to you." - -"I want nothing, and I won't be anyone's adjutant." - -"Why not?" inquired Boris. - -"It's a lackey's job!" - -"You are still the same dreamer, I see," remarked Boris, shaking his -head. - -"And you're still the same diplomatist! But that's not the -point... Come, how are you?" asked Rostov. - -"Well, as you see. So far everything's all right, but I confess I -should much like to be an adjutant and not remain at the front." - -"Why?" - -"Because when once a man starts on military service, he should try -to make as successful a career of it as possible." - -"Oh, that's it!" said Rostov, evidently thinking of something else. - -He looked intently and inquiringly into his friend's eyes, evidently -trying in vain to find the answer to some question. - -Old Gabriel brought in the wine. - -"Shouldn't we now send for Berg?" asked Boris. "He would drink -with you. I can't." - -"Well, send for him... and how do you get on with that German?" -asked Rostov, with a contemptuous smile. - -"He is a very, very nice, honest, and pleasant fellow," answered -Boris. - -Again Rostov looked intently into Boris' eyes and sighed. Berg -returned, and over the bottle of wine conversation between the three -officers became animated. The Guardsmen told Rostov of their march and -how they had been made much of in Russia, Poland, and abroad. They -spoke of the sayings and doings of their commander, the Grand Duke, -and told stories of his kindness and irascibility. Berg, as usual, -kept silent when the subject did not relate to himself, but in -connection with the stories of the Grand Duke's quick temper he -related with gusto how in Galicia he had managed to deal with the -Grand Duke when the latter made a tour of the regiments and was -annoyed at the irregularity of a movement. With a pleasant smile -Berg related how the Grand Duke had ridden up to him in a violent -passion, shouting: "Arnauts!" ("Arnauts" was the Tsarevich's -favorite expression when he was in a rage) and called for the -company commander. - -"Would you believe it, Count, I was not at all alarmed, because I -knew I was right. Without boasting, you know, I may say that I know -the Army Orders by heart and know the Regulations as well as I do -the Lord's Prayer. So, Count, there never is any negligence in my -company, and so my conscience was at ease. I came forward...." (Berg -stood up and showed how he presented himself, with his hand to his -cap, and really it would have been difficult for a face to express -greater respect and self-complacency than his did.) "Well, he -stormed at me, as the saying is, stormed and stormed and stormed! It -was not a matter of life but rather of death, as the saying is. -'Albanians!' and 'devils!' and 'To Siberia!'" said Berg with a -sagacious smile. "I knew I was in the right so I kept silent; was -not that best, Count?... 'Hey, are you dumb?' he shouted. Still I -remained silent. And what do you think, Count? The next day it was not -even mentioned in the Orders of the Day. That's what keeping one's -head means. That's the way, Count," said Berg, lighting his pipe and -emitting rings of smoke. - -"Yes, that was fine," said Rostov, smiling. - -But Boris noticed that he was preparing to make fun of Berg, and -skillfully changed the subject. He asked him to tell them how and -where he got his wound. This pleased Rostov and he began talking about -it, and as he went on became more and more animated. He told them of -his Schon Grabern affair, just as those who have taken part in a -battle generally do describe it, that is, as they would like it to -have been, as they have heard it described by others, and as sounds -well, but not at all as it really was. Rostov was a truthful young man -and would on no account have told a deliberate lie. He began his story -meaning to tell everything just as it happened, but imperceptibly, -involuntarily, and inevitably he lapsed into falsehood. If he had told -the truth to his hearers- who like himself had often heard stories -of attacks and had formed a definite idea of what an attack was and -were expecting to hear just such a story- they would either not have -believed him or, still worse, would have thought that Rostov was -himself to blame since what generally happens to the narrators of -cavalry attacks had not happened to him. He could not tell them simply -that everyone went at a trot and that he fell off his horse and -sprained his arm and then ran as hard as he could from a Frenchman -into the wood. Besides, to tell everything as it really happened, it -would have been necessary to make an effort of will to tell only -what happened. It is very difficult to tell the truth, and young -people are rarely capable of it. His hearers expected a story of how -beside himself and all aflame with excitement, he had flown like a -storm at the square, cut his way in, slashed right and left, how his -saber had tasted flesh and he had fallen exhausted, and so on. And -so he told them all that. - -In the middle of his story, just as he was saying: "You cannot -imagine what a strange frenzy one experiences during an attack," -Prince Andrew, whom Boris was expecting, entered the room. Prince -Andrew, who liked to help young men, was flattered by being asked -for his assistance and being well disposed toward Boris, who had -managed to please him the day before, he wished to do what the young -man wanted. Having been sent with papers from Kutuzov to the -Tsarevich, he looked in on Boris, hoping to find him alone. When he -came in and saw an hussar of the line recounting his military exploits -(Prince Andrew could not endure that sort of man), he gave Boris a -pleasant smile, frowned as with half-closed eyes he looked at -Rostov, bowed slightly and wearily, and sat down languidly on the -sofa: he felt it unpleasant to have dropped in on bad company. -Rostov flushed up on noticing this, but he did not care, this was a -mere stranger. Glancing, however, at Boris, he saw that he too -seemed ashamed of the hussar of the line. - -In spite of Prince Andrew's disagreeable, ironical tone, in spite of -the contempt with which Rostov, from his fighting army point of -view, regarded all these little adjutants on the staff of whom the -newcomer was evidently one, Rostov felt confused, blushed, and -became silent. Boris inquired what news there might be on the staff, -and what, without indiscretion, one might ask about our plans. - -"We shall probably advance," replied Bolkonski, evidently -reluctant to say more in the presence of a stranger. - -Berg took the opportunity to ask, with great politeness, whether, as -was rumored, the allowance of forage money to captains of companies -would be doubled. To this Prince Andrew answered with a smile that -he could give no opinion on such an important government order, and -Berg laughed gaily. - -"As to your business," Prince Andrew continued, addressing Boris, -"we will talk of it later" (and he looked round at Rostov). "Come to -me after the review and we will do what is possible." - -And, having glanced round the room, Prince Andrew turned to -Rostov, whose state of unconquerable childish embarrassment now -changing to anger he did not condescend to notice, and said: "I -think you were talking of the Schon Grabern affair? Were you there?" - -"I was there," said Rostov angrily, as if intending to insult the -aide-de-camp. - -Bolkonski noticed the hussar's state of mind, and it amused him. -With a slightly contemptuous smile, he said: "Yes, there are many -stories now told about that affair!" - -"Yes, stories!" repeated Rostov loudly, looking with eyes suddenly -grown furious, now at Boris, now at Bolkonski. "Yes, many stories! But -our stories are the stories of men who have been under the enemy's -fire! Our stories have some weight, not like the stories of those -fellows on the staff who get rewards without doing anything!" - -"Of whom you imagine me to be one?" said Prince Andrew, with a quiet -and particularly amiable smile. - -A strange feeling of exasperation and yet of respect for this -man's self-possession mingled at that moment in Rostov's soul. - -"I am not talking about you," he said, "I don't know you and, -frankly, I don't want to. I am speaking of the staff in general." - -"And I will tell you this," Prince Andrew interrupted in a tone of -quiet authority, "you wish to insult me, and I am ready to agree -with you that it would be very easy to do so if you haven't sufficient -self-respect, but admit that the time and place are very badly chosen. -In a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater and more -serious duel, and besides, Drubetskoy, who says he is an old friend of -yours, is not at all to blame that my face has the misfortune to -displease you. However," he added rising, "you know my name and -where to find me, but don't forget that I do not regard either -myself or you as having been at all insulted, and as a man older -than you, my advice is to let the matter drop. Well then, on Friday -after the review I shall expect you, Drubetskoy. Au revoir!" exclaimed -Prince Andrew, and with a bow to them both he went out. - -Only when Prince Andrew was gone did Rostov think of what he ought -to have said. And he was still more angry at having omitted to say it. -He ordered his horse at once and, coldly taking leave of Boris, rode -home. Should he go to headquarters next day and challenge that -affected adjutant, or really let the matter drop, was the question -that worried him all the way. He thought angrily of the pleasure he -would have at seeing the fright of that small and frail but proud -man when covered by his pistol, and then he felt with surprise that of -all the men he knew there was none he would so much like to have for a -friend as that very adjutant whom he so hated. - -CHAPTER VIII - -The day after Rostov had been to see Boris, a review was held of the -Austrian and Russian troops, both those freshly arrived from Russia -and those who had been campaigning under Kutuzov. The two Emperors, -the Russian with his heir the Tsarevich, and the Austrian with the -Archduke, inspected the allied army of eighty thousand men. - -From early morning the smart clean troops were on the move, -forming up on the field before the fortress. Now thousands of feet and -bayonets moved and halted at the officers' command, turned with -banners flying, formed up at intervals, and wheeled round other -similar masses of infantry in different uniforms; now was heard the -rhythmic beat of hoofs and the jingling of showy cavalry in blue, red, -and green braided uniforms, with smartly dressed bandsmen in front -mounted on black, roan, or gray horses; then again, spreading out with -the brazen clatter of the polished shining cannon that quivered on the -gun carriages and with the smell of linstocks, came the artillery -which crawled between the infantry and cavalry and took up its -appointed position. Not only the generals in full parade uniforms, -with their thin or thick waists drawn in to the utmost, their red -necks squeezed into their stiff collars, and wearing scarves and all -their decorations, not only the elegant, pomaded officers, but every -soldier with his freshly washed and shaven face and his weapons -clean and polished to the utmost, and every horse groomed till its -coat shone like satin and every hair of its wetted mane lay smooth- -felt that no small matter was happening, but an important and solemn -affair. Every general and every soldier was conscious of his own -insignificance, aware of being but a drop in that ocean of men, and -yet at the same time was conscious of his strength as a part of that -enormous whole. - -From early morning strenuous activities and efforts had begun and by -ten o'clock all had been brought into due order. The ranks were -drown up on the vast field. The whole army was extended in three -lines: the cavalry in front, behind it the artillery, and behind -that again the infantry. - -A space like a street was left between each two lines of troops. The -three parts of that army were sharply distinguished: Kutuzov's -fighting army (with the Pavlograds on the right flank of the front); -those recently arrived from Russia, both Guards and regiments of the -line; and the Austrian troops. But they all stood in the same lines, -under one command, and in a like order. - -Like wind over leaves ran an excited whisper: "They're coming! -They're coming!" Alarmed voices were heard, and a stir of final -preparation swept over all the troops. - -From the direction of Olmutz in front of them, a group was seen -approaching. And at that moment, though the day was still, a light -gust of wind blowing over the army slightly stirred the streamers on -the lances and the unfolded standards fluttered against their -staffs. It looked as if by that slight motion the army itself was -expressing its joy at the approach of the Emperors. One voice was -heard shouting: "Eyes front!" Then, like the crowing of cocks at - -sunrise, this was repeated by others from various sides and all became -silent. - -In the deathlike stillness only the tramp of horses was heard. -This was the Emperors' suites. The Emperors rode up to the flank, -and the trumpets of the first cavalry regiment played the general -march. It seemed as though not the trumpeters were playing, but as -if the army itself, rejoicing at the Emperors' approach, had naturally -burst into music. Amid these sounds, only the youthful kindly voice of -the Emperor Alexander was clearly heard. He gave the words of -greeting, and the first regiment roared "Hurrah!" so deafeningly, -continuously, and joyfully that the men themselves were awed by -their multitude and the immensity of the power they constituted. - -Rostov, standing in the front lines of Kutuzov's army which the Tsar -approached first, experienced the same feeling as every other man in -that army: a feeling of self-forgetfulness, a proud consciousness of -might, and a passionate attraction to him who was the cause of this -triumph. - -He felt that at a single word from that man all this vast mass -(and he himself an insignificant atom in it) would go through fire and -water, commit crime, die, or perform deeds of highest heroism, and -so he could not but tremble and his heart stand still at the imminence -of that word. - -"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" thundered from all sides, one regiment -after another greeting the Tsar with the strains of the march, and -then "Hurrah!"... Then the general march, and again "Hurrah! -Hurrah!" growing ever stronger and fuller and merging into a deafening -roar. - -Till the Tsar reached it, each regiment in its silence and -immobility seemed like a lifeless body, but as soon as he came up it -became alive, its thunder joining the roar of the whole line along -which he had already passed. Through the terrible and deafening roar -of those voices, amid the square masses of troops standing -motionless as if turned to stone, hundreds of riders composing the -suites moved carelessly but symmetrically and above all freely, and in -front of them two men- the Emperors. Upon them the undivided, -tensely passionate attention of that whole mass of men was -concentrated. - -The handsome young Emperor Alexander, in the uniform of the Horse -Guards, wearing a cocked hat with its peaks front and back, with his -pleasant face and resonant though not loud voice, attracted everyone's -attention. - -Rostov was not far from the trumpeters, and with his keen sight -had recognized the Tsar and watched his approach. When he was within -twenty paces, and Nicholas could clearly distinguish every detail of -his handsome, happy young face, he experienced a feeling tenderness -and ecstasy such as he had never before known. Every trait and every -movement of the Tsar's seemed to him enchanting. - -Stopping in front of the Pavlograds, the Tsar said something in -French to the Austrian Emperor and smiled. - -Seeing that smile, Rostov involuntarily smiled himself and felt a -still stronger flow of love for his sovereign. He longed to show -that love in some way and knowing that this was impossible was ready -to cry. The Tsar called the colonel of the regiment and said a few -words to him. - -"Oh God, what would happen to me if the Emperor spoke to me?" -thought Rostov. "I should die of happiness!" - -The Tsar addressed the officers also: "I thank you all, gentlemen, I -thank you with my whole heart." To Rostov every word sounded like a -voice from heaven. How gladly would he have died at once for his Tsar! - -"You have earned the St. George's standards and will be worthy of -them." - -"Oh, to die, to die for him " thought Rostov. - -The Tsar said something more which Rostov did not hear, and the -soldiers, straining their lungs, shouted "Hurrah!" - -Rostov too, bending over his saddle, shouted "Hurrah!" with all -his might, feeling that he would like to injure himself by that shout, -if only to express his rapture fully. - -The Tsar stopped a few minutes in front of the hussars as if -undecided. - -"How can the Emperor be undecided?" thought Rostov, but then even -this indecision appeared to him majestic and enchanting, like -everything else the Tsar did. - -That hesitation lasted only an instant. The Tsar's foot, in the -narrow pointed boot then fashionable, touched the groin of the -bobtailed bay mare he rode, his hand in a white glove gathered up -the reins, and he moved off accompanied by an irregularly swaying -sea of aides-de-camp. Farther and farther he rode away, stopping at -other regiments, till at last only his white plumes were visible to -Rostov from amid the suites that surrounded the Emperors. - -Among the gentlemen of the suite, Rostov noticed Bolkonski, -sitting his horse indolently and carelessly. Rostov recalled their -quarrel of yesterday and the question presented itself whether he -ought or ought not to challenge Bolkonski. "Of course not!" he now -thought. "Is it worth thinking or speaking of it at such a moment? -At a time of such love, such rapture, and such self-sacrifice, what do -any of our quarrels and affronts matter? I love and forgive -everybody now." - -When the Emperor had passed nearly all the regiments, the troops -began a ceremonial march past him, and Rostov on Bedouin, recently -purchased from Denisov, rode past too, at the rear of his squadron- -that is, alone and in full view of the Emperor. - -Before he reached him, Rostov, who was a splendid horseman, -spurred Bedouin twice and successfully put him to the showy trot in -which the animal went when excited. Bending his foaming muzzle to -his chest, his tail extended, Bedouin, as if also conscious of the -Emperor's eye upon him, passed splendidly, lifting his feet with a -high and graceful action, as if flying through the air without -touching the ground. - -Rostov himself, his legs well back and his stomach drawn in and -feeling himself one with his horse, rode past the Emperor with a -frowning but blissful face "like a vewy devil," as Denisov expressed -it. - -"Fine fellows, the Pavlograds!" remarked the Emperor. - -"My God, how happy I should be if he ordered me to leap into the -fire this instant!" thought Rostov. - -When the review was over, the newly arrived officers, and also -Kutuzov's, collected in groups and began to talk about the awards, -about the Austrians and their uniforms, about their lines, about -Bonaparte, and how badly the latter would fare now, especially if -the Essen corps arrived and Prussia took our side. - -But the talk in every group was chiefly about the Emperor Alexander. -His every word and movement was described with ecstasy. - -They all had but one wish: to advance as soon as possible against -the enemy under the Emperor's command. Commanded by the Emperor -himself they could not fail to vanquish anyone, be it whom it might: -so thought Rostov and most of the officers after the review. - -All were then more confident of victory than the winning of two -battles would have made them. - -CHAPTER IX - -The day after the review, Boris, in his best uniform and with his -comrade Berg's best wishes for success, rode to Olmutz to see -Bolkonski, wishing to profit by his friendliness and obtain for -himself the best post he could- preferably that of adjutant to some -important personage, a position in the army which seemed to him most -attractive. "It is all very well for Rostov, whose father sends him -ten thousand rubles at a time, to talk about not wishing to cringe -to anybody and not be anyone's lackey, but I who have nothing but my -brains have to make a career and must not miss opportunities, but must -avail myself of them!" he reflected. - -He did not find Prince Andrew in Olmutz that day, but the appearance -of the town where the headquarters and the diplomatic corps were -stationed and the two Emperors were living with their suites, -households, and courts only strengthened his desire to belong to -that higher world. - -He knew no one, and despite his smart Guardsman's uniform, all these -exalted personages passing in the streets in their elegant carriages -with their plumes, ribbons, and medals, both courtiers and military -men, seemed so immeasurably above him, an insignificant officer of the -Guards, that they not only did not wish to, but simply could not, be -aware of his existence. At the quarters of the commander in chief, -Kutuzov, where he inquired for Bolkonski, all the adjutants and even -the orderlies looked at him as if they wished to impress on him that a -great many officers like him were always coming there and that -everybody was heartily sick of them. In spite of this, or rather -because of it, next day, November 15, after dinner he again went to -Olmutz and, entering the house occupied by Kutuzov, asked for -Bolkonski. Prince Andrew was in and Boris was shown into a large -hall probably formerly used for dancing, but in which five beds now -stood, and furniture of various kinds: a table, chairs, and a -clavichord. One adjutant, nearest the door, was sitting at the table -in a Persian dressing gown, writing. Another, the red, stout -Nesvitski, lay on a bed with his arms under his head, laughing with an -officer who had sat down beside him. A third was playing a Viennese -waltz on the clavichord, while a fourth, lying on the clavichord, sang -the tune. Bolkonski was not there. None of these gentlemen changed his -position on seeing Boris. The one who was writing and whom Boris -addressed turned round crossly and told him Bolkonski was on duty -and that he should go through the door on the left into the -reception room if he wished to see him. Boris thanked him and went -to the reception room, where he found some ten officers and generals. - -When he entered, Prince Andrew, his eyes drooping contemptuously -(with that peculiar expression of polite weariness which plainly says, -"If it were not my duty I would not talk to you for a moment"), was -listening to an old Russian general with decorations, who stood very -erect, almost on tiptoe, with a soldier's obsequious expression on his -purple face, reporting something. - -"Very well, then, be so good as to wait," said Prince Andrew to - -the general, in Russian, speaking with the French intonation he -affected when he wished to speak contemptuously, and noticing Boris, -Prince Andrew, paying no more heed to the general who ran after him -imploring him to hear something more, nodded and turned to him with -a cheerful smile. - -At that moment Boris clearly realized what he had before surmised, -that in the army, besides the subordination and discipline -prescribed in the military code, which he and the others knew in the -regiment, there was another, more important, subordination, which made -this tight-laced, purple-faced general wait respectfully while Captain -Prince Andrew, for his own pleasure, chose to chat with Lieutenant -Drubetskoy. More than ever was Boris resolved to serve in future not -according to the written code, but under this unwritten law. He felt -now that merely by having been recommended to Prince Andrew he had -already risen above the general who at the front had the power to -annihilate him, a lieutenant of the Guards. Prince Andrew came up to -him and took his hand. - -"I am very sorry you did not find me in yesterday. I was fussing -about with Germans all day. We went with Weyrother to survey the -dispositions. When Germans start being accurate, there's no end to -it!" - -Boris smiled, as if he understood what Prince Andrew was alluding to -as something generally known. But it the first time he had heard -Weyrother's name, or even the term "dispositions." - -"Well, my dear fellow, so you still want to be an adjutant? I have -been thinking about you." - -"Yes, I was thinking"- for some reason Boris could not help -blushing- "of asking the commander in chief. He has had a letter -from Prince Kuragin about me. I only wanted to ask because I fear -the Guards won't be in action," he added as if in apology. - -"All right, all right. We'll talk it over," replied Prince Andrew. -"Only let me report this gentleman's business, and I shall be at -your disposal." - -While Prince Andrew went to report about the purple-faced general, -that gentleman- evidently not sharing Boris' conception of the -advantages of the unwritten code of subordination- looked so fixedly -at the presumptuous lieutenant who had prevented his finishing what he -had to say to the adjutant that Boris felt uncomfortable. He turned -away and waited impatiently for Prince Andrew's return from the -commander in chief's room. - -"You see, my dear fellow, I have been thinking about you," said -Prince Andrew when they had gone into the large room where the -clavichord was. "It's no use your going to the commander in chief. -He would say a lot of pleasant things, ask you to dinner" ("That would -not be bad as regards the unwritten code," thought Boris), "but -nothing more would come of it. There will soon be a battalion of us -aides-de-camp and adjutants! But this is what we'll do: I have a -good friend, an adjutant general and an excellent fellow, Prince -Dolgorukov; and though you may not know it, the fact is that now -Kutuzov with his staff and all of us count for nothing. Everything -is now centered round the Emperor. So we will go to Dolgorukov; I have -to go there anyhow and I have already spoken to him about you. We -shall see whether he cannot attach you to himself or find a place -for you somewhere nearer the sun." - -Prince Andrew always became specially keen when he had to guide a -young man and help him to worldly success. Under cover of obtaining -help of this kind for another, which from pride he would never -accept for himself, he kept in touch with the circle which confers -success and which attracted him. He very readily took up Boris' -cause and went with him to Dolgorukov. - -It was late in the evening when they entered the palace at Olmutz -occupied by the Emperors and their retinues. - -That same day a council of war had been held in which all the -members of the Hofkriegsrath and both Emperors took part. At that -council, contrary to the views of the old generals Kutuzov and -Prince Schwartzenberg, it had been decided to advance immediately -and give battle to Bonaparte. The council of war was just over when -Prince Andrew accompanied by Boris arrived at the palace to find -Dolgorukov. Everyone at headquarters was still under the spell of -the day's council, at which the party of the young had triumphed. -The voices of those who counseled delay and advised waiting for -something else before advancing had been so completely silenced and -their arguments confuted by such conclusive evidence of the advantages -of attacking that what had been discussed at the council- the coming -battle and the victory that would certainly result from it- no -longer seemed to be in the future but in the past. All the -advantages were on our side. Our enormous forces, undoubtedly superior -to Napoleon's, were concentrated in one place, the troops inspired -by the Emperors' presence were eager for action. The strategic -position where the operations would take place was familiar in all its -details to the Austrian General Weyrother: a lucky accident had -ordained that the Austrian army should maneuver the previous year on -the very fields where the French had now to be fought; the adjacent -locality was known and shown in every detail on the maps, and -Bonaparte, evidently weakened, was undertaking nothing. - -Dolgorukov, one of the warmest advocates of an attack, had just -returned from the council, tired and exhausted but eager and proud -of the victory that had been gained. Prince Andrew introduced his -protege, but Prince Dolgorukov politely and firmly pressing his hand -said nothing to Boris and, evidently unable to suppress the thoughts -which were uppermost in his mind at that moment, addressed Prince -Andrew in French. - -"Ah, my dear fellow, what a battle we have gained! God grant that -the one that will result from it will be as victorious! However, -dear fellow," he said abruptly and eagerly, "I must confess to -having been unjust to the Austrians and especially to Weyrother. -What exactitude, what minuteness, what knowledge of the locality, what -foresight for every eventuality, every possibility even to the -smallest detail! No, my dear fellow, no conditions better than our -present ones could have been devised. This combination of Austrian -precision with Russian valor- what more could be wished for?" - -"So the attack is definitely resolved on?" asked Bolkonski. - -"And do you know, my dear fellow, it seems to me that Bonaparte -has decidedly lost bearings, you know that a letter was received -from him today for the Emperor." Dolgorukov smiled significantly. - -"Is that so? And what did he say?" inquired Bolkonski. - -"What can he say? Tra-di-ri-di-ra and so on... merely to gain -time. I tell you he is in our hands, that's certain! But what was most -amusing," he continued, with a sudden, good-natured laugh, "was that -we could not think how to address the reply! If not as 'Consul' and of -course not as 'Emperor,' it seemed to me it should be to 'General -Bonaparte.'" - -"But between not recognizing him as Emperor and calling him -General Bonaparte, there is a difference," remarked Bolkonski. - -"That's just it," interrupted Dolgorukov quickly, laughing. "You -know Bilibin- he's a very clever fellow. He suggested addressing him -as 'Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.'" - -Dolgorukov laughed merrily. - -"Only that?" said Bolkonski. - -"All the same, it was Bilibin who found a suitable form for the -address. He is a wise and clever fellow." - -"What was it?" - -"To the Head of the French Government... Au chef du gouvernement -francais," said Dolgorukov, with grave satisfaction. "Good, wasn't -it?" - -"Yes, but he will dislike it extremely," said Bolkonski. - -"Oh yes, very much! My brother knows him, he's dined with him- the -present Emperor- more than once in Paris, and tells me he never met -a more cunning or subtle diplomatist- you know, a combination of -French adroitness and Italian play-acting! Do you know the tale -about him and Count Markov? Count Markov was the only man who knew how -to handle him. You know the story of the handkerchief? It is -delightful!" - -And the talkative Dolgorukov, turning now to Boris, now to Prince -Andrew, told how Bonaparte wishing to test Markov, our ambassador, -purposely dropped a handkerchief in front of him and stood looking -at Markov, probably expecting Markov to pick it up for him, and how -Markov immediately dropped his own beside it and picked it up -without touching Bonaparte's. - -"Delightful!" said Bolkonski. "But I have come to you, Prince, as -a petitioner on behalf of this young man. You see..." but before -Prince Andrew could finish, an aide-de-camp came in to summon -Dolgorukov to the Emperor. - -"Oh, what a nuisance," said Dolgorukov, getting up hurriedly and -pressing the hands of Prince Andrew and Boris. "You know I should be -very glad to do all in my power both for you and for this dear young -man." Again he pressed the hand of the latter with an expression of -good-natured, sincere, and animated levity. "But you see... another -time!" - -Boris was excited by the thought of being so close to the higher -powers as he felt himself to be at that moment. He was conscious -that here he was in contact with the springs that set in motion the -enormous movements of the mass of which in his regiment he felt -himself a tiny, obedient, and insignificant atom. They followed Prince -Dolgorukov out into the corridor and met- coming out of the door of -the Emperor's room by which Dolgorukov had entered- a short man in -civilian clothes with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw -which, without spoiling his face, gave him a peculiar vivacity and -shiftiness of expression. This short man nodded to Dolgorukov as to an -intimate friend and stared at Prince Andrew with cool intensity, -walking straight toward him and evidently expecting him to bow or to -step out of his way. Prince Andrew did neither: a look of animosity -appeared on his face and the other turned away and went down the -side of the corridor. - -"Who was that?" asked Boris. - -"He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men- -the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartoryski.... It is -such men as he who decide the fate of nations," added Bolkonski with a -sigh he could not suppress, as they passed out of the palace. - -Next day, the army began its campaign, and up to the very battle -of Austerlitz, Boris was unable to see either Prince Andrew or -Dolgorukov again and remained for a while with the Ismaylov regiment. - -CHAPTER X - -At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which -Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment, -moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into -action as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two -thirds of a mile was stopped on the highroad. Rostov saw the -Cossacks and then the first and second squadrons of hussars and -infantry battalions and artillery pass by and go forward and then -Generals Bagration and Dolgorukov ride past with their adjutants. -All the fear before action which he had experienced as previously, all -the inner struggle to conquer that fear, all his dreams of -distinguishing himself as a true hussar in this battle, had been -wasted. Their squadron remained in reserve and Nicholas Rostov spent -that day in a dull and wretched mood. At nine in the morning, he heard -firing in front and shouts of hurrah, and saw wounded being brought -back (there were not many of them), and at last he saw how a whole -detachment of French cavalry was brought in, convoyed by a sontnya -of Cossacks. Evidently the affair was over and, though not big, had -been a successful engagement. The men and officers returning spoke -of a brilliant victory, of the occupation of the town of Wischau and -the capture of a whole French squadron. The day was bright and sunny -after a sharp night frost, and the cheerful glitter of that autumn day -was in keeping with the news of victory which was conveyed, not only -by the tales of those who had taken part in it, but also by the joyful -expression on the faces of soldiers, officers, generals, and -adjutants, as they passed Rostov going or coming. And Nicholas, who -had vainly suffered all the dread that precedes a battle and had spent -that happy day in inactivity, was all the more depressed. - -"Come here, Wostov. Let's dwink to dwown our gwief!" shouted -Denisov, who had settled down by the roadside with a flask and some -food. - -The officers gathered round Denisov's canteen, eating and talking. - -"There! They are bringing another!" cried one of the officers, -indicating a captive French dragoon who was being brought in on foot -by two Cossacks. - -One of them was leading by the bridle a fine large French horse he -had taken from the prisoner. - -"Sell us that horse!" Denisov called out to the Cossacks. - -"If you like, your honor!" - -The officers got up and stood round the Cossacks and their prisoner. -The French dragoon was a young Alsatian who spoke French with a German -accent. He was breathless with agitation, his face was red, and when -he heard some French spoken he at once began speaking to the officers, -addressing first one, then another. He said he would not have been -taken, it was not his fault but the corporal's who had sent him to -seize some horsecloths, though he had told him the Russians were -there. And at every word he added: "But don't hurt my little horse!" -and stroked the animal. It was plain that he did not quite grasp where -he was. Now he excused himself for having been taken prisoner and now, -imagining himself before his own officers, insisted on his soldierly -discipline and zeal in the service. He brought with him into our -rearguard all the freshness of atmosphere of the French army, which -was so alien to us. - -The Cossacks sold the horse for two gold pieces, and Rostov, being -the richest of the officers now that he had received his money, bought -it. - -"But don't hurt my little horse!" said the Alsatian good-naturedly -to Rostov when the animal was handed over to the hussar. - -Rostov smilingly reassured the dragoon and gave him money. - -"Alley! Alley!" said the Cossack, touching the prisoner's arm to -make him go on. - -"The Emperor! The Emperor!" was suddenly heard among the hussars. - -All began to run and bustle, and Rostov saw coming up the road -behind him several riders with white plumes in their hats. In a moment -everyone was in his place, waiting. - -Rostov did not know or remember how he ran to his place and mounted. -Instantly his regret at not having been in action and his dejected -mood amid people of whom he was weary had gone, instantly every -thought of himself had vanished. He was filled with happiness at his -nearness to the Emperor. He felt that this nearness by itself made -up to him for the day he had lost. He was happy as a lover when the -longed-for moment of meeting arrives. Not daring to look round and -without looking round, he was ecstatically conscious of his -approach. He felt it not only from the sound of the hoofs of the -approaching cavalcade, but because as he drew near everything grew -brighter, more joyful, more significant, and more festive around -him. Nearer and nearer to Rostov came that sun shedding beams of -mild and majestic light around, and already he felt himself -enveloped in those beams, he heard his voice, that kindly, calm, and -majestic voice that was yet so simple! And as if in accord with -Rostov's feeling, there was a deathly stillness amid which was heard -the Emperor's voice. - -"The Pavlograd hussars?" he inquired. - -"The reserves, sire!" replied a voice, a very human one compared -to that which had said: "The Pavlograd hussars?" - -The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander's face -was even more beautiful than it had been three days before at the -review. It shone with such gaiety and youth, such innocent youth, that -it suggested the liveliness of a fourteen-year-old boy, and yet it was -the face of the majestic Emperor. Casually, while surveying the -squadron, the Emperor's eyes met Rostov's and rested on them for not -more than two seconds. Whether or no the Emperor understood what was -going on in Rostov's soul (it seemed to Rostov that he understood -everything), at any rate his light-blue eyes gazed for about two -seconds into Rostov's face. A gentle, mild light poured from them. -Then all at once he raised his eyebrows, abruptly touched his horse -with his left foot, and galloped on. - -The younger Emperor could not restrain his wish to be present at the -battle and, in spite of the remonstrances of his courtiers, at -twelve o'clock left the third column with which he had been and -galloped toward the vanguard. Before he came up with the hussars, -several adjutants met him with news of the successful result of the -action. - -This battle, which consisted in the capture of a French squadron, -was represented as a brilliant victory over the French, and so the -Emperor and the whole army, especially while the smoke hung over the -battlefield, believed that the French had been defeated and were -retreating against their will. A few minutes after the Emperor had -passed, the Pavlograd division was ordered to advance. In Wischau -itself, a petty German town, Rostov saw the Emperor again. In the -market place, where there had been some rather heavy firing before the -Emperor's arrival, lay several killed and wounded soldiers whom -there had not been time to move. The Emperor, surrounded by his -suite of officers and courtiers, was riding a bobtailed chestnut mare, -a different one from that which he had ridden at the review, and -bending to one side he gracefully held a gold lorgnette to his eyes -and looked at a soldier who lay prone, with blood on his uncovered -head. The wounded soldier was so dirty, coarse, and revolting that his -proximity to the Emperor shocked Rostov. Rostov saw how the -Emperor's rather round shoulders shuddered as if a cold shiver had run -down them, how his left foot began convulsively tapping the horse's -side with the spur, and how the well-trained horse looked round -unconcerned and did not stir. An adjutant, dismounting, lifted the -soldier under the arms to place him on a stretcher that had been -brought. The soldier groaned. - -"Gently, gently! Can't you do it more gently?" said the Emperor -apparently suffering more than the dying soldier, and he rode away. - -Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor's eyes and heard him, as he was -riding away, say to Czartoryski: "What a terrible thing war is: what a -terrible thing! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!" - -The troops of the vanguard were stationed before Wischau, within -sight of the enemy's lines, which all day long had yielded ground to -us at the least firing. The Emperor's gratitude was announced to the -vanguard, rewards were promised, and the men received a double -ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and the soldiers' songs -resounded even more merrily than on the previous night. Denisov -celebrated his promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, who had -already drunk enough, at the end of the feast proposed the Emperor's -health. "Not 'our Sovereign, the Emperor,' as they say at official -dinners," said he, "but the health of our Sovereign, that good, -enchanting, and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the -certain defeat of the French!" - -"If we fought before," he said, "not letting the French pass, as -at Schon Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We -will all die for him gladly! Is it not so, gentlemen? Perhaps I am not -saying it right, I have drunk a good deal- but that is how I feel, and -so do you too! To the health of Alexander the First! Hurrah!" - -"Hurrah!" rang the enthusiastic voices of the officers. - -And the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted enthusiastically and -no less sincerely than the twenty-year-old Rostov. - -When the officers had emptied and smashed their glasses, Kirsten -filled others and, in shirt sleeves and breeches, went glass in hand -to the soldiers' bonfires and with his long gray mustache, his white -chest showing under his open shirt, he stood in a majestic pose in the -light of the campfire, waving his uplifted arm. - -"Lads! here's to our Sovereign, the Emperor, and victory over our -enemies! Hurrah!" he exclaimed in his dashing, old, hussar's baritone. - -The hussars crowded round and responded heartily with loud shouts. - -Late that night, when all had separated, Denisov with his short hand -patted his favorite, Rostov, on the shoulder. - -"As there's no one to fall in love with on campaign, he's fallen -in love with the Tsar," he said. - -"Denisov, don't make fun of it!" cried Rostov. "It is such a -lofty, beautiful feeling, such a..." - -"I believe it, I believe it, fwiend, and I share and appwove..." - -"No, you don't understand!" - -And Rostov got up and went wandering among the campfires, dreaming -of what happiness it would be to die- not in saving the Emperor's life -(he did not even dare to dream of that), but simply to die before -his eyes. He really was in love with the Tsar and the glory of the -Russian arms and the hope of future triumph. And he was not the only -man to experience that feeling during those memorable days preceding -the battle of Austerlitz: nine tenths of the men in the Russian army -were then in love, though less ecstatically, with their Tsar and the -glory of the Russian arms. - -CHAPTER XI - -The next day the Emperor stopped at Wischau, and Villier, his -physician, was repeatedly summoned to see him. At headquarters and -among the troops near by the news spread that the Emperor was -unwell. He ate nothing and had slept badly that night, those around -him reported. The cause of this indisposition was the strong -impression made on his sensitive mind by the sight of the killed and -wounded. - -At daybreak on the seventeenth, a French officer who had come with a -flag of truce, demanding an audience with the Russian Emperor, was -brought into Wischau from our outposts. This officer was Savary. The -Emperor had only just fallen asleep and so Savary had to wait. At -midday he was admitted to the Emperor, and an hour later he rode off -with Prince Dolgorukov to the advanced post of the French army. - -It was rumored that Savary had been sent to propose to Alexander a -meeting with Napoleon. To the joy and pride of the whole army, a -personal interview was refused, and instead of the Sovereign, Prince -Dolgorukov, the victor at Wischau, was sent with Savary to negotiate -with Napoleon if, contrary to expectations, these negotiations were -actuated by a real desire for peace. - -Toward evening Dolgorukov came back, went straight to the Tsar, -and remained alone with him for a long time. - -On the eighteenth and nineteenth of November, the army advanced -two days' march and the enemy's outposts after a brief interchange -of shots retreated. In the highest army circles from midday on the -nineteenth, a great, excitedly bustling activity began which lasted -till the morning of the twentieth, when the memorable battle of -Austerlitz was fought. - -Till midday on the nineteenth, the activity- the eager talk, running -to and fro, and dispatching of adjutants- was confined to the -Emperor's headquarters. But on the afternoon of that day, this -activity reached Kutiizov's headquarters and the staffs of the -commanders of columns. By evening, the adjutants had spread it to -all ends and parts of the army, and in the night from the nineteenth -to the twentieth, the whole eighty thousand allied troops rose from -their bivouacs to the hum of voices, and the army swayed and started -in one enormous mass six miles long. - -The concentrated activity which had begun at the Emperor's -headquarters in the morning and had started the whole movement that -followed was like the first movement of the main wheel of a large -tower clock. One wheel slowly moved, another was set in motion, and -a third, and wheels began to revolve faster and faster, levers and -cogwheels to work, chimes to play, figures to pop out, and the hands -to advance with regular motion as a result of all that activity. - -Just as in the mechanism of a clock, so in the mechanism of the -military machine, an impulse once given leads to the final result; and -just as indifferently quiescent till the moment when motion is -transmitted to them are the parts of the mechanism which the impulse -has not yet reached. Wheels creak on their axles as the cogs engage -one another and the revolving pulleys whirr with the rapidity of their -movement, but a neighboring wheel is as quiet and motionless as though -it were prepared to remain so for a hundred years; but the moment -comes when the lever catches it and obeying the impulse that wheel -begins to creak and joins in the common motion the result and aim of -which are beyond its ken. - -Just as in a clock, the result of the complicated motion of -innumerable wheels and pulleys is merely a slow and regular movement -of the hands which show the time, so the result of all the complicated -human activities of 160,000 Russians and French- all their passions, -desires, remorse, humiliations, sufferings, outbursts of pride, -fear, and enthusiasm- was only the loss of the battle of Austerlitz, -the so-called battle of the three Emperors- that is to say, a slow -movement of the hand on the dial of human history. - -Prince Andrew was on duty that day and in constant attendance on the -commander in chief. - -At six in the evening, Kutuzov went to the Emperor's headquarters -and after staying but a short time with the Tsar went to see the grand -marshal of the court, Count Tolstoy. - -Bolkonski took the opportunity to go in to get some details of the -coming action from Dolgorukov. He felt that Kutuzov was upset and -dissatisfied about something and that at headquarters they were -dissatisfied with him, and also that at the Emperor's headquarters -everyone adopted toward him the tone of men who know something -others do not know: he therefore wished to speak to Dolgorukov. - -"Well, how d'you do, my dear fellow?" said Dolgorukov, who was -sitting at tea with Bilibin. "The fete is for tomorrow. How is your -old fellow? Out of sorts?" - -"I won't say he is out of sorts, but I fancy he would like to be -heard." - -"But they heard him at the council of war and will hear him when -he talks sense, but to temporize and wait for something now when -Bonaparte fears nothing so much as a general battle is impossible." - -"Yes, you have seen him?" said Prince Andrew. "Well, what is -Bonaparte like? How did he impress you?" - -"Yes, I saw him, and am convinced that he fears nothing so much as a -general engagement," repeated Dolgorukov, evidently prizing this -general conclusion which he had arrived at from his interview with -Napoleon. "If he weren't afraid of a battle why did he ask for that -interview? Why negotiate, and above all why retreat, when to retreat -is so contrary to his method of conducting war? Believe me, he is -afraid, afraid of a general battle. His hour has come! Mark my words!" - -"But tell me, what is he like, eh?" said Prince Andrew again. - -"He is a man in a gray overcoat, very anxious that I should call him -'Your Majesty,' but who, to his chagrin, got no title from me! -That's the sort of man he is, and nothing more," replied Dolgorukov, -looking round at Bilibin with a smile. - -"Despite my great respect for old Kutuzov," he continued, "we should -be a nice set of fellows if we were to wait about and so give him a -chance to escape, or to trick us, now that we certainly have him in -our hands! No, we mustn't forget Suvorov and his rule- not to put -yourself in a position to be attacked, but yourself to attack. Believe -me in war the energy of young men often shows the way better than -all the experience of old Cunctators." - -"But in what position are we going to attack him? I have been at the -outposts today and it is impossible to say where his chief forces -are situated," said Prince Andrew. - -He wished to explain to Dolgorukov a plan of attack he had himself -formed. - -"Oh, that is all the same," Dolgorukov said quickly, and getting -up he spread a map on the table. "All eventualities have been -foreseen. If he is standing before Brunn..." - -And Prince Dolgorukov rapidly but indistinctly explained Weyrother's -plan of a flanking movement. - -Prince Andrew began to reply and to state his own plan, which -might have been as good as Weyrother's, but for the disadvantage -that Weyrother's had already been approved. As soon as Prince Andrew -began to demonstrate the defects of the latter and the merits of his -own plan, Prince Dolgorukov ceased to listen to him and gazed -absent-mindedly not at the map, but at Prince Andrew's face. - -"There will be a council of war at Kutuzov's tonight, though; you -can say all this there," remarked Dolgorukov. - -"I will do so," said Prince Andrew, moving away from the map. - -"Whatever are you bothering about, gentlemen?" said Bilibin, who, -till then, had listened with an amused smile to their conversation and -now was evidently ready with a joke. "Whether tomorrow brings -victory or defeat, the glory of our Russian arms is secure. Except -your Kutuzov, there is not a single Russian in command of a column! -The commanders are: Herr General Wimpfen, le Comte de Langeron, le -Prince de Lichtenstein, le Prince, de Hohenlohe, and finally -Prishprish, and so on like all those Polish names." - -"Be quiet, backbiter!" said Dolgorukov. "It is not true; there are -now two Russians, Miloradovich, and Dokhturov, and there would be a -third, Count Arakcheev, if his nerves were not too weak." - -"However, I think General Kutuzov has come out," said Prince Andrew. -"I wish you good luck and success, gentlemen!" he added and went out -after shaking hands with Dolgorukov and Bilibin. - -On the way home, Prince Andrew could not refrain from asking -Kutuzov, who was sitting silently beside him, what he thought of -tomorrow's battle. - -Kutuzov looked sternly at his adjutant and, after a pause, -replied: "I think the battle will be lost, and so I told Count Tolstoy -and asked him to tell the Emperor. What do you think he replied? 'But, -my dear general, I am engaged with rice and cutlets, look after -military matters yourself!' Yes... That was the answer I got!" - -CHAPTER XII - -Shortly after nine o'clock that evening, Weyrother drove with his -plans to Kutuzov's quarters where the council of war was to be held. -All the commanders of columns were summoned to the commander in -chief's and with the exception of Prince Bagration, who declined to -come, were all there at the appointed time. - -Weyrother, who was in full control of the proposed battle, by his -eagerness and briskness presented a marked contrast to the -dissatisfied and drowsy Kutuzov, who reluctantly played the part of -chairman and president of the council of war. Weyrother evidently felt -himself to be at the head of a movement that had already become -unrestrainable. He was like a horse running downhill harnessed to a -heavy cart. Whether he was pulling it or being pushed by it he did not -know, but rushed along at headlong speed with no time to consider what -this movement might lead to. Weyrother had been twice that evening -to the enemy's picket line to reconnoiter personally, and twice to the -Emperors, Russian and Austrian, to report and explain, and to his -headquarters where he had dictated the dispositions in German, and -now, much exhausted, he arrived at Kutuzov's. - -He was evidently so busy that he even forgot to be polite to the -commander in chief. He interrupted him, talked rapidly and -indistinctly, without looking at the man he was addressing, and did -not reply to questions put to him. He was bespattered with mud and had -a pitiful, weary, and distracted air, though at the same time he was -haughty and self-confident. - -Kutuzov was occupying a nobleman's castle of modest dimensions -near Ostralitz. In the large drawing room which had become the -commander in chief's office were gathered Kutuzov himself, -Weyrother, and the members of the council of war. They were drinking -tea, and only awaited Prince Bagration to begin the council. At last -Bagration's orderly came with the news that the prince could not -attend. Prince Andrew came in to inform the commander in chief of this -and, availing himself of permission previously given him by Kutuzov to -be present at the council, he remained in the room. - -"Since Prince Bagration is not coming, we may begin," said -Weyrother, hurriedly rising from his seat and going up to the table on -which an enormous map of the environs of Brunn was spread out. - -Kutuzov, with his uniform unbuttoned so that his fat neck bulged -over his collar as if escaping, was sitting almost asleep in a low -chair, with his podgy old hands resting symmetrically on its arms. -At the sound of Weyrother's voice, he opened his one eye with an -effort. - -"Yes, yes, if you please! It is already late," said he, and -nodding his head he let it droop and again closed his eye. - -If at first the members of the council thought that Kutuzov was -pretending to sleep, the sounds his nose emitted during the reading -that followed proved that the commander in chief at that moment was -absorbed by a far more serious matter than a desire to show his -contempt for the dispositions or anything else- he was engaged in -satisfying the irresistible human need for sleep. He really was -asleep. Weyrother, with the gesture of a man too busy to lose a -moment, glanced at Kutuzov and, having convinced himself that he was -asleep, took up a paper and in a loud, monotonous voice began to -read out the dispositions for the impending battle, under a heading -which he also read out: - -"Dispositions for an attack on the enemy position behind Kobelnitz -and Sokolnitz, November 30, 1805." - -The dispositions were very complicated and difficult. They began -as follows: - -"As the enemy's left wing rests on wooded hills and his right -extends along Kobelnitz and Sokolnitz behind the ponds that are there, -while we, on the other hand, with our left wing by far outflank his -right, it is advantageous to attack the enemy's latter wing especially -if we occupy the villages of Sokolnitz and Kobelnitz, whereby we can -both fall on his flank and pursue him over the plain between -Schlappanitz and the Thuerassa forest, avoiding the defiles of -Schlappanitz and Bellowitz which cover the enemy's front. For this -object it is necessary that... The first column marches... The -second column marches... The third column marches..." and so on, -read Weyrother. - -The generals seemed to listen reluctantly to the difficult -dispositions. The tall, fair-haired General Buxhowden stood, leaning -his back against the wall, his eyes fixed on a burning candle, and -seemed not to listen or even to wish to be thought to listen. -Exactly opposite Weyrother, with his glistening wide-open eyes fixed -upon him and his mustache twisted upwards, sat the ruddy -Miloradovich in a military pose, his elbows turned outwards, his hands -on his knees, and his shoulders raised. He remained stubbornly silent, -gazing at Weyrother's face, and only turned away his eyes when the -Austrian chief of staff finished reading. Then Miloradovich looked -round significantly at the other generals. But one could not tell from -that significant look whether he agreed or disagreed and was satisfied -or not with the arrangements. Next to Weyrother sat Count Langeron -who, with a subtle smile that never left his typically southern French -face during the whole time of the reading, gazed at his delicate -fingers which rapidly twirled by its corners a gold snuffbox on -which was a portrait. In the middle of one of the longest sentences, -he stopped the rotary motion of the snuffbox, raised his head, and -with inimical politeness lurking in the corners of his thin lips -interrupted Weyrother, wishing to say something. But the Austrian -general, continuing to read, frowned angrily and jerked his elbows, as -if to say: "You can tell me your views later, but now be so good as to -look at the map and listen." Langeron lifted his eyes with an -expression of perplexity, turned round to Miloradovich as if seeking -an explanation, but meeting the latter's impressive but meaningless -gaze drooped his eyes sadly and again took to twirling his snuffbox. - -"A geography lesson!" he muttered as if to himself, but loud -enough to be heard. - -Przebyszewski, with respectful but dignified politeness, held his -hand to his ear toward Weyrother, with the air of a man absorbed in -attention. Dohkturov, a little man, sat opposite Weyrother, with an -assiduous and modest mien, and stooping over the outspread map -conscientiously studied the dispositions and the unfamiliar -locality. He asked Weyrother several times to repeat words he had -not clearly heard and the difficult names of villages. Weyrother -complied and Dohkturov noted them down. - -When the reading which lasted more than an hour was over, Langeron -again brought his snuffbox to rest and, without looking at Weyrother -or at anyone in particular, began to say how difficult it was to carry -out such a plan in which the enemy's position was assumed to be known, -whereas it was perhaps not known, since the enemy was in movement. -Langeron's objections were valid but it was obvious that their chief -aim was to show General Weyrother- who had read his dispositions -with as much self-confidence as if he were addressing school children- -that he had to do, not with fools, but with men who could teach him -something in military matters. - -When the monotonous sound of Weyrother's voice ceased, Kutuzov -opened his eye as a miller wakes up when the soporific drone of the -mill wheel is interrupted. He listened to what Langeron said, as if -remarking, "So you are still at that silly business!" quickly closed -his eye again, and let his head sink still lower. - -Langeron, trying as virulently as possible to sting Weyrother's -vanity as author of the military plan, argued that Bonaparte might -easily attack instead of being attacked, and so render the whole of -this plan perfectly worthless. Weyrother met all objections with a -firm and contemptuous smile, evidently prepared beforehand to meet all -objections be they what they might. - -"If he could attack us, he would have done so today," said he. - -"So you think he is powerless?" said Langeron. - -"He has forty thousand men at most," replied Weyrother, with the -smile of a doctor to whom an old wife wishes to explain the -treatment of a case. - -"In that case he is inviting his doom by awaiting our attack," -said Langeron, with a subtly ironical smile, again glancing round -for support to Miloradovich who was near him. - -But Miloradovich was at that moment evidently thinking of anything -rather than of what the generals were disputing about. - -"Ma foi!" said he, "tomorrow we shall see all that on the -battlefield." - -Weyrother again gave that smile which seemed to say that to him it -was strange and ridiculous to meet objections from Russian generals -and to have to prove to them what he had not merely convinced -himself of, but had also convinced the sovereign Emperors of. - -"The enemy has quenched his fires and a continual noise is heard -from his camp," said he. "What does that mean? Either he is -retreating, which is the only thing we need fear, or he is changing -his position." (He smiled ironically.) "But even if he also took up -a position in the Thuerassa, he merely saves us a great deal of -trouble and all our arrangements to the minutest detail remain the -same." - -"How is that?..." began Prince Andrew, who had for long been waiting -an opportunity to express his doubts. - -Kutuzov here woke up, coughed heavily, and looked round at the -generals. - -"Gentlemen, the dispositions for tomorrow- or rather for today, -for it is past midnight- cannot now be altered," said he. "You have -heard them, and we shall all do our duty. But before a battle, there -is nothing more important..." he paused, "than to have a good sleep." - -He moved as if to rise. The generals bowed and retired. It was -past midnight. Prince Andrew went out. - -The council of war, at which Prince Andrew had not been able to -express his opinion as he had hoped to, left on him a vague and uneasy -impression. Whether Dolgorukov and Weyrother, or Kutuzov, Langeron, -and the others who did not approve of the plan of attack, were -right- he did not know. "But was it really not possible for Kutuzov to -state his views plainly to the Emperor? Is it possible that on account -of court and personal considerations tens of thousands of lives, and -my life, my life," he thought, "must be risked?" - -"Yes, it is very likely that I shall be killed tomorrow," he -thought. And suddenly, at this thought of death, a whole series of -most distant, most intimate, memories rose in his imagination: he -remembered his last parting from his father and his wife; he -remembered the days when he first loved her. He thought of her -pregnancy and felt sorry for her and for himself, and in a nervously -emotional and softened mood he went out of the hut in which he was -billeted with Nesvitski and began to walk up and down before it. - -The night was foggy and through the fog the moonlight gleamed -mysteriously. "Yes, tomorrow, tomorrow!" he thought. "Tomorrow -everything may be over for me! All these memories will be no more, -none of them will have any meaning for me. Tomorrow perhaps, even -certainly, I have a presentiment that for the first time I shall -have to show all I can do." And his fancy pictured the battle, its -loss, the concentration of fighting at one point, and the hesitation -of all the commanders. And then that happy moment, that Toulon for -which he had so long waited, presents itself to him at last. He firmly -and clearly expresses his opinion to Kutuzov, to Weyrother, and to the -Emperors. All are struck by the justness of his views, but no one -undertakes to carry them out, so he takes a regiment, a division- -stipulates that no one is to interfere with his arrangements- leads -his division to the decisive point, and gains the victory alone. -"But death and suffering?" suggested another voice. Prince Andrew, -however, did not answer that voice and went on dreaming of his -triumphs. The dispositions for the next battle are planned by him -alone. Nominally he is only an adjutant on Kutuzov's staff, but he -does everything alone. The next battle is won by him alone. Kutuzov is -removed and he is appointed... "Well and then?" asked the other voice. -"If before that you are not ten times wounded, killed, or betrayed, -well... what then?..." "Well then," Prince Andrew answered himself, "I -don't know what will happen and don't want to know, and can't, but -if I want this- want glory, want to be known to men, want to be -loved by them, it is not my fault that I want it and want nothing -but that and live only for that. Yes, for that alone! I shall never -tell anyone, but, oh God! what am I to do if I love nothing but fame -and men's esteem? Death, wounds, the loss of family- I fear nothing. -And precious and dear as many persons are to me- father, sister, wife- -those dearest to me- yet dreadful and unnatural as it seems, I would -give them all at once for a moment of glory, of triumph over men, of -love from men I don't know and never shall know, for the love of these -men here," he thought, as he listened to voices in Kutuzov's -courtyard. The voices were those of the orderlies who were packing up; -one voice, probably a coachman's, was teasing Kutuzov's old cook -whom Prince Andrew knew, and who was called Tit. He was saying, -"Tit, I say, Tit!" - -"Well?" returned the old man. - -"Go, Tit, thresh a bit!" said the wag. - -"Oh, go to the devil!" called out a voice, drowned by the laughter -of the orderlies and servants. - -"All the same, I love and value nothing but triumph over them all, I -value this mystic power and glory that is floating here above me in -this mist!" - -CHAPTER XIII - -That same night, Rostov was with a platoon on skirmishing duty in -front of Bagration's detachment. His hussars were placed along the -line in couples and he himself rode along the line trying to master -the sleepiness that kept coming over him. An enormous space, with -our army's campfires dimly glowing in the fog, could be seen behind -him; in front of him was misty darkness. Rostov could see nothing, -peer as he would into that foggy distance: now something gleamed gray, -now there was something black, now little lights seemed to glimmer -where the enemy ought to be, now he fancied it was only something in -his own eyes. His eyes kept closing, and in his fancy appeared- now -the Emperor, now Denisov, and now Moscow memories- and he again -hurriedly opened his eyes and saw close before him the head and ears -of the horse he was riding, and sometimes, when he came within six -paces of them, the black figures of hussars, but in the distance was -still the same misty darkness. "Why not?... It might easily happen," -thought Rostov, "that the Emperor will meet me and give me an order as -he would to any other officer; he'll say: 'Go and find out what's -there.' There are many stories of his getting to know an officer in -just such a chance way and attaching him to himself! What if he gave -me a place near him? Oh, how I would guard him, how I would tell him -the truth, how I would unmask his deceivers!" And in order to -realize vividly his love devotion to the sovereign, Rostov pictured to -himself an enemy or a deceitful German, whom he would not only kill -with pleasure but whom he would slap in the face before the Emperor. -Suddenly a distant shout aroused him. He started and opened his eyes. - -"Where am I? Oh yes, in the skirmishing line... pass and -watchword- shaft, Olmutz. What a nuisance that our squadron will be in -reserve tomorrow," he thought. "I'll ask leave to go to the front, -this may be my only chance of seeing the Emperor. It won't be long now -before I am off duty. I'll take another turn and when I get back -I'll go to the general and ask him." He readjusted himself in the -saddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars. -It seemed to him that it was getting lighter. To the left he saw a -sloping descent lit up, and facing it a black knoll that seemed as -steep as a wall. On this knoll there was a white patch that Rostov -could not at all make out: was it a glade in the wood lit up by the -moon, or some unmelted snow, or some white houses? He even thought -something moved on that white spot. "I expect it's snow... that -spot... a spot- une tache," he thought. "There now... it's not a -tache... Natasha... sister, black eyes... Na... tasha... (Won't she be -surprised when I tell her how I've seen the Emperor?) Natasha... -take my sabretache..."- "Keep to the right, your honor, there are -bushes here," came the voice of an hussar, past whom Rostov was riding -in the act of falling asleep. Rostov lifted his head that had sunk -almost to his horse's mane and pulled up beside the hussar. He was -succumbing to irresistible, youthful, childish drowsiness. "But what -was I thinking? I mustn't forget. How shall I speak to the Emperor? -No, that's not it- that's tomorrow. Oh yes! Natasha... sabretache... -saber them...Whom? The hussars... Ah, the hussars with mustaches. -Along the Tverskaya Street rode the hussar with mustaches... I thought -about him too, just opposite Guryev's house... Old Guryev.... Oh, -but Denisov's a fine fellow. But that's all nonsense. The chief -thing is that the Emperor is here. How he looked at me and wished to -say something, but dared not.... No, it was I who dared not. But -that's nonsense, the chief thing is not to forget the important -thing I was thinking of. Yes, Na-tasha, sabretache, oh, yes, yes! -That's right!" And his head once more sank to his horse's neck. All at -once it seemed to him that he was being fired at. "What? What? -What?... Cut them down! What?..." said Rostov, waking up. At the -moment he opened his eyes his eyes he heard in front of him, where the -enemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices. His horse and -the horse of the hussar near him pricked their ears at these shouts. -Over there, where the shouting came from, a fire flared up and went -out again, then another, and all along the French line on the hill -fires flared up and the shouting grew louder and louder. Rostov -could hear the sound of French words but could not distinguish them. -The din of many voices was too great; all he could hear was: "ahahah!" -and "rrrr!" - -"What's that? What do you make of it?" said Rostov to the hussar -beside him. "That must be the enemy's camp!" - -The hussar did not reply. - -"Why, don't you hear it?" Rostov asked again, after waiting for a -reply. - -"Who can tell, your honor?" replied the hussar reluctantly. - -"From the direction, it must be the enemy," repeated Rostov. - -"It may be he or it may be nothing," muttered the hussar. "It's -dark... Steady!" he cried to his fidgeting horse. - -Rostov's horse was also getting restive: it pawed the frozen ground, -pricking its ears at the noise and looking at the lights. The shouting -grew still louder and merged into a general roar that only an army -of several thousand men could produce. The lights spread farther and -farther, probably along the line of the French camp. Rostov no -longer wanted to sleep. The gay triumphant shouting of the enemy -army had a stimulating effect on him. "Vive l'Empereur! L'Empereur!" -he now heard distinctly. - -"They can't be far off, probably just beyond the stream," he said to -the hussar beside him. - -The hussar only sighed without replying and coughed angrily. The -sound of horse's hoofs approaching at a trot along the line of hussars -was heard, and out of the foggy darkness the figure of a sergeant of -hussars suddenly appeared, looming huge as an elephant. - -"Your honor, the generals!" said the sergeant, riding up to Rostov. - -Rostov, still looking round toward the fires and the shouts, rode -with the sergeant to meet some mounted men who were riding along the -line. One was on a white horse. Prince Bagration and Prince Dolgorukov -with their adjutants had come to witness the curious phenomenon of the -lights and shouts in the enemy's camp. Rostov rode up to Bagration, -reported to him, and then joined the adjutants listening to what the -generals were saying. - -"Believe me," said Prince Dolgorukov, addressing Bagration, "it is -nothing but a trick! He has retreated and ordered the rearguard to -kindle fires and make a noise to deceive us." - -"Hardly," said Bagration. "I saw them this evening on that knoll; if -they had retreated they would have withdrawn from that too.... -Officer!" said Bagration to Rostov, "are the enemy's skirmishers still -there?" - -"They were there this evening, but now I don't know, your -excellency. Shall I go with some of my hussars to see?" replied -Rostov. - -Bagration stopped and, before replying, tried to see Rostov's face -in the mist. - -"Well, go and see," he said, after a pause. - -"Yes, sir." - -Rostov spurred his horse, called to Sergeant Fedchenko and two other -hussars, told them to follow him, and trotted downhill in the -direction from which the shouting came. He felt both frightened and -pleased to be riding alone with three hussars into that mysterious and -dangerous misty distance where no one had been before him. Bagration -called to him from the hill not to go beyond the stream, but Rostov -pretended not to hear him and did not stop but rode on and on, -continually mistaking bushes for trees and gullies for men and -continually discovering his mistakes. Having descended the hill at a -trot, he no longer saw either our own or the enemy's fires, but -heard the shouting of the French more loudly and distinctly. In the -valley he saw before him something like a river, but when he reached -it he found it was a road. Having come out onto the road he reined -in his horse, hesitating whether to ride along it or cross it and ride -over the black field up the hillside. To keep to the road which -gleamed white in the mist would have been safer because it would be -easier to see people coming along it. "Follow me!" said he, crossed -the road, and began riding up the hill at a gallop toward the point -where the French pickets had been standing that evening. - -"Your honor, there he is!" cried one of the hussars behind him. -And before Rostov had time to make out what the black thing was that -had suddenly appeared in the fog, there was a flash, followed by a -report, and a bullet whizzing high up in the mist with a plaintive -sound passed out of hearing. Another musket missed fire but flashed in -the pan. Rostov turned his horse and galloped back. Four more -reports followed at intervals, and the bullets passed somewhere in the -fog singing in different tones. Rostov reined in his horse, whose -spirits had risen, like his own, at the firing, and went back at a -footpace. "Well, some more! Some more!" a merry voice was saying in -his soul. But no more shots came. - -Only when approaching Bagration did Rostov let his horse gallop -again, and with his hand at the salute rode up to the general. - -Dolgorukov was still insisting that the French had retreated and had -only lit fires to deceive us. - -"What does that prove?" he was saying as Rostov rode up. "They might -retreat and leave the pickets." - -"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," said -Bagration. "Wait till tomorrow morning, we'll find out everything -tomorrow." - -"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it was -in the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his hand at -the salute and unable to repress the smile of delight induced by his -ride and especially by the sound of the bullets. - -"Very good, very good," said Bagration. "Thank you, officer." - -"Your excellency," said Rostov, "may I ask a favor?" - -"What is it?" - -"Tomorrow our squadron is to be in reserve. May I ask to be attached -to the first squadron?" - -"What's your name?" - -"Count Rostov." - -"Oh, very well, you may stay in attendance on me." - -"Count Ilya Rostov's son?" asked Dolgorukov. - -But Rostov did not reply. - -"Then I may reckon on it, your excellency?" - -"I will give the order." - -"Tomorrow very likely I may be sent with some message to the -Emperor," thought Rostov. - -"Thank God!" - -The fires and shouting in the enemy's army were occasioned by the -fact that while Napoleon's proclamation was being read to the troops -the Emperor himself rode round his bivouacs. The soldiers, on seeing -him, lit wisps of straw and ran after him, shouting, "Vive -l'Empereur!" Napoleon's proclamation was as follows: - -Soldiers! The Russian army is advancing against you to avenge the -Austrian army of Ulm. They are the same battalions you broke at -Hollabrunn and have pursued ever since to this place. The position -we occupy is a strong one, and while they are marching to go round -me on the right they will expose a flank to me. Soldiers! I will -myself direct your battalions. I will keep out of fire if you with -your habitual valor carry disorder and confusion into the enemy's -ranks, but should victory be in doubt, even for a moment, you will see -your Emperor exposing himself to the first blows of the enemy, for -there must be no doubt of victory, especially on this day when what is -at stake is the honor of the French infantry, so necessary to the -honor of our nation. - -Do not break your ranks on the plea of removing the wounded! Let -every man be fully imbued with the thought that we must defeat these -hirelings of England, inspired by such hatred of our nation! This -victory will conclude our campaign and we can return to winter -quarters, where fresh French troops who are being raised in France -will join us, and the peace I shall conclude will be worthy of my -people, of you, and of myself. - -NAPOLEON - -CHAPTER XIV - -At five in the morning it was still quite dark. The troops of the -center, the reserves, and Bagration's right flank had not yet moved, -but on the left flank the columns of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, -which were to be the first to descend the heights to attack the French -right flank and drive it into the Bohemian mountains according to -plan, were already up and astir. The smoke of the campfires, into -which they were throwing everything superfluous, made the eyes -smart. It was cold and dark. The officers were hurriedly drinking -tea and breakfasting, the soldiers, munching biscuit and beating a -tattoo with their feet to warm themselves, gathering round the fires -throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, -tubs, and everything that they did not want or could not carry away -with them. Austrian column guides were moving in and out among the -Russian troops and served as heralds of the advance. As soon as an -Austrian officer showed himself near a commanding officer's -quarters, the regiment began to move: the soldiers ran from the fires, -thrust their pipes into their boots, their bags into the carts, got -their muskets ready, and formed rank. The officers buttoned up their -coats, buckled on their swords and pouches, and moved along the -ranks shouting. The train drivers and orderlies harnessed and packed -the wagons and tied on the loads. The adjutants and battalion and -regimental commanders mounted, crossed themselves, gave final -instructions, orders, and commissions to the baggage men who -remained behind, and the monotonous tramp of thousands of feet -resounded. The column moved forward without knowing where and -unable, from the masses around them, the smoke and the increasing fog, -to see either the place they were leaving or that to which they were -going. - -A soldier on the march is hemmed in and borne along by his -regiment as much as a sailor is by his ship. However far he has -walked, whatever strange, unknown, and dangerous places he reaches, -just as a sailor is always surrounded by the same decks, masts, and -rigging of his ship, so the soldier always has around him the same -comrades, the same ranks, the same sergeant major Ivan Mitrich, the -same company dog Jack, and the same commanders. The sailor rarely -cares to know the latitude in which his ship is sailing, but on the -day of battle- heaven knows how and whence- a stern note of which -all are conscious sounds in the moral atmosphere of an army, -announcing the approach of something decisive and solemn, and -awakening in the men an unusual curiosity. On the day of battle the -soldiers excitedly try to get beyond the interests of their -regiment, they listen intently, look about, and eagerly ask concerning -what is going on around them. - -The fog had grown so dense that though it was growing light they -could not see ten paces ahead. Bushes looked like gigantic trees and -level ground like cliffs and slopes. Anywhere, on any side, one -might encounter an enemy invisible ten paces off. But the columns -advanced for a long time, always in the same fog, descending and -ascending hills, avoiding gardens and enclosures, going over new and -unknown ground, and nowhere encountering the enemy. On the contrary, -the soldiers became aware that in front, behind, and on all sides, -other Russian columns were moving in the same direction. Every soldier -felt glad to know that to the unknown place where he was going, many -more of our men were going too. - -"There now, the Kurskies have also gone past," was being said in the -ranks. - -"It's wonderful what a lot of our troops have gathered, lads! Last -night I looked at the campfires and there was no end of them. A -regular Moscow!" - -Though none of the column commanders rode up to the ranks or -talked to the men (the commanders, as we saw at the council of war, -were out of humor and dissatisfied with the affair, and so did not -exert themselves to cheer the men but merely carried out the -orders), yet the troops marched gaily, as they always do when going -into action, especially to an attack. But when they had marched for -about an hour in the dense fog, the greater part of the men had to -halt and an unpleasant consciousness of some dislocation and blunder -spread through the ranks. How such a consciousness is communicated -is very difficult to define, but it certainly is communicated very -surely, and flows rapidly, imperceptibly, and irrepressibly, as -water does in a creek. Had the Russian army been alone without any -allies, it might perhaps have been a long time before this -consciousness of mismanagement became a general conviction, but as -it was, the disorder was readily and naturally attributed to the -stupid Germans, and everyone was convinced that a dangerous muddle had -been occasioned by the sausage eaters. - -"Why have we stopped? Is the way blocked? Or have we already come up -against the French?" - -"No, one can't hear them. They'd be firing if we had." - -"They were in a hurry enough to start us, and now here we stand in -the middle of a field without rhyme or reason. It's all those damned -Germans' muddling! What stupid devils!" - -"Yes, I'd send them on in front, but no fear, they're crowding up -behind. And now here we stand hungry." - -"I say, shall we soon be clear? They say the cavalry are blocking -the way," said an officer. - -"Ah, those damned Germans! They don't know their own country!" -said another. - -"What division are you?" shouted an adjutant, riding up. - -"The Eighteenth." - -"Then why are you here? You should have gone on long ago, now you -won't get there till evening." - -"What stupid orders! They don't themselves know what they are -doing!" said the officer and rode off. - -Then a general rode past shouting something angrily, not in Russian. - -"Tafa-lafa! But what he's jabbering no one can make out," said a -soldier, mimicking the general who had ridden away. "I'd shoot them, -the scoundrels!" - -"We were ordered to be at the place before nine, but we haven't -got halfway. Fine orders!" was being repeated on different sides. - -And the feeling of energy with which the troops had started began to -turn into vexation and anger at the stupid arrangements and at the -Germans. - -The cause of the confusion was that while the Austrian cavalry was -moving toward our left flank, the higher command found that our center -was too far separated from our right flank and the cavalry were all -ordered to turn back to the right. Several thousand cavalry crossed in -front of the infantry, who had to wait. - -At the front an altercation occurred between an Austrian guide and a -Russian general. The general shouted a demand that the cavalry -should be halted, the Austrian argued that not he, but the higher -command, was to blame. The troops meanwhile stood growing listless and -dispirited. After an hour's delay they at last moved on, descending -the hill. The fog that was dispersing on the hill lay still more -densely below, where they were descending. In front in the fog a -shot was heard and then another, at first irregularly at varying -intervals- trata... tat- and then more and more regularly and rapidly, -and the action at the Goldbach Stream began. - -Not expecting to come on the enemy down by the stream, and having -stumbled on him in the fog, hearing no encouraging word from their -commanders, and with a consciousness of being too late spreading -through the ranks, and above all being unable to see anything in front -or around them in the thick fog, the Russians exchanged shots with the -enemy lazily and advanced and again halted, receiving no timely orders -from the officers or adjutants who wandered about in the fog in -those unknown surroundings unable to find their own regiments. In this -way the action began for the first, second, and third columns, which -had gone down into the valley. The fourth column, with which Kutuzov -was, stood on the Pratzen Heights. - -Below, where the fight was beginning, there was still thick fog; -on the higher ground it was clearing, but nothing could be seen of -what was going on in front. Whether all the enemy forces were, as we -supposed, six miles away, or whether they were near by in that sea -of mist, no one knew till after eight o'clock. - -It was nine o'clock in the morning. The fog lay unbroken like a -sea down below, but higher up at the village of Schlappanitz where -Napoleon stood with his marshals around him, it was quite light. Above -him was a clear blue sky, and the sun's vast orb quivered like a -huge hollow, crimson float on the surface of that milky sea of mist. -The whole French army, and even Napoleon himself with his staff, -were not on the far side of the streams and hollows of Sokolnitz and -Schlappanitz beyond which we intended to take up our position and -begin the action, but were on this side, so close to our own forces -that Napoleon with the naked eye could distinguish a mounted man -from one on foot. Napoleon, in the blue cloak which he had worn on his -Italian campaign, sat on his small gray Arab horse a little in front -of his marshals. He gazed silently at the hills which seemed to rise -out of the sea of mist and on which the Russian troops were moving -in the distance, and he listened to the sounds of firing in the -valley. Not a single muscle of his face- which in those days was still -thin- moved. His gleaming eyes were fixed intently on one spot. His -predictions were being justified. Part of the Russian force had -already descended into the valley toward the ponds and lakes and -part were leaving these Pratzen Heights which he intended to attack -and regarded as the key to the position. He saw over the mist that -in a hollow between two hills near the village of Pratzen, the Russian -columns, their bayonets glittering, were moving continuously in one -direction toward the valley and disappearing one after another into -the mist. From information he had received the evening before, from -the sound of wheels and footsteps heard by the outposts during the -night, by the disorderly movement of the Russian columns, and from all -indications, he saw clearly that the allies believed him to be far -away in front of them, and that the columns moving near Pratzen -constituted the center of the Russian army, and that that center was -already sufficiently weakened to be successfully attacked. But still -he did not begin the engagement. - -Today was a great day for him- the anniversary of his coronation. -Before dawn he had slept for a few hours, and refreshed, vigorous, and -in good spirits, he mounted his horse and rode out into the field in -that happy mood in which everything seems possible and everything -succeeds. He sat motionless, looking at the heights visible above -the mist, and his cold face wore that special look of confident, -self-complacent happiness that one sees on the face of a boy happily -in love. The marshals stood behind him not venturing to distract his -attention. He looked now at the Pratzen Heights, now at the sun -floating up out of the mist. - -When the sun had entirely emerged from the fog, and fields and -mist were aglow with dazzling light- as if he had only awaited this to -begin the action- he drew the glove from his shapely white hand, -made a sign with it to the marshals, and ordered the action to -begin. The marshals, accompanied by adjutants, galloped off in -different directions, and a few minutes later the chief forces of -the French army moved rapidly toward those Pratzen Heights which -were being more and more denuded by Russian troops moving down the -valley to their left. - -CHAPTER XV - -At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratzen at the head of the fourth -column, Miloradovich's, the one that was to take the place of -Przebyszewski's and Langeron's columns which had already gone down -into the valley. He greeted the men of the foremost regiment and -gave them the order to march, thereby indicating that he intended to -lead that column himself. When he had reached the village of Pratzen -he halted. Prince Andrew was behind, among the immense number -forming the commander in chief's suite. He was in a state of -suppressed excitement and irritation, though controlledly calm as a -man is at the approach of a long-awaited moment. He was firmly -convinced that this was the day of his Toulon, or his bridge of -Arcola. How it would come about he did not know, but he felt sure it -would do so. The locality and the position of our troops were known to -him as far as they could be known to anyone in our army. His own -strategic plan, which obviously could not now be carried out, was -forgotten. Now, entering into Weyrother's plan, Prince Andrew -considered possible contingencies and formed new projects such as -might call for his rapidity of perception and decision. - -To the left down below in the mist, the musketry fire of unseen -forces could be heard. It was there Prince Andrew thought the fight -would concentrate. "There we shall encounter difficulties, and there," -thought he, "I shall be sent with a brigade or division, and there, -standard in hand, I shall go forward and break whatever is in front of -me." - -He could not look calmly at the standards of the passing battalions. -Seeing them he kept thinking, "That may be the very standard with -which I shall lead the army." - -In the morning all that was left of the night mist on the heights -was a hoar frost now turning to dew, but in the valleys it still lay -like a milk-white sea. Nothing was visible in the valley to the left -into which our troops had descended and from whence came the sounds of -firing. Above the heights was the dark clear sky, and to the right the -vast orb of the sun. In front, far off on the farther shore of that -sea of mist, some wooded hills were discernible, and it was there -the enemy probably was, for something could be descried. On the -right the Guards were entering the misty region with a sound of -hoofs and wheels and now and then a gleam of bayonets; to the left -beyond the village similar masses of cavalry came up and disappeared -in the sea of mist. In front and behind moved infantry. The -commander in chief was standing at the end of the village letting -the troops pass by him. That morning Kutuzov seemed worn and -irritable. The infantry passing before him came to a halt without -any command being given, apparently obstructed by something in front. - -"Do order them to form into battalion columns and go round the -village!" he said angrily to a general who had ridden up. "Don't you -understand, your excellency, my dear sir, that you must not defile -through narrow village streets when we are marching against the -enemy?" - -"I intended to re-form them beyond the village, your excellency," -answered the general. - -Kutuzov laughed bitterly. - -"You'll make a fine thing of it, deploying in sight of the enemy! -Very fine!" - -"The enemy is still far away, your excellency. According to the -dispositions..." - -"The dispositions!" exclaimed Kutuzov bitterly. "Who told you -that?... Kindly do as you are ordered." - -"Yes, sir." - -"My dear fellow," Nesvitski whispered to Prince Andrew, "the old man -is as surly as a dog." - -An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes in his -hat galloped up to Kutuzov and asked in the Emperor's name had the -fourth column advanced into action. - -Kutuzov turned round without answering and his eye happened to -fall upon Prince Andrew, who was beside him. Seeing him, Kutuzov's -malevolent and caustic expression softened, as if admitting that -what was being done was not his adjutant's fault, and still not -answering the Austrian adjutant, he addressed Bolkonski. - -"Go, my dear fellow, and see whether the third division has passed -the village. Tell it to stop and await my orders." - -Hardly had Prince Andrew started than he stopped him. - -"And ask whether sharpshooters have been posted," he added. "What -are they doing? What are they doing?" he murmured to himself, still -not replying to the Austrian. - -Prince Andrew galloped off to execute the order. - -Overtaking the battalions that continued to advance, he stopped -the third division and convinced himself that there really were no -sharpshooters in front of our columns. The colonel at the head of -the regiment was much surprised at the commander in chief's order to -throw out skirmishers. He had felt perfectly sure that there were -other troops in front of him and that the enemy must be at least six -miles away. There was really nothing to be seen in front except a -barren descent hidden by dense mist. Having given orders in the -commander in chief's name to rectify this omission, Prince Andrew -galloped back. Kutuzov still in the same place, his stout body resting -heavily in the saddle with the lassitude of age, sat yawning wearily -with closed eyes. The troops were no longer moving, but stood with the -butts of their muskets on the ground. - -"All right, all right!" he said to Prince Andrew, and turned to a -general who, watch in hand, was saying it was time they started as all -the left-flank columns had already descended. - -"Plenty of time, your excellency," muttered Kutuzov in the midst -of a yawn. "Plenty of time," he repeated. - -Just then at a distance behind Kutuzov was heard the sound of -regiments saluting, and this sound rapidly came nearer along the whole -extended line of the advancing Russian columns. Evidently the person -they were greeting was riding quickly. When the soldiers of the -regiment in front of which Kutuzov was standing began to shout, he -rode a little to one side and looked round with a frown. Along the -road from Pratzen galloped what looked like a squadron of horsemen -in various uniforms. Two of them rode side by side in front, at full -gallop. One in a black uniform with white plumes in his hat rode a -bobtailed chestnut horse, the other who was in a white uniform rode -a black one. These were the two Emperors followed by their suites. -Kutuzov, affecting the manners of an old soldier at the front, gave -the command "Attention!" and rode up to the Emperors with a salute. -His whole appearance and manner were suddenly transformed. He put on -the air of a subordinate who obeys without reasoning. With an -affectation of respect which evidently struck Alexander -unpleasantly, he rode up and saluted. - -This unpleasant impression merely flitted over the young and happy -face of the Emperor like a cloud of haze across a clear sky and -vanished. After his illness he looked rather thinner that day than -on the field of Olmutz where Bolkonski had seen him for the first time -abroad, but there was still the same bewitching combination of majesty -and mildness in his fine gray eyes, and on his delicate lips the -same capacity for varying expression and the same prevalent appearance -of goodhearted innocent youth. - -At the Olmutz review he had seemed more majestic; here he seemed -brighter and more energetic. He was slightly flushed after galloping -two miles, and reining in his horse he sighed restfully and looked -round at the faces of his suite, young and animated as his own. -Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Prince Volkonsky, Strogonov, and the others, -all richly dressed gay young men on splendid, well-groomed, fresh, -only slightly heated horses, exchanging remarks and smiling, had -stopped behind the Emperor. The Emperor Francis, a rosy, long faced -young man, sat very erect on his handsome black horse, looking about -him in a leisurely and preoccupied manner. He beckoned to one of his -white adjutants and asked some question- "Most likely he is asking -at what o'clock they started," thought Prince Andrew, watching his old -acquaintance with a smile he could not repress as he recalled his -reception at Brunn. In the Emperors' suite were the picked young -orderly officers of the Guard and line regiments, Russian and -Austrian. Among them were grooms leading the Tsar's beautiful relay -horses covered with embroidered cloths. - -As when a window is opened a whiff of fresh air from the fields -enters a stuffy room, so a whiff of youthfulness, energy, and -confidence of success reached Kutuzov's cheerless staff with the -galloping advent of all these brilliant young men. - -"Why aren't you beginning, Michael Ilarionovich?" said the Emperor -Alexander hurriedly to Kutuzov, glancing courteously at the same -time at the Emperor Francis. - -"I am waiting, Your Majesty," answered Kutuzov, bending forward -respectfully. - -The Emperor, frowning slightly, bent his ear forward as if he had -not quite heard. - -"Waiting, Your Majesty," repeated Kutuzov. (Prince Andrew noted that -Kutuzov's upper lip twitched unnaturally as he said the word -"waiting.") "Not all the columns have formed up yet, Your Majesty." - -The Tsar heard but obviously did not like the reply; he shrugged his -rather round shoulders and glanced at Novosiltsev who was near him, as -if complaining of Kutuzov. - -"You know, Michael Ilarionovich, we are not are not on the -Empress' Field where a parade does not begin till all the troops are -assembled," said the Tsar with another glance at the Emperor -Francis, as if inviting him if not to join in at least to listen to -what he was saying. But the Emperor Francis continued to look about -him and did not listen. - -"That is just why I do not begin, sire," said Kutuzov in a -resounding voice, apparently to preclude the possibility of not -being heard, and again something in his face twitched- "That is just -why I do not begin, sire, because we are not on parade and not on -the Empress' Field." said clearly and distinctly. - -In the Emperor's suite all exchanged rapid looks that expressed -dissatisfaction and reproach. "Old though he may be, he should not, he -certainly should not, speak like that," their glances seemed to say. - -The Tsar looked intently and observantly into Kutuzov's eye -waiting to hear whether he would say anything more. But Kutuzov, -with respectfully bowed head, seemed also to be waiting. The silence -lasted for about a minute. - -"However, if you command it, Your Majesty," said Kutuzov, lifting -his head and again assuming his former tone of a dull, unreasoning, -but submissive general. - -He touched his horse and having called Miloradovich, the commander -of the column, gave him the order to advance. - -The troops again began to move, and two battalions of the Novgorod -and one of the Apsheron regiment went forward past the Emperor. - -As this Apsheron battalion marched by, the red-faced Miloradovich, -without his greatcoat, with his Orders on his breast and an enormous -tuft of plumes in his cocked hat worn on one side with its corners -front and back, galloped strenuously forward, and with a dashing -salute reined in his horse before the Emperor. - -"God be with you, general!" said the Emperor. - -"Ma foi, sire, nous ferons ce qui sera dans notre possibilite, -sire,"~{ "Indeed, Sire, we shall do everything it is possible to do, Sire." }~ he answered gaily, raising nevertheless ironic smiles among -the gentlemen of the Tsar's suite by his poor French. - -Miloradovich wheeled his horse sharply and stationed himself a -little behind the Emperor. The Apsheron men, excited by the Tsar's -presence, passed in step before the Emperors and their suites at a -bold, brisk pace. - -"Lads!" shouted Miloradovich in a loud, self-confident, and cheery -voice, obviously so elated by the sound of firing, by the prospect -of battle, and by the sight of the gallant Apsherons, his comrades -in Suvorov's time, now passing so gallantly before the Emperors, -that he forgot the sovereigns' presence. "Lads, it's not the first -village you've had to take," cried he. - -"Glad to do our best!" shouted the soldiers. - -The Emperor's horse started at the sudden cry. This horse that had -carried the sovereign at reviews in Russia bore him also here on the -field of Austerlitz, enduring the heedless blows of his left foot -and pricking its ears at the sound of shots just as it had done on the -Empress' Field, not understanding the significance of the firing, -nor of the nearness of the Emperor Francis' black cob, nor of all that -was being said, thought, and felt that day by its rider. - -The Emperor turned with a smile to one of his followers and made a -remark to him, pointing to the gallant Apsherons. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Kutuzov accompanied by his adjutants rode at a walking pace behind -the carabineers. - -When he had gone less than half a mile in the rear of the column -he stopped at a solitary, deserted house that had probably once been -an inn, where two roads parted. Both of them led downhill and troops -were marching along both. - -The fog had begun to clear and enemy troops were already dimly -visible about a mile and a half off on the opposite heights. Down -below, on the left, the firing became more distinct. Kutuzov had -stopped and was speaking to an Austrian general. Prince Andrew, who -was a little behind looking at them, turned to an adjutant to ask -him for a field glass. - -"Look, look!" said this adjutant, looking not at the troops in the -distance, but down the hill before him. "It's the French!" - -The two generals and the adjutant took hold of the field glass, -trying to snatch it from one another. The expression on all their -faces suddenly changed to one of horror. The French were supposed to -be a mile and a half away, but had suddenly and unexpectedly -appeared just in front of us. - -"It's the enemy?... No!... Yes, see it is!... for certain.... But -how is that?" said different voices. - -With the naked eye Prince Andrew saw below them to the right, not -more than five hundred paces from where Kutuzov was standing, a -dense French column coming up to meet the Apsherons. - -"Here it is! The decisive moment has arrived. My turn has come," -thought Prince Andrew, and striking his horse he rode up to Kutuzov. - -"The Apsherons must be stopped, your excellency," cried he. But at -that very instant a cloud of smoke spread all round, firing was -heard quite close at hand, and a voice of naive terror barely two -steps from Prince Andrew shouted, "Brothers! All's lost!" And at -this as if at a command, everyone began to run. - -Confused and ever-increasing crowds were running back to where -five minutes before the troops had passed the Emperors. Not only would -it have been difficult to stop that crowd, it was even impossible -not to be carried back with it oneself. Bolkonski only tried not to -lose touch with it, and looked around bewildered and unable to grasp -what was happening in front of him. Nesvitski with an angry face, -red and unlike himself, was shouting to Kutuzov that if he did not -ride away at once he would certainly be taken prisoner. Kutuzov -remained in the same place and without answering drew out a -handkerchief. Blood was flowing from his cheek. Prince Andrew forced -his way to him. - -"You are wounded?" he asked, hardly able to master the trembling -of his lower jaw. - -"The wound is not here, it is there!" said Kutuzov, pressing the -handkerchief to his wounded cheek and pointing to the fleeing -soldiers. "Stop them!" he shouted, and at the same moment, probably -realizing that it was impossible to stop them, spurred his horse and -rode to the right. - -A fresh wave of the flying mob caught him and bore him back with it. - -The troops were running in such a dense mass that once surrounded by -them it was difficult to get out again. One was shouting, "Get on! Why -are you hindering us?" Another in the same place turned round and -fired in the air; a third was striking the horse Kutuzov himself rode. -Having by a great effort got away to the left from that flood of -men, Kutuzov, with his suite diminished by more than half, rode toward -a sound of artillery fire near by. Having forced his way out of the -crowd of fugitives, Prince Andrew, trying to keep near Kutuzov, saw on -the slope of the hill amid the smoke a Russian battery that was -still firing and Frenchmen running toward it. Higher up stood some -Russian infantry, neither moving forward to protect the battery nor -backward with the fleeing crowd. A mounted general separated himself -from the infantry and approached Kutuzov. Of Kutuzov's suite only four -remained. They were all pale and exchanged looks in silence. - -"Stop those wretches!" gasped Kutuzov to the regimental commander, -pointing to the flying soldiers; but at that instant, as if to -punish him for those words, bullets flew hissing across the regiment -and across Kutuzov's suite like a flock of little birds. - -The French had attacked the battery and, seeing Kutuzov, were firing -at him. After this volley the regimental commander clutched at his -leg; several soldiers fell, and a second lieutenant who was holding -the flag let it fall from his hands. It swayed and fell, but caught on -the muskets of the nearest soldiers. The soldiers started firing -without orders. - -"Oh! Oh! Oh!" groaned Kutuzov despairingly and looked around.... -"Bolkonski!" he whispered, his voice trembling from a consciousness of -the feebleness of age, "Bolkonski!" he whispered, pointing to the -disordered battalion and at the enemy, "what's that?" - -But before he had finished speaking, Prince Andrew, feeling tears of -shame and anger choking him, had already leapt from his horse and -run to the standard. - -"Forward, lads!" he shouted in a voice piercing as a child's. - -"Here it is!" thought he, seizing the staff of the standard and -hearing with pleasure the whistle of bullets evidently aimed at him. -Several soldiers fell. - -"Hurrah!" shouted Prince Andrew, and, scarcely able to hold up the -heavy standard, he ran forward with full confidence that the whole -battalion would follow him. - -And really he only ran a few steps alone. One soldier moved and then -another and soon the whole battalion ran forward shouting "Hurrah!" -and overtook him. A sergeant of the battalion ran up and took the flag -that was swaying from its weight in Prince Andrew's hands, but he -was immediately killed. Prince Andrew again seized the standard and, -dragging it by the staff, ran on with the battalion. In front he saw -our artillerymen, some of whom were fighting, while others, having -abandoned their guns, were running toward him. He also saw French -infantry soldiers who were seizing the artillery horses and turning -the guns round. Prince Andrew and the battalion were already within -twenty paces of the cannon. He heard the whistle of bullets above -him unceasingly and to right and left of him soldiers continually -groaned and dropped. But he did not look at them: he looked only at -what was going on in front of him- at the battery. He now saw -clearly the figure of a red-haired gunner with his shako knocked awry, -pulling one end of a mop while a French soldier tugged at the other. -He could distinctly see the distraught yet angry expression on the -faces of these two men, who evidently did not realize what they were -doing. - -"What are they about?" thought Prince Andrew as he gazed at them. -"Why doesn't the red-haired gunner run away as he is unarmed? Why -doesn't the Frenchman stab him? He will not get away before the -Frenchman remembers his bayonet and stabs him...." - -And really another French soldier, trailing his musket, ran up to -the struggling men, and the fate of the red-haired gunner, who had -triumphantly secured the mop and still did not realize what awaited -him, was about to be decided. But Prince Andrew did not see how it -ended. It seemed to him as though one of the soldiers near him hit him -on the head with the full swing of a bludgeon. It hurt a little, but -the worst of it was that the pain distracted him and prevented his -seeing what he had been looking at. - -"What's this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way," thought he, and -fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the struggle -of the Frenchmen with the gunners ended, whether the red-haired gunner -had been killed or not and whether the cannon had been captured or -saved. But he saw nothing. Above him there was now nothing but the -sky- the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty, with -gray clouds gliding slowly across it. "How quiet, peaceful, and -solemn; not at all as I ran," thought Prince Andrew- "not as we ran, -shouting and fighting, not at all as the gunner and the Frenchman with -frightened and angry faces struggled for the mop: how differently do -those clouds glide across that lofty infinite sky! How was it I did -not see that lofty sky before? And how happy I am to have found it -at last! Yes! All is vanity, all falsehood, except that infinite -sky. There is nothing, nothing, but that. But even it does not -exist, there is nothing but quiet and peace. Thank God!..." - -CHAPTER XVII - -On our right flank commanded by Bagration, at nine o'clock the -battle had not yet begun. Not wishing to agree to Dolgorukov's -demand to commence the action, and wishing to avert responsibility -from himself, Prince Bagration proposed to Dolgorukov to send to -inquire of the commander in chief. Bagration knew that as the distance -between the two flanks was more than six miles, even if the -messenger were not killed (which he very likely would be), and found -the commander in chief (which would be very difficult), he would not -be able to get back before evening. - -Bagration cast his large, expressionless, sleepy eyes round his -suite, and the boyish face Rostov, breathless with excitement and -hope, was the first to catch his eye. He sent him. - -"And if I should meet His Majesty before I meet the commander in -chief, your excellency?" said Rostov, with his hand to his cap. - -"You can give the message to His Majesty," said Dolgorukov, -hurriedly interrupting Bagration. - -On being relieved from picket duty Rostov had managed to get a few -hours' sleep before morning and felt cheerful, bold, and resolute, -with elasticity of movement, faith in his good fortune, and -generally in that state of mind which makes everything seem -possible, pleasant, and easy. - -All his wishes were being fulfilled that morning: there was to be -a general engagement in which he was taking part, more than that, he -was orderly to the bravest general, and still more, he was going -with a message to Kutuzov, perhaps even to the sovereign himself. -The morning was bright, he had a good horse under him, and his heart -was full of joy and happiness. On receiving the order he gave his -horse the rein and galloped along the line. At first he rode along the -line of Bagration's troops, which had not yet advanced into action but -were standing motionless; then he came to the region occupied by -Uvarov's cavalry and here he noticed a stir and signs of preparation -for battle; having passed Uvarov's cavalry he clearly heard the -sound of cannon and musketry ahead of him. The firing grew louder -and louder. - -In the fresh morning air were now heard, not two or three musket -shots at irregular intervals as before, followed by one or two -cannon shots, but a roll of volleys of musketry from the slopes of the -hill before Pratzen, interrupted by such frequent reports of cannon -that sometimes several of them were not separated from one another but -merged into a general roar. - -He could see puffs of musketry smoke that seemed to chase one -another down the hillsides, and clouds of cannon smoke rolling, -spreading, and mingling with one another. He could also, by the -gleam of bayonets visible through the smoke, make out moving masses of -infantry and narrow lines of artillery with green caissons. - -Rostov stopped his horse for a moment on a hillock to see what was -going on, but strain his attention as he would he could not understand -or make out anything of what was happening: there in the smoke men -of some sort were moving about, in front and behind moved lines of -troops; but why, whither, and who they were, it was impossible to make -out. These sights and sounds had no depressing or intimidating -effect on him; on the contrary, they stimulated his energy and -determination. - -"Go on! Go on! Give it them!" he mentally exclaimed at these sounds, -and again proceeded to gallop along the line, penetrating farther -and farther into the region where the army was already in action. - -"How it will be there I don't know, but all will be well!" thought -Rostov. - -After passing some Austrian troops he noticed that the next part -of the line (the Guards) was already in action. - -"So much the better! I shall see it close," he thought. - -He was riding almost along the front line. A handful of men came -galloping toward him. They were our Uhlans who with disordered ranks -were returning from the attack. Rostov got out of their way, -involuntarily noticed that one of them was bleeding, and galloped on. - -"That is no business of mine," he thought. He had not ridden many -hundred yards after that before he saw to his left, across the whole -width of the field, an enormous mass of cavalry in brilliant white -uniforms, mounted on black horses, trotting straight toward him and -across his path. Rostov put his horse to full gallop to get out of the -way of these men, and he would have got clear had they continued at -the same speed, but they kept increasing their pace, so that some of -the horses were already galloping. Rostov heard the thud of their -hoofs and the jingle of their weapons and saw their horses, their -figures, and even their faces, more and more distinctly. They were our -Horse Guards, advancing to attack the French cavalry that was coming -to meet them. - -The Horse Guards were galloping, but still holding in their -horses. Rostov could already see their faces and heard the command: -"Charge!" shouted by an officer who was urging his thoroughbred to -full speed. Rostov, fearing to be crushed or swept into the attack -on the French, galloped along the front as hard as his horse could go, -but still was not in time to avoid them. - -The last of the Horse Guards, a huge pockmarked fellow, frowned -angrily on seeing Rostov before him, with whom he would inevitably -collide. This Guardsman would certainly have bowled Rostov and his -Bedouin over (Rostov felt himself quite tiny and weak compared to -these gigantic men and horses) had it not occurred to Rostov to -flourish his whip before the eyes of the Guardsman's horse. The -heavy black horse, sixteen hands high, shied, throwing back its -ears; but the pockmarked Guardsman drove his huge spurs in -violently, and the horse, flourishing its tail and extending its neck, -galloped on yet faster. Hardly had the Horse Guards passed Rostov -before he heard them shout, "Hurrah!" and looking back saw that -their foremost ranks were mixed up with some foreign cavalry with -red epaulets, probably French. He could see nothing more, for -immediately afterwards cannon began firing from somewhere and smoke -enveloped everything. - -At that moment, as the Horse Guards, having passed him, -disappeared in the smoke, Rostov hesitated whether to gallop after -them or to go where he was sent. This was the brilliant charge of -the Horse Guards that amazed the French themselves. Rostov was -horrified to hear later that of all that mass of huge and handsome -men, of all those brilliant, rich youths, officers and cadets, who had -galloped past him on their thousand-ruble horses, only eighteen were -left after the charge. - -"Why should I envy them? My chance is not lost, and maybe I shall -see the Emperor immediately! " thought Rostov and galloped on. - -When he came level with the Foot Guards he noticed that about them -and around them cannon balls were flying, of which he was aware not so -much because he heard their sound as because he saw uneasiness on -the soldiers' faces and unnatural warlike solemnity on those of the -officers. - -Passing behind one of the lines of a regiment of Foot Guards he -heard a voice calling him by name. - -"Rostov!" - -"What?" he answered, not recognizing Boris. - -"I say, we've been in the front line! Our regiment attacked!" said -Boris with the happy smile seen on the faces of young men who have -been under fire for the first time. - -Rostov stopped. - -"Have you?" he said. "Well, how did it go?" - -"We drove them back!" said Boris with animation, growing -talkative. "Can you imagine it?" and he began describing how the -Guards, having taken up their position and seeing troops before -them, thought they were Austrians, and all at once discovered from the -cannon balls discharged by those troops that they were themselves in -the front line and had unexpectedly to go into action. Rostov -without hearing Boris to the end spurred his horse. - -"Where are you off to?" asked Boris. - -"With a message to His Majesty." - -"There he is!" said Boris, thinking Rostov had said "His -Highness," and pointing to the Grand Duke who with his high -shoulders and frowning brows stood a hundred paces away from them in -his helmet and Horse Guards' jacket, shouting something to a pale, -white uniformed Austrian officer. - -"But that's the Grand Duke, and I want the commander in chief or the -Emperor," said Rostov, and was about to spur his horse. - -"Count! Count!" shouted Berg who ran up from the other side as eager -as Boris. "Count! I am wounded in my right hand" (and he showed his -bleeding hand with a handkerchief tied round it) "and I remained at -the front. I held my sword in my left hand, Count. All our family- the -von Bergs- have been knights!" - -He said something more, but Rostov did not wait to hear it and -rode away. - -Having passed the Guards and traversed an empty space, Rostov, to -avoid again getting in front of the first line as he had done when the -Horse Guards charged, followed the line of reserves, going far round -the place where the hottest musket fire and cannonade were heard. -Suddenly he heard musket fire quite close in front of him and behind -our troops, where he could never have expected the enemy to be. - -"What can it be?" he thought. "The enemy in the rear of our army? -Impossible!" And suddenly he was seized by a panic of fear for himself -and for the issue of the whole battle. "But be that what it may," he -reflected, "there is no riding round it now. I must look for the -commander in chief here, and if all is lost it is for me to perish -with the rest." - -The foreboding of evil that had suddenly come over Rostov was more -and more confirmed the farther he rode into the region behind the -village of Pratzen, which was full of troops of all kinds. - -"What does it mean? What is it? Whom are they firing at? Who is -firing?" Rostov kept asking as he came up to Russian and Austrian -soldiers running in confused crowds across his path. - -"The devil knows! They've killed everybody! It's all up now!" he was -told in Russian, German, and Czech by the crowd of fugitives who -understood what was happening as little as he did. - -"Kill the Germans!" shouted one. - -"May the devil take them- the traitors!" - -"Zum Henker diese Russen!"~{ "Hang these Russians!" }~ muttered a German. - -Several wounded men passed along the road, and words of abuse, -screams, and groans mingled in a general hubbub, then the firing -died down. Rostov learned later that Russian and Austrian soldiers had -been firing at one another. - -"My God! What does it all mean?" thought he. "And here, where at any -moment the Emperor may see them.... But no, these must be only a -handful of scoundrels. It will soon be over, it can't be that, it -can't be! Only to get past them quicker, quicker!" - -The idea of defeat and flight could not enter Rostov's head. -Though he saw French cannon and French troops on the Pratzen Heights -just where he had been ordered to look for the commander in chief, -he could not, did not wish to, believe that. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Rostov had been ordered to look for Kutuzov and the Emperor near the -village of Pratzen. But neither they nor a single commanding officer -were there, only disorganized crowds of troops of various kinds. He -urged on his already weary horse to get quickly past these crowds, but -the farther he went the more disorganized they were. The highroad on -which he had come out was thronged with caleches, carriages of all -sorts, and Russian and Austrian soldiers of all arms, some wounded and -some not. This whole mass droned and jostled in confusion under the -dismal influence of cannon balls flying from the French batteries -stationed on the Pratzen Heights. - -"Where is the Emperor? Where is Kutuzov?" Rostov kept asking -everyone he could stop, but got no answer from anyone. - -At last seizing a soldier by his collar he forced him to answer. - -"Eh, brother! They've all bolted long ago!" said the soldier, -laughing for some reason and shaking himself free. - -Having left that soldier who was evidently drunk, Rostov stopped the -horse of a batman or groom of some important personage and began to -question him. The man announced that the Tsar had been driven in a -carriage at full speed about an hour before along that very road and -that he was dangerously wounded. - -"It can't be!" said Rostov. "It must have been someone else." - -"I saw him myself." replied the man with a self-confident smile of -derision. "I ought to know the Emperor by now, after the times I've -seen him in Petersburg. I saw him just as I see you.... There he sat -in the carriage as pale as anything. How they made the four black -horses fly! Gracious me, they did rattle past! It's time I knew the -Imperial horses and Ilya Ivanych. I don't think Ilya drives anyone -except the Tsar!" - -Rostov let go of the horse and was about to ride on, when a -wounded officer passing by addressed him: - -"Who is it you want?" he asked. "The commander in chief? He was -killed by a cannon ball- struck in the breast before our regiment." - -"Not killed- wounded!" another officer corrected him. - -"Who? Kutuzov?" asked Rostov. - -"Not Kutuzov, but what's his name- well, never mind... there are not -many left alive. Go that way, to that village, all the commanders -are there," said the officer, pointing to the village of Hosjeradek, -and he walked on. - -Rostov rode on at a footpace not knowing why or to whom he was now -going. The Emperor was wounded, the battle lost. It was impossible -to doubt it now. Rostov rode in the direction pointed out to him, in -which he saw turrets and a church. What need to hurry? What was he now -to say to the Tsar or to Kutuzov, even if they were alive and -unwounded? - -"Take this road, your honor, that way you will be killed at once!" a -soldier shouted to him. "They'd kill you there!" - -"Oh, what are you talking about?" said another. "Where is he to -go? That way is nearer." - -Rostov considered, and then went in the direction where they said he -would be killed. - -"It's all the same now. If the Emperor is wounded, am I to try to -save myself?" he thought. He rode on to the region where the -greatest number of men had perished in fleeing from Pratzen. The -French had not yet occupied that region, and the Russians- the -uninjured and slightly wounded- had left it long ago. All about the -field, like heaps of manure on well-kept plowland, lay from ten to -fifteen dead and wounded to each couple of acres. The wounded crept -together in twos and threes and one could hear their distressing -screams and groans, sometimes feigned- or so it seemed to Rostov. He -put his horse to a trot to avoid seeing all these suffering men, and -he felt afraid- afraid not for his life, but for the courage he needed -and which he knew would not stand the sight of these unfortunates. - -The French, who had ceased firing at this field strewn with dead and -wounded where there was no one left to fire at, on seeing an -adjutant riding over it trained a gun on him and fired several -shots. The sensation of those terrible whistling sounds and of the -corpses around him merged in Rostov's mind into a single feeling of -terror and pity for himself. He remembered his mother's last letter. -"What would she feel," thought he, "if she saw me here now on this -field with the cannon aimed at me?" - -In the village of Hosjeradek there were Russian troops retiring from -the field of battle, who though still in some confusion were less -disordered. The French cannon did not reach there and the musketry -fire sounded far away. Here everyone clearly saw and said that the -battle was lost. No one whom Rostov asked could tell him where the -Emperor or Kutuzov was. Some said the report that the Emperor was -wounded was correct, others that it was not, and explained the false -rumor that had spread by the fact that the Emperor's carriage had -really galloped from the field of battle with the pale and terrified -Ober-Hofmarschal Count Tolstoy, who had ridden out to the -battlefield with others in the Emperor's suite. One officer told -Rostov that he had seen someone from headquarters behind the village -to the left, and thither Rostov rode, not hoping to find anyone but -merely to ease his conscience. When he had ridden about two miles -and had passed the last of the Russian troops, he saw, near a -kitchen garden with a ditch round it, two men on horseback facing -the ditch. One with a white plume in his hat seemed familiar to -Rostov; the other on a beautiful chestnut horse (which Rostov -fancied he had seen before) rode up to the ditch, struck his horse -with his spurs, and giving it the rein leaped lightly over. Only a -little earth crumbled from the bank under the horse's hind hoofs. -Turning the horse sharply, he again jumped the ditch, and -deferentially addressed the horseman with the white plumes, -evidently suggesting that he should do the same. The rider, whose -figure seemed familiar to Rostov and involuntarily riveted his -attention, made a gesture of refusal with his head and hand and by -that gesture Rostov instantly recognized his lamented and adored -monarch. - -"But it can't be he, alone in the midst of this empty field!" -thought Rostov. At that moment Alexander turned his head and Rostov -saw the beloved features that were so deeply engraved on his memory. -The Emperor was pale, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow, but the -charm, the mildness of his features, was all the greater. Rostov was -happy in the assurance that the rumors about the Emperor being wounded -were false. He was happy to be seeing him. He knew that he might and -even ought to go straight to him and give the message Dolgorukov had -ordered him to deliver. - -But as a youth in love trembles, is unnerved, and dares not utter -the thoughts he has dreamed of for nights, but looks around for help -or a chance of delay and flight when the longed-for moment comes and -he is alone with her, so Rostov, now that he had attained what he -had longed for more than anything else in the world, did not know -how to approach the Emperor, and a thousand reasons occurred to him -why it would be inconvenient, unseemly, and impossible to do so. - -"What! It is as if I were glad of a chance to take advantage of -his being alone and despondent! A strange face may seem unpleasant -or painful to him at this moment of sorrow; besides, what can I say to -him now, when my heart fails me and my mouth feels dry at the mere -sight of him?" Not one of the innumerable speeches addressed to the -Emperor that he had composed in his imagination could he now recall. -Those speeches were intended for quite other conditions, they were for -the most part to be spoken at a moment of victory and triumph, -generally when he was dying of wounds and the sovereign had thanked -him for heroic deeds, and while dying he expressed the love his -actions had proved. - -"Besides how can I ask the Emperor for his instructions for the -right flank now that it is nearly four o'clock and the battle is lost? -No, certainly I must not approach him, I must not intrude on his -reflections. Better die a thousand times than risk receiving an unkind -look or bad opinion from him," Rostov decided; and sorrowfully and -with a heart full despair he rode away, continually looking back at -the Tsar, who still remained in the same attitude of indecision. - -While Rostov was thus arguing with himself and riding sadly away, -Captain von Toll chanced to ride to the same spot, and seeing the -Emperor at once rode up to him, offered his services, and assisted him -to cross the ditch on foot. The Emperor, wishing to rest and feeling -unwell, sat down under an apple tree and von Toll remained beside him. -Rostov from a distance saw with envy and remorse how von Toll spoke -long and warmly to the Emperor and how the Emperor, evidently weeping, -covered his eyes with his hand and pressed von Toll's hand. - -"And I might have been in his place!" thought Rostov, and hardly -restraining his tears of pity for the Emperor, he rode on in utter -despair, not knowing where to or why he was now riding. - -His despair was all the greater from feeling that his own weakness -was the cause his grief. - -He might... not only might but should, have gone up to the -sovereign. It was a unique chance to show his devotion to the -Emperor and he had not made use of it.... "What have I done?" -thought he. And he turned round and galloped back to the place where -he had seen the Emperor, but there was no one beyond the ditch now. -Only some carts and carriages were passing by. From one of the drivers -he learned that Kutuzov's staff were not far off, in the village the -vehicles were going to. Rostov followed them. In front of him walked -Kutuzov's groom leading horses in horsecloths. Then came a cart, and -behind that walked an old, bandy-legged domestic serf in a peaked -cap and sheepskin coat. - -"Tit! I say, Tit!" said the groom. - -"What?" answered the old man absent-mindedly. - -"Go, Tit! Thresh a bit!" - -"Oh, you fool!" said the old man, spitting angrily. Some time passed -in silence, and then the same joke was repeated. - -Before five in the evening the battle had been lost at all points. -More than a hundred cannon were already in the hands of the French. - -Przebyszewski and his corps had laid down their arms. Other -columns after losing half their men were retreating in disorderly -confused masses. - -The remains of Langeron's and Dokhturov's mingled forces were -crowding around the dams and banks of the ponds near the village of -Augesd. - -After five o'clock it was only at the Augesd Dam that a hot -cannonade (delivered by the French alone) was still to be heard from -numerous batteries ranged on the slopes of the Pratzen Heights, -directed at our retreating forces. - -In the rearguard, Dokhturov and others rallying some battalions kept -up a musketry fire at the French cavalry that was pursuing our troops. -It was growing dusk. On the narrow Augesd Dam where for so many -years the old miller had been accustomed to sit in his tasseled cap -peacefully angling, while his grandson, with shirt sleeves rolled -up, handled the floundering silvery fish in the watering can, on -that dam over which for so many years Moravians in shaggy caps and -blue jackets had peacefully driven their two-horse carts loaded with -wheat and had returned dusty with flour whitening their carts- on that -narrow dam amid the wagons and the cannon, under the horses' hoofs and -between the wagon wheels, men disfigured by fear of death now -crowded together, crushing one another, dying, stepping over the dying -and killing one another, only to move on a few steps and be killed -themselves in the same way. - -Every ten seconds a cannon ball flew compressing the air around, -or a shell burst in the midst of that dense throng, killing some and -splashing with blood those near them. - -Dolokhov- now an officer- wounded in the arm, and on foot, with -the regimental commander on horseback and some ten men of his company, -represented all that was left of that whole regiment. Impelled by -the crowd, they had got wedged in at the approach to the dam and, -jammed in on all sides, had stopped because a horse in front had -fallen under a cannon and the crowd were dragging it out. A cannon -ball killed someone behind them, another fell in front and splashed -Dolokhov with blood. The crowd, pushing forward desperately, -squeezed together, moved a few steps, and again stopped. - -"Move on a hundred yards and we are certainly saved, remain here -another two minutes and it is certain death," thought each one. - -Dolokhov who was in the midst of the crowd forced his way to the -edge of the dam, throwing two soldiers off their feet, and ran onto -the slippery ice that covered the millpool. - -"Turn this way!" he shouted, jumping over the ice which creaked -under him; "turn this way!" he shouted to those with the gun. "It -bears!..." - -The ice bore him but it swayed and creaked, and it was plain that it -would give way not only under a cannon or a crowd, but very soon -even under his weight alone. The men looked at him and pressed to -the bank, hesitating to step onto the ice. The general on horseback at -the entrance to the dam raised his hand and opened his mouth to -address Dolokhov. Suddenly a cannon ball hissed so low above the crowd -that everyone ducked. It flopped into something moist, and the general -fell from his horse in a pool of blood. Nobody gave him a look or -thought of raising him. - -"Get onto the ice, over the ice! Go on! Turn! Don't you hear? Go -on!" innumerable voices suddenly shouted after the ball had struck the -general, the men themselves not knowing what, or why, they were -shouting. - -One of the hindmost guns that was going onto the dam turned off onto -the ice. Crowds of soldiers from the dam began running onto the frozen -pond. The ice gave way under one of the foremost soldiers, and one leg -slipped into the water. He tried to right himself but fell in up to -his waist. The nearest soldiers shrank back, the gun driver stopped -his horse, but from behind still came the shouts: "Onto the ice, why -do you stop? Go on! Go on!" And cries of horror were heard in the -crowd. The soldiers near the gun waved their arms and beat the -horses to make them turn and move on. The horses moved off the bank. -The ice, that had held under those on foot, collapsed in a great mass, -and some forty men who were on it dashed, some forward and some -back, drowning one another. - -Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop -onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd -that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank. - -CHAPTER XIX - -On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in -his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and -unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan. - -Toward evening he ceased moaning and became quite still. He did -not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he again felt -that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating pain in his -head. - -"Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but saw -today?" was his first thought. "And I did not know this suffering -either," he thought. "Yes, I did not know anything, anything at all -till now. But where am I?" - -He listened and heard the sound of approaching horses, and voices -speaking French. He opened his eyes. Above him again was the same -lofty sky with clouds that had risen and were floating still higher, -and between them gleamed blue infinity. He did not turn his head and -did not see those who, judging by the sound of hoofs and voices, had -ridden up and stopped near him. - -It was Napoleon accompanied by two aides-de-camp. Bonaparte riding -over the battlefield had given final orders to strengthen the -batteries firing at the Augesd Dam and was looking at the killed and -wounded left on the field. - -"Fine men!" remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian -grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened -nape, lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide. - -"The ammunition for the guns in position is exhausted, Your -Majesty," said an adjutant who had come from the batteries that were -firing at Augesd. - -"Have some brought from the reserve," said Napoleon, and having gone -on a few steps he stopped before Prince Andrew, who lay on his back -with the flagstaff that had been dropped beside him. (The flag had -already been taken by the French as a trophy.) - -"That's a fine death!" said Napoleon as he gazed at Bolkonski. - -Prince Andrew understood that this was said of him and that it was -Napoleon who said it. He heard the speaker addressed as Sire. But he -heard the words as he might have heard the buzzing of a fly. Not -only did they not interest him, but he took no notice of them and at -once forgot them. His head was burning, he felt himself bleeding to -death, and he saw above him the remote, lofty, and everlasting sky. He -knew it was Napoleon- his hero- but at that moment Napoleon seemed -to him such a small, insignificant creature compared with what was -passing now between himself and that lofty infinite sky with the -clouds flying over it. At that moment it meant nothing to him who -might be standing over him, or what was said of him; he was only -glad that people were standing near him and only wished that they -would help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so -beautiful now that he had today learned to understand it so -differently. He collected all his strength, to stir and utter a sound. -He feebly moved his leg and uttered a weak, sickly groan which aroused -his own pity. - -"Ah! He is alive," said Napoleon. "Lift this young man up and -carry him to the dressing station." - -Having said this, Napoleon rode on to meet Marshal Lannes, who, -hat in hand, rode up smiling to the Emperor to congratulate him on the -victory. - -Prince Andrew remembered nothing more: he lost consciousness from -the terrible pain of being lifted onto the stretcher, the jolting -while being moved, and the probing of his wound at the dressing -station. He did not regain consciousness till late in the day, when -with other wounded and captured Russian officers he was carried to the -hospital. During this transfer he felt a little stronger and was -able to look about him and even speak. - -The first words he heard on coming to his senses were those of a -French convoy officer, who said rapidly: "We must halt here: the -Emperor will pass here immediately; it will please him to see these -gentlemen prisoners." - -"There are so many prisoners today, nearly the whole Russian army, -that he is probably tired of them," said another officer. - -"All the same! They say this one is the commander of all the Emperor -Alexander's Guards," said the first one, indicating a Russian -officer in the white uniform of the Horse Guards. - -Bolkonski recognized Prince Repnin whom he had met in Petersburg -society. Beside him stood a lad of nineteen, also a wounded officer of -the Horse Guards. - -Bonaparte, having come up at a gallop, stopped his horse. - -"Which is the senior?" he asked, on seeing the prisoners. - -They named the colonel, Prince Repnin. - -"You are the commander of the Emperor Alexander's regiment of -Horse Guards?" asked Napoleon. - -"I commanded a squadron," replied Repnin. - -"Your regiment fulfilled its duty honorably," said Napoleon. - -"The praise of a great commander is a soldier's highest reward," -said Repnin. - -"I bestow it with pleasure," said Napoleon. "And who is that young -man beside you?" - -Prince Repnin named Lieutenant Sukhtelen. - -After looking at him Napoleon smiled. - -"He's very young to come to meddle with us." - -"Youth is no hindrance to courage," muttered Sukhtelen in a -failing voice. - -"A splendid reply!" said Napoleon. "Young man, you will go far!" - -Prince Andrew, who had also been brought forward before the -Emperor's eyes to complete the show of prisoners, could not fail to -attract his attention. Napoleon apparently remembered seeing him on -the battlefield and, addressing him, again used the epithet "young -man" that was connected in his memory with Prince Andrew. - -"Well, and you, young man," said he. "How do you feel, mon brave?" - -Though five minutes before, Prince Andrew had been able to say a few -words to the soldiers who were carrying him, now with his eyes fixed -straight on Napoleon, he was silent.... So insignificant at that -moment seemed to him all the interests that engrossed Napoleon, so -mean did his hero himself with his paltry vanity and joy in victory -appear, compared to the lofty, equitable, and kindly sky which he -had seen and understood, that he could not answer him. - -Everything seemed so futile and insignificant in comparison with the -stern and solemn train of thought that weakness from loss of blood, -suffering, and the nearness of death aroused in him. Looking into -Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of -greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and -the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one -alive could understand or explain. - -The Emperor without waiting for an answer turned away and said to -one of the officers as he went: "Have these gentlemen attended to -and taken to my bivouac; let my doctor, Larrey, examine their -wounds. Au revoir, Prince Repnin!" and he spurred his horse and -galloped away. - -His face shone with self-satisfaction and pleasure. - -The soldiers who had carried Prince Andrew had noticed and taken the -little gold icon Princess Mary had hung round her brother's neck, -but seeing the favor the Emperor showed the prisoners, they now -hastened to return the holy image. - -Prince Andrew did not see how and by whom it was replaced, but the -little icon with its thin gold chain suddenly appeared upon his -chest outside his uniform. - -"It would be good," thought Prince Andrew, glancing at the icon -his sister had hung round his neck with such emotion and reverence, -"it would be good if everything were as clear and simple as it seems -to Mary. How good it would be to know where to seek for help in this -life, and what to expect after it beyond the grave! How happy and calm -I should be if I could now say: 'Lord, have mercy on me!'... But to -whom should I say that? Either to a Power indefinable, -incomprehensible, which I not only cannot address but which I cannot -even express in words- the Great All or Nothing-" said he to -himself, "or to that God who has been sewn into this amulet by Mary! -There is nothing certain, nothing at all except the unimportance of -everything I understand, and the greatness of something -incomprehensible but all-important. - -The stretchers moved on. At every jolt he again felt unendurable -pain; his feverishness increased and he grew delirious. Visions of his -father, wife, sister, and future son, and the tenderness he had felt -the night before the battle, the figure of the insignificant little -Napoleon, and above all this the lofty sky, formed the chief -subjects of his delirious fancies. - -The quiet home life and peaceful happiness of Bald Hills presented -itself to him. He was already enjoying that happiness when that little -Napoleon had suddenly appeared with his unsympathizing look of -shortsighted delight at the misery of others, and doubts and -torments had followed, and only the heavens promised peace. Toward -morning all these dreams melted and merged into the chaos and darkness -of unconciousness and oblivion which in the opinion of Napoleon's -doctor, Larrey, was much more likely to end in death than in -convalescence. - -"He is a nervous, bilious subject," said Larrey, "and will not -recover." - -And Prince Andrew, with others fatally wounded, was left to the care -of the inhabitants of the district. - -BOOK FOUR: 1806 - -CHAPTER I - -Early in the year 1806 Nicholas Rostov returned home on leave. -Denisov was going home to Voronezh and Rostov persuaded him to -travel with him as far as Moscow and to stay with him there. Meeting a -comrade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denisov had -drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts -across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to -Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostov, who grew -more and more impatient the nearer they got to Moscow. - -"How much longer? How much longer? Oh, these insufferable streets, -shops, bakers' signboards, street lamps, and sleighs!" thought Rostov, -when their leave permits had been passed at the town gate and they had -entered Moscow. - -"Denisov! We're here! He's asleep," he added, leaning forward with -his whole body as if in that position he hoped to hasten the speed -of the sleigh. - -Denisov gave no answer. - -"There's the corner at the crossroads, where the cabman, Zakhar, has -his stand, and there's Zakhar himself and still the same horse! And -here's the little shop where we used to buy gingerbread! Can't you -hurry up? Now then!" - -"Which house is it?" asked the driver. - -"Why, that one, right at the end, the big one. Don't you see? That's -our house," said Rostov. "Of course, it's our house! Denisov, Denisov! -We're almost there!" - -Denisov raised his head, coughed, and made no answer. - -"Dmitri," said Rostov to his valet on the box, "those lights are -in our house, aren't they?" - -"Yes, sir, and there's a light in your father's study." - -"Then they've not gone to bed yet? What do you think? Mind now, -don't forget to put out my new coat," added Rostov, fingering his -new mustache. "Now then, get on," he shouted to the driver. "Do wake -up, Vaska!" he went on, turning to Denisov, whose head was again -nodding. "Come, get on! You shall have three rubles for vodka- get -on!" Rostov shouted, when the sleigh was only three houses from his -door. It seemed to him the horses were not moving at all. At last -the sleigh bore to the right, drew up at an entrance, and Rostov saw -overhead the old familiar cornice with a bit of plaster broken off, -the porch, and the post by the side of the pavement. He sprang out -before the sleigh stopped, and ran into the hall. The house stood cold -and silent, as if quite regardless of who had come to it. There was no -one in the hall. "Oh God! Is everyone all right?" he thought, stopping -for a moment with a sinking heart, and then immediately starting to -run along the hall and up the warped steps of the familiar -staircase. The well-known old door handle, which always angered the -countess when it was not properly cleaned, turned as loosely as -ever. A solitary tallow candle burned in the anteroom. - -Old Michael was asleep on the chest. Prokofy, the footman, who was -so strong that he could lift the back of the carriage from behind, sat -plaiting slippers out of cloth selvedges. He looked up at the -opening door and his expression of sleepy indifference suddenly -changed to one of delighted amazement. - -"Gracious heavens! The young count!" he cried, recognizing his young -master. "Can it be? My treasure!" and Prokofy, trembling with -excitement, rushed toward the drawing-room door, probably in order -to announce him, but, changing his mind, came back and stooped to kiss -the young man's shoulder. - -"All well?" asked Rostov, drawing away his arm. - -"Yes, God be thanked! Yes! They've just finished supper. Let me have -a look at you, your excellency." - -"Is everything quite all right?" - -"The Lord be thanked, yes!" - -Rostov, who had completely forgotten Denisov, not wishing anyone -to forestall him, threw off his fur coat and ran on tiptoe through the -large dark ballroom. All was the same: there were the same old card -tables and the same chandelier with a cover over it; but someone had -already seen the young master, and, before he had reached the -drawing room, something flew out from a side door like a tornado and -began hugging and kissing him. Another and yet another creature of the -same kind sprang from a second door and a third; more hugging, more -kissing, more outcries, and tears of joy. He could not distinguish -which was Papa, which Natasha, and which Petya. Everyone shouted, -talked, and kissed him at the same time. Only his mother was not -there, he noticed that. - -"And I did not know... Nicholas... My darling!..." - -"Here he is... our own... Kolya,~{ Nicholas. }~ dear fellow... How he has -changed!... Where are the candles?... Tea!..." - -"And me, kiss me!" - -"Dearest... and me!" - -Sonya, Natasha, Petya, Anna Mikhaylovna, Vera, and the old count -were all hugging him, and the serfs, men and maids, flocked into the -room, exclaiming and oh-ing and ah-ing. - -Petya, clinging to his legs, kept shouting, "And me too!" - -Natasha, after she had pulled him down toward her and covered his -face with kisses, holding him tight by the skirt of his coat, sprang -away and pranced up and down in one place like a goat and shrieked -piercingly. - -All around were loving eyes glistening with tears of joy, and all -around were lips seeking a kiss. - -Sonya too, all rosy red, clung to his arm and, radiant with bliss, -looked eagerly toward his eyes, waiting for the look for which she -longed. Sonya now was sixteen and she was very pretty, especially at -this moment of happy, rapturous excitement. She gazed at him, not -taking her eyes off him, and smiling and holding her breath. He gave -her a grateful look, but was still expectant and looking for -someone. The old countess had not yet come. But now steps were heard -at the door, steps so rapid that they could hardly be his mother's. - -Yet it was she, dressed in a new gown which he did not know, made -since he had left. All the others let him go, and he ran to her. -When they met, she fell on his breast, sobbing. She could not lift her -face, but only pressed it to the cold braiding of his hussar's jacket. -Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there -and wiped his eyes at the sight. - -"Vasili Denisov, your son's friend," he said, introducing himself to -the count, who was looking inquiringly at him. - -"You are most welcome! I know, I know," said the count, kissing -and embracing Denisov. "Nicholas wrote us... Natasha, Vera, look! Here -is Denisov!" - -The same happy, rapturous faces turned to the shaggy figure of -Denisov. - -"Darling Denisov!" screamed Natasha, beside herself with rapture, -springing to him, putting her arms round him, and kissing him. This -escapade made everybody feel confused. Denisov blushed too, but smiled -and, taking Natasha's hand, kissed it. - -Denisov was shown to the room prepared for him, and the Rostovs -all gathered round Nicholas in the sitting room. - -The old countess, not letting go of his hand and kissing it every -moment, sat beside him: the rest, crowding round him, watched every -movement, word, or look of his, never taking their blissfully -adoring eyes off him. His brother and sisters struggled for the places -nearest to him and disputed with one another who should bring him -his tea, handkerchief, and pipe. - -Rostov was very happy in the love they showed him; but the first -moment of meeting had been so beatific that his present joy seemed -insufficient, and he kept expecting something more, more and yet more. - -Next morning, after the fatigues of their journey, the travelers -slept till ten o'clock. - -In the room next their bedroom there was a confusion of sabers, -satchels, sabretaches, open portmanteaus, and dirty boots. Two freshly -cleaned pairs with spurs had just been placed by the wall. The -servants were bringing in jugs and basins, hot water for shaving, -and their well-brushed clothes. There was a masculine odor and a smell -of tobacco. - -"Hallo, Gwiska- my pipe!" came Vasili Denisov's husky voice. -"Wostov, get up!" - -Rostov, rubbing his eyes that seemed glued together, raised his -disheveled head from the hot pillow. - -"Why, is it late?" - -"Late! It's nearly ten o'clock," answered Natasha's voice. A -rustle of starched petticoats and the whispering and laughter of -girls' voices came from the adjoining room. The door was opened a -crack and there was a glimpse of something blue, of ribbons, black -hair, and merry faces. It was Natasha, Sonya, and Petya, who had -come to see whether they were getting up. - -"Nicholas! Get up!" Natasha's voice was again heard at the door. - -"Directly!" - -Meanwhile, Petya, having found and seized the sabers in the outer -room, with the delight boys feel at the sight of a military elder -brother, and forgetting that it was unbecoming for the girls to see -men undressed, opened the bedroom door. - -"Is this your saber?" he shouted. - -The girls sprang aside. Denisov hid his hairy legs under the -blanket, looking with a scared face at his comrade for help. The door, -having let Petya in, closed again. A sound of laughter came from -behind it. - -"Nicholas! Come out in your dressing gown!" said Natasha's voice. - -"Is this your saber?" asked Petya. "Or is it yours?" he said, -addressing the black-mustached Denisov with servile deference. - -Rostov hurriedly put something on his feet, drew on his dressing -gown, and went out. Natasha had put on one spurred boot and was just -getting her foot into the other. Sonya, when he came in, was -twirling round and was about to expand her dresses into a balloon -and sit down. They were dressed alike, in new pale-blue frocks, and -were both fresh, rosy, and bright. Sonya ran away, but Natasha, taking -her brother's arm, led him into the sitting room, where they began -talking. They hardly gave one another time to ask questions and give -replies concerning a thousand little matters which could not -interest anyone but themselves. Natasha laughed at every word he -said or that she said herself, not because what they were saying was -amusing, but because she felt happy and was unable to control her -joy which expressed itself by laughter. - -"Oh, how nice, how splendid!" she said to everything. - -Rostov felt that, under the influence of the warm rays of love, that -childlike smile which had not once appeared on his face since he -left home now for the first time after eighteen months again -brightened his soul and his face. - -"No, but listen," she said, "now you are quite a man, aren't you? -I'm awfully glad you're my brother." She touched his mustache. "I want -to know what you men are like. Are you the same as we? No?" - -"Why did Sonya run away?" asked Rostov. - -"Ah, yes! That's a whole long story! How are you going to speak to -her- thou or you?" - -"As may happen," said Rostov. - -"No, call her you, please! I'll tell you all about it some other -time. No, I'll tell you now. You know Sonya's my dearest friend. -Such a friend that I burned my arm for her sake. Look here!" - -She pulled up her muslin sleeve and showed him a red scar on her -long, slender, delicate arm, high above the elbow on that part that is -covered even by a ball dress. - -"I burned this to prove my love for her. I just heated a ruler in -the fire and pressed it there!" - -Sitting on the sofa with the little cushions on its arms, in what -used to be his old schoolroom, and looking into Natasha's wildly -bright eyes, Rostov re-entered that world of home and childhood -which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the best -joys of his life; and the burning of an arm with a ruler as a proof of -love did not seem to him senseless, he understood and was not -surprised at it. - -"Well, and is that all?" he asked. - -"We are such friends, such friends! All that ruler business was just -nonsense, but we are friends forever. She, if she loves anyone, does -it for life, but I don't understand that, I forget quickly." - -"Well, what then?" - -"Well, she loves me and you like that." - -Natasha suddenly flushed. - -"Why, you remember before you went away?... Well, she says you are -to forget all that.... She says: 'I shall love him always, but let him -be free.' Isn't that lovely and noble! Yes, very noble? Isn't it?" -asked Natasha, so seriously and excitedly that it was evident that -what she was now saying she had talked of before, with tears. - -Rostov became thoughtful. - -"I never go back on my word," he said. "Besides, Sonya is so -charming that only a fool would renounce such happiness." - -"No, no!" cried Natasha, "she and I have already talked it over. -We knew you'd say so. But it won't do, because you see, if you say -that- if you consider yourself bound by your promise- it will seem -as if she had not meant it seriously. It makes it as if you were -marrying her because you must, and that wouldn't do at all." - -Rostov saw that it had been well considered by them. Sonya had -already struck him by her beauty on the preceding day. Today, when -he had caught a glimpse of her, she seemed still more lovely. She -was a charming girl of sixteen, evidently passionately in love with -him (he did not doubt that for an instant). Why should he not love her -now, and even marry her, Rostov thought, but just now there were so -many other pleasures and interests before him! "Yes, they have taken a -wise decision," he thought, "I must remain free." - -"Well then, that's excellent," said he. "We'll talk it over later -on. Oh, how glad I am to have you! - -"Well, and are you still true to Boris?" he continued. - -"Oh, what nonsense!" cried Natasha, laughing. "I don't think about -him or anyone else, and I don't want anything of the kind." - -"Dear me! Then what are you up now?" - -"Now?" repeated Natasha, and a happy smile lit up her face. "Have -you seen Duport?" - -"No." - -"Not seen Duport- the famous dancer? Well then, you won't -understand. That's what I'm up to." - -Curving her arms, Natasha held out her skirts as dancers do, ran -back a few steps, turned, cut a caper, brought her little feet sharply -together, and made some steps on the very tips of her toes. - -"See, I'm standing! See!" she said, but could not maintain herself -on her toes any longer. "So that's what I'm up to! I'll never marry -anyone, but will be a dancer. Only don't tell anyone." - -Rostov laughed so loud and merrily that Denisov, in his bedroom, -felt envious and Natasha could not help joining in. - -"No, but don't you think it's nice?" she kept repeating. - -"Nice! And so you no longer wish to marry Boris?" - -Natasha flared up. "I don't want to marry anyone. And I'll tell -him so when I see him!" - -"Dear me!" said Rostov. - -"But that's all rubbish," Natasha chattered on. "And is Denisov -nice?" she asked. - -"Yes, indeed!" - -"Oh, well then, good-by: go and dress. Is he very terrible, -Denisov?" - -"Why terrible?" asked Nicholas. "No, Vaska is a splendid fellow." - -"You call him Vaska? That's funny! And is he very nice?" - -"Very." - -"Well then, be quick. We'll all have breakfast together." - -And Natasha rose and went out of the room on tiptoe, like a ballet -dancer, but smiling as only happy girls of fifteen can smile. When -Rostov met Sonya in the drawing room, he reddened. He did not know how -to behave with her. The evening before, in the first happy moment of -meeting, they had kissed each other, but today they felt it could -not be done; he felt that everybody, including his mother and sisters, -was looking inquiringly at him and watching to see how he would behave -with her. He kissed her hand and addressed her not as thou but as you- -Sonya. But their eyes met and said thou, and exchanged tender -kisses. Her looks asked him to forgive her for having dared, by -Natasha's intermediacy, to remind him of his promise, and then thanked -him for his love. His looks thanked her for offering him his freedom -and told her that one way or another he would never cease to love her, -for that would be impossible. - -"How strange it is," said Vera, selecting a moment when all were -silent, "that Sonya and Nicholas now say you to one another and meet -like strangers." - -Vera's remark was correct, as her remarks always were, but, like -most of her observations, it made everyone feel uncomfortable, not -only Sonya, Nicholas, and Natasha, but even the old countess, who- -dreading this love affair which might hinder Nicholas from making a -brilliant match- blushed like a girl. - -Denisov, to Rostov's surprise, appeared in the drawing room with -pomaded hair, perfumed, and in a new uniform, looking just as smart as -he made himself when going into battle, and he was more amiable to the -ladies and gentlemen than Rostov had ever expected to see him. - -CHAPTER II - -On his return to Moscow from the army, Nicholas Rostov was -welcomed by his home circle as the best of sons, a hero, and their -darling Nikolenka; by his relations as a charming, attractive, and -polite young man; by his acquaintances as a handsome lieutenant of -hussars, a good dancer, and one of the best matches in the city. - -The Rostovs knew everybody in Moscow. The old count had money enough -that year, as all his estates had been remortgaged, and so Nicholas, -acquiring a trotter of his own, very stylish riding breeches of the -latest cut, such as no one else yet had in Moscow, and boots of the -latest fashion, with extremely pointed toes and small silver spurs, -passed his time very gaily. After a short period of adapting himself -to the old conditions of life, Nicholas found it very pleasant to be -at home again. He felt that he had grown up and matured very much. His -despair at failing in a Scripture examination, his borrowing money -from Gavril to pay a sleigh driver, his kissing Sonya on the sly- he -now recalled all this as childishness he had left immeasurably behind. -Now he was a lieutenant of hussars, in a jacket laced with silver, and -wearing the Cross of St. George, awarded to soldiers for bravery in -action, and in the company of well-known, elderly, and respected -racing men was training a trotter of his own for a race. He knew a -lady on one of the boulevards whom he visited of an evening. He led -the mazurka at the Arkharovs' ball, talked about the war with Field -Marshal Kamenski, visited the English Club, and was on intimate -terms with a colonel of forty to whom Denisov had introduced - -His passion for the Emperor had cooled somewhat in Moscow. But -still, as he did not see him and had no opportunity of seeing him, -he often spoke about him and about his love for him, letting it be -understood that he had not told all and that there was something in -his feelings for the Emperor not everyone could understand, and with -his whole soul he shared the adoration then common in Moscow for the -Emperor, who was spoken of as the "angel incarnate." - -During Rostov's short stay in Moscow, before rejoining the army, -he did not draw closer to Sonya, but rather drifted away from her. She -was very pretty and sweet, and evidently deeply in love with him, -but he was at the period of youth when there seems so much to do -that there is no time for that sort of thing and a young man fears -to bind himself and prizes his freedom which he needs for so many -other things. When he thought of Sonya, during this stay in Moscow, he -said to himself, "Ah, there will be, and there are, many more such -girls somewhere whom I do not yet know. There will be time enough to -think about love when I want to, but now I have no time." Besides, -it seemed to him that the society of women was rather derogatory to -his manhood. He went to balls and into ladies' society with an -affectation of doing so against his will. The races, the English Club, -sprees with Denisov, and visits to a certain house- that was another -matter and quite the thing for a dashing young hussar! - -At the beginning of March, old Count Ilya Rostov was very busy -arranging a dinner in honor of Prince Bagration at the English Club. - -The count walked up and down the hall in his dressing gown, giving -orders to the club steward and to the famous Feoktist, the Club's head -cook, about asparagus, fresh cucumbers, strawberries, veal, and fish -for this dinner. The count had been a member and on the committee of -the Club from the day it was founded. To him the Club entrusted the -arrangement of the festival in honor of Bagration, for few men knew so -well how to arrange a feast on an open-handed, hospitable scale, and -still fewer men would be so well able and willing to make up out of -their own resources what might be needed for the success of the -fete. The club cook and the steward listened to the count's orders -with pleased faces, for they knew that under no other management could -they so easily extract a good profit for themselves from a dinner -costing several thousand rubles. - -"Well then, mind and have cocks' comb in the turtle soup, you know!" - -"Shall we have three cold dishes then?" asked the cook. - -The count considered. - -"We can't have less- yes, three... the mayonnaise, that's one," said -he, bending down a finger. - -"Then am I to order those large sterlets?" asked the steward. - -"Yes, it can't be helped if they won't take less. Ah, dear me! I was -forgetting. We must have another entree. Ah, goodness gracious!" he -clutched at his head. "Who is going to get me the flowers? Dmitri! Eh, -Dmitri! Gallop off to our Moscow estate," he said to the factotum -who appeared at his call. "Hurry off and tell Maksim, the gardener, to -set the serfs to work. Say that everything out of the hothouses must -be brought here well wrapped up in felt. I must have two hundred -pots here on Friday." - -Having given several more orders, he was about to go to his -"little countess" to have a rest, but remembering something else of -importance, he returned again, called back the cook and the club -steward, and again began giving orders. A light footstep and the -clinking of spurs were heard at the door, and the young count, -handsome, rosy, with a dark little mustache, evidently rested and made -sleeker by his easy life in Moscow, entered the room. - -"Ah, my boy, my head's in a whirl!" said the old man with a smile, -as if he felt a little confused before his son. "Now, if you would -only help a bit! I must have singers too. I shall have my own -orchestra, but shouldn't we get the gypsy singers as well? You -military men like that sort of thing." - -"Really, Papa, I believe Prince Bagration worried himself less -before the battle of Schon Grabern than you do now," said his son with -a smile. - -The old count pretended to be angry. - -"Yes, you talk, but try it yourself!" - -And the count turned to the cook, who, with a shrewd and -respectful expression, looked observantly and sympathetically at the -father and son. - -"What have the young people come to nowadays, eh, Feoktist?" said -he. "Laughing at us old fellows!" - -"That's so, your excellency, all they have to do is to eat a good -dinner, but providing it and serving it all up, that's not their -business! - -"That's it, that's it!" exclaimed the count, and gaily seizing his -son by both hands, he cried, "Now I've got you, so take the sleigh and -pair at once, and go to Bezukhob's, and tell him 'Count Ilya has -sent you to ask for strawberries and fresh pineapples.' We can't get -them from anyone else. He's not there himself, so you'll have to go in -and ask the princesses; and from there go on to the Rasgulyay- the -coachman Ipatka knows- and look up the gypsy Ilyushka, the one who -danced at Count Orlov's, you remember, in a white Cossack coat, and -bring him along to me." - -"And am I to bring the gypsy girls along with him?" asked -Nicholas, laughing. "Dear, dear!..." - -At that moment, with noiseless footsteps and with the -businesslike, preoccupied, yet meekly Christian look which never -left her face, Anna Mikhaylovna entered the hall. Though she came upon -the count in his dressing gown every day, he invariably became -confused and begged her to excuse his costume. - -"No matter at all, my dear count," she said, meekly closing her -eyes. "But I'll go to Bezukhov's myself. Pierre has arrived, and now -we shall get anything we want from his hothouses. I have to see him in -any case. He has forwarded me a letter from Boris. Thank God, Boris is -now on the staff." - -The count was delighted at Anna Mikhaylovna's taking upon herself -one of his commissions and ordered the small closed carriage for her. - -"Tell Bezukhov to come. I'll put his name down. Is his wife with -him?" he asked. - -Anna Mikhaylovna turned up her eyes, and profound sadness was -depicted on her face. - -"Ah, my dear friend, he is very unfortunate," she said. "If what -we hear is true, it is dreadful. How little we dreamed of such a thing -when we were rejoicing at his happiness! And such a lofty angelic soul -as young Bezukhov! Yes, I pity him from my heart, and shall try to -give him what consolation I can." - -"Wh-what is the matter?" asked both the young and old Rostov. - -Anna Mikhaylovna sighed deeply. - -"Dolokhov, Mary Ivanovna's son," she said in a mysterious whisper, -"has compromised her completely, they say. Pierre took him up, invited -him to his house in Petersburg, and now... she has come here and -that daredevil after her!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, wishing to show -her sympathy for Pierre, but by involuntary intonations and a half -smile betraying her sympathy for the "daredevil," as she called -Dolokhov. "They say Pierre is quite broken by his misfortune." - -"Dear, dear! But still tell him to come to the Club- it will all -blow over. It will be a tremendous banquet." - -Next day, the third of March, soon after one o'clock, two hundred -and fifty members of the English Club and fifty guests were awaiting -the guest of honor and hero of the Austrian campaign, Prince -Bagration, to dinner. - -On the first arrival of the news of the battle of Austerlitz, Moscow -had been bewildered. At that time, the Russians were so used to -victories that on receiving news of the defeat some would simply not -believe it, while others sought some extraordinary explanation of so -strange an event. In the English Club, where all who were -distinguished, important, and well informed forgathered when the -news began to arrive in December, nothing was said about the war and -the last battle, as though all were in a conspiracy of silence. The -men who set the tone in conversation- Count Rostopchin, Prince Yuri -Dolgorukov, Valuev, Count Markov, and Prince Vyazemski- did not show -themselves at the Club, but met in private houses in intimate circles, -and the Moscovites who took their opinions from others- Ilya Rostov -among them- remained for a while without any definite opinion on the -subject of the war and without leaders. The Moscovites felt that -something was wrong and that to discuss the bad news was difficult, -and so it was best to be silent. But after a while, just as a jury -comes out of its room, the bigwigs who guided the Club's opinion -reappeared, and everybody began speaking clearly and definitely. -Reasons were found for the incredible, unheard-of, and impossible -event of a Russian defeat, everything became clear, and in all corners -of Moscow the same things began to be said. These reasons were the -treachery of the Austrians, a defective commissariat, the treachery of -the Pole Przebyszewski and of the Frenchman Langeron, Kutuzov's -incapacity, and (it was whispered) the youth and inexperience of the -sovereign, who had trusted worthless and insignificant people. But the -army, the Russian army, everyone declared, was extraordinary and had -achieved miracles of valor.The soldiers, officers, and generals were -heroes. But the hero of heroes was Prince Bagration, distinguished -by his Schon Grabern affair and by the retreat from Austerlitz, -where he alone had withdrawn his column unbroken and had all day -beaten back an enemy force twice as numerous as his own. What also -conduced to Bagration's being selected as Moscow's hero was the fact -that he had no connections in the city and was a stranger there. In -his person, honor was shown to a simple fighting Russian soldier -without connections and intrigues, and to one who was associated by -memories of the Italian campaign with the name of Suvorov. Moreover, -paying such honor to Bagration was the best way of expressing -disapproval and dislike of Kutuzov. - -"Had there been no Bagration, it would have been necessary to invent -him," said the wit Shinshin, parodying the words of Voltaire. -Kutuzov no one spoke of, except some who abused him in whispers, -calling him a court weathercock and an old satyr. - -All Moscow repeated Prince Dolgorukov's saying: "If you go on -modeling and modeling you must get smeared with clay," suggesting -consolation for our defeat by the memory of former victories; and -the words of Rostopchin, that French soldiers have to be incited to -battle by highfalutin words, and Germans by logical arguments to -show them that it is more dangerous to run away than to advance, but -that Russian soldiers only need to be restrained and held back! On all -sides, new and fresh anecdotes were heard of individual examples of -heroism shown by our officers and men at Austerlitz. One had saved a -standard, another had killed five Frenchmen, a third had loaded five -cannon singlehanded. Berg was mentioned, by those who did not know -him, as having, when wounded in the right hand, taken his sword in the -left, and gone forward. Of Bolkonski, nothing was said, and only those -who knew him intimately regretted that he had died so young, leaving a -pregnant wife with his eccentric father. - -CHAPTER III - -On that third of March, all the rooms in the English Club were -filled with a hum of conversation, like the hum of bees swarming in -springtime. The members and guests of the Club wandered hither and -thither, sat, stood, met, and separated, some in uniform and some in -evening dress, and a few here and there with powdered hair and in -Russian kaftans. Powdered footmen, in livery with buckled shoes and -smart stockings, stood at every door anxiously noting visitors' -every movement in order to offer their services. Most of those present -were elderly, respected men with broad, self-confident faces, fat -fingers, and resolute gestures and voices. This class of guests and -members sat in certain habitual places and met in certain habitual -groups. A minority of those present were casual guests- chiefly -young men, among whom were Denisov, Rostov, and Dolokhov- who was -now again an officer in the Semenov regiment. The faces of these young -people, especially those who were militarymen, bore that expression of -condescending respect for their elders which seems to say to the older -generation, "We are prepared to respect and honor you, but all the -same remember that the future belongs to us." - -Nesvitski was there as an old member of the Club. Pierre, who at his -wife's command had let his hair grow and abandoned his spectacles, -went about the rooms fashionably dressed but looking sad and dull. -Here, as elsewhere, he was surrounded by an atmosphere of subservience -to his wealth, and being in the habit of lording it over these people, -he treated them with absent-minded contempt. - -By his age he should have belonged to the younger men, but by his -wealth and connections he belonged to the groups old and honored -guests, and so he went from one group to another. Some of the most -important old men were the center of groups which even strangers -approached respectfully to hear the voices of well-known men. The -largest circles formed round Count Rostopchin, Valuev, and -Naryshkin. Rostopchin was describing how the Russians had been -overwhelmed by flying Austrians and had had to force their way through -them with bayonets. - -Valuev was confidentially telling that Uvarov had been sent from -Petersburg to ascertain what Moscow was thinking about Austerlitz. - -In the third circle, Naryshkin was speaking of the meeting of the -Austrian Council of War at which Suvorov crowed like a cock in reply -to the nonsense talked by the Austrian generals. Shinshin, standing -close by, tried to make a joke, saying that Kutuzov had evidently -failed to learn from Suvorov even so simple a thing as the art of -crowing like a cock, but the elder members glanced severely at the -wit, making him feel that in that place and on that day, it was -improper to speak so of Kutuzov. - -Count Ilya Rostov, hurried and preoccupied, went about in his soft -boots between the dining and drawing rooms, hastily greeting the -important and unimportant, all of whom he knew, as if they were all -equals, while his eyes occasionally sought out his fine well-set-up -young son, resting on him and winking joyfully at him. Young Rostov -stood at a window with Dolokhov, whose acquaintance he had lately made -and highly valued. The old count came up to them and pressed -Dolokhov's hand. - -"Please come and visit us... you know my brave boy... been -together out there... both playing the hero... Ah, Vasili -Ignatovich... How d'ye do, old fellow?" he said, turning to an old man -who was passing, but before he had finished his greeting there was a -general stir, and a footman who had run in announced, with a -frightened face: "He's arrived!" - -Bells rang, the stewards rushed forward, and- like rye shaken -together in a shovel- the guests who had been scattered about in -different rooms came together and crowded in the large drawing room by -the door of the ballroom. - -Bagration appeared in the doorway of the anteroom without hat or -sword, which, in accord with the Club custom, he had given up to the -hall porter. He had no lambskin cap on his head, nor had he a loaded -whip over his shoulder, as when Rostov had seen him on the eve of -the battle of Austerlitz, but wore a tight new uniform with Russian -and foreign Orders, and the Star of St. George on his left breast. -Evidently just before coming to the dinner he had had his hair and -whiskers trimmed, which changed his appearance for the worse. There -was something naively festive in his air, which, in conjunction with -his firm and virile features, gave him a rather comical expression. -Bekleshev and Theodore Uvarov, who had arrived with him, paused at the -doorway to allow him, as the guest of honor, to enter first. Bagration -was embarrassed, not wishing to avail himself of their courtesy, and -this caused some delay at the doors, but after all he did at last -enter first. He walked shyly and awkwardly over the parquet floor of -the reception room, not knowing what to do with his hands; he was more -accustomed to walk over a plowed field under fire, as he had done at -the head of the Kursk regiment at Schon Grabern- and he would have -found that easier. The committeemen met him at the first door and, -expressing their delight at seeing such a highly honored guest, took -possession of him as it were, without waiting for his reply, -surrounded him, and led him to the drawing room. It was at first -impossible to enter the drawing-room door for the crowd of members and -guests jostling one another and trying to get a good look at Bagration -over each other's shoulders, as if he were some rare animal. Count -Ilya Rostov, laughing and repeating the words, "Make way, dear boy! -Make way, make way!" pushed through the crowd more energetically -than anyone, led the guests into the drawing room, and seated them -on the center sofa. The bigwigs, the most respected members of the -Club, beset the new arrivals. Count Ilya, again thrusting his way -through the crowd, went out of the drawing room and reappeared a -minute later with another committeeman, carrying a large silver salver -which he presented to Prince Bagration. On the salver lay some -verses composed and printed in the hero's honor. Bagration, on -seeing the salver, glanced around in dismay, as though seeking help. -But all eyes demanded that he should submit. Feeling himself in -their power, he resolutely took the salver with both hands and -looked sternly and reproachfully at the count who had presented it -to him. Someone obligingly took the dish from Bagration (or he -would, it seemed, have held it till evening and have gone in to dinner -with it) and drew his attention to the verses. - -"Well, I will read them, then!" Bagration seemed to say, and, fixing -his weary eyes on the paper, began to read them with a fixed and -serious expression. But the author himself took the verses and began -reading them aloud. Bagration bowed his bead and listened: - -``` block - Bring glory then to Alexander's reign -And on the throne our Titus shield. -A dreaded foe be thou, kindhearted as a man, -A Rhipheus at home, a Caesar in the field! -E'en fortunate Napoleon -Knows by experience, now, Bagration, -And dare not Herculean Russians trouble... -``` - -But before he had finished reading, a stentorian major-domo -announced that dinner was ready! The door opened, and from the -dining room came the resounding strains of the polonaise: - -``` block - Conquest's joyful thunder waken, -Triumph, valiant Russians, now!... -``` - -and Count Rostov, glancing angrily at the author who went on reading -his verses, bowed to Bagration. Everyone rose, feeling that dinner was -more important than verses, and Bagration, again preceding all the -rest, went in to dinner. He was seated in the place of honor between -two Alexanders- Bekleshev and Naryshkin- which was a significant -allusion to the name of the sovereign. Three hundred persons took -their seats in the dining room, according to their rank and -importance: the more important nearer to the honored guest, as -naturally as water flows deepest where the land lies lowest. - -Just before dinner, Count Ilya Rostov presented his son to -Bagration, who recognized him and said a few words to him, -disjointed and awkward, as were all the words he spoke that day, and -Count Ilya looked joyfully and proudly around while Bagration spoke to -his son. - -Nicholas Rostov, with Denisov and his new acquaintance, Dolokhov, -sat almost at the middle of the table. Facing them sat Pierre, -beside Prince Nesvitski. Count Ilya Rostov with the other members of -the committee sat facing Bagration and, as the very personification of -Moscow hospitality, did the honors to the prince. - -His efforts had not been in vain. The dinner, both the Lenten and -the other fare, was splendid, yet he could not feel quite at ease till -the end of the meal. He winked at the butler, whispered directions -to the footmen, and awaited each expected dish with some anxiety. -Everything was excellent. With the second course, a gigantic sterlet -(at sight of which Ilya Rostov blushed with self-conscious -pleasure), the footmen began popping corks and filling the champagne -glasses. After the fish, which made a certain sensation, the count -exchanged glances with the other committeemen. "There will be many -toasts, it's time to begin," he whispered, and taking up his glass, he -rose. All were silent, waiting for what he would say. - -"To the health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he cried, and at -the same moment his kindly eyes grew moist with tears of joy and -enthusiasm. The band immediately struck up "Conquest's joyful -thunder waken..." All rose and cried "Hurrah!" Bagration also rose and -shouted "Hurrah!" in exactly the same voice in which he had shouted it -on the field at Schon Grabern. Young Rostov's ecstatic voice could -be heard above the three hundred others. He nearly wept. "To the -health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he roared, "Hurrah!" and -emptying his glass at one gulp he dashed it to the floor. Many -followed his example, and the loud shouting continued for a long time. -When the voices subsided, the footmen cleared away the broken glass -and everybody sat down again, smiling at the noise they had made and -exchanging remarks. The old count rose once more, glanced at a note -lying beside his plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the -hero of our last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and -again his blue eyes grew moist. "Hurrah!" cried the three hundred -voices again, but instead of the band a choir began singing a -cantata composed by Paul Ivanovich Kutuzov: - -``` block - Russians! O'er all barriers on! -Courage conquest guarantees; -Have we not Bagration? -He brings foe men to their knees,... etc. -``` - -As soon as the singing was over, another and another toast was -proposed and Count Ilya Rostov became more and more moved, more -glass was smashed, and the shouting grew louder. They drank to -Bekleshev, Naryshkin, Uvarov, Dolgorukov, Apraksin, Valuev, to the -committee, to all the Club members and to all the Club guests, and -finally to Count Ilya Rostov separately, as the organizer of the -banquet. At that toast, the count took out his handkerchief and, -covering his face, wept outright. - -CHAPTER IV - -Pierre sat opposite Dolokhov and Nicholas Rostov. As usual, he ate -and drank much, and eagerly. But those who knew him intimately noticed -that some great change had come over him that day. He was silent all -through dinner and looked about, blinking and scowling, or, with fixed -eyes and a look of complete absent-mindedness, kept rubbing the bridge -of his nose. His face was depressed and gloomy. He seemed to see and -hear nothing of what was going on around him and to be absorbed by -some depressing and unsolved problem. - -The unsolved problem that tormented him was caused by hints given by -the princess, his cousin, at Moscow, concerning Dolokhov's intimacy -with his wife, and by an anonymous letter he had received that -morning, which in the mean jocular way common to anonymous letters -said that he saw badly through his spectacles, but that his wife's -connection with Dolokhov was a secret to no one but himself. Pierre -absolutely disbelieved both the princess' hints and the letter, but he -feared now to look at Dolokhov, who was sitting opposite him. Every -time he chanced to meet Dolokhov's handsome insolent eyes, Pierre felt -something terrible and monstrous rising in his soul and turned quickly -away. Involuntarily recalling his wife's past and her relations with -Dolokhov, Pierre saw clearly that what was said in the letter might be -true, or might at least seem to be true had it not referred to his -wife. He involuntarily remembered how Dolokhov, who had fully -recovered his former position after the campaign, had returned to -Petersburg and come to him. Availing himself of his friendly relations -with Pierre as a boon companion, Dolokhov had come straight to his -house, and Pierre had put him up and lent him money. Pierre recalled -how Helene had smilingly expressed disapproval of Dolokhov's living at -their house, and how cynically Dolokhov had praised his wife's -beauty to him and from that time till they came to Moscow had not left -them for a day. - -"Yes, he is very handsome," thought Pierre, "and I know him. It -would be particularly pleasant to him to dishonor my name and ridicule -me, just because I have exerted myself on his behalf, befriended -him, and helped him. I know and understand what a spice that would add -to the pleasure of deceiving me, if it really were true. Yes, if it -were true, but I do not believe it. I have no right to, and can't, -believe it." He remembered the expression Dolokhov's face assumed in -his moments of cruelty, as when tying the policeman to the bear and -dropping them into the water, or when he challenged a man to a duel -without any reason, or shot a post-boy's horse with a pistol. That -expression was often on Dolokhov's face when looking at him. "Yes, -he is a bully," thought Pierre, "to kill a man means nothing to him. -It must seem to him that everyone is afraid of him, and that must -please him. He must think that I, too, am afraid of him- and in fact I -am afraid of him," he thought, and again he felt something terrible -and monstrous rising in his soul. Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov were -now sitting opposite Pierre and seemed very gay. Rostov was talking -merrily to his two friends, one of whom was a dashing hussar and the -other a notorious duelist and rake, and every now and then he -glanced ironically at Pierre, whose preoccupied, absent-minded, and -massive figure was a very noticeable one at the dinner. Rostov -looked inimically at Pierre, first because Pierre appeared to his -hussar eyes as a rich civilian, the husband of a beauty, and in a -word- an old woman; and secondly because Pierre in his preoccupation -and absent-mindedness had not recognized Rostov and had not -responded to his greeting. When the Emperor's health was drunk, -Pierre, lost in thought, did not rise or lift his glass. - -"What are you about?" shouted Rostov, looking at him in an ecstasy -of exasperation. "Don't you hear it's His Majesty the Emperor's -health?" - -Pierre sighed, rose submissively, emptied his glass, and, waiting -till all were seated again, turned with his kindly smile to Rostov. - -"Why, I didn't recognize you!" he said. But Rostov was otherwise -engaged; he was shouting "Hurrah!" - -"Why don't you renew the acquaintance?" said Dolokhov to Rostov. - -"Confound him, he's a fool!" said Rostov. - -"One should make up to the husbands of pretty women," said Denisov. - -Pierre did not catch what they were saying, but knew they were -talking about him. He reddened and turned away. - -"Well, now to the health of handsome women!" said Dolokhov, and with -a serious expression, but with a smile lurking at the corners of his -mouth, he turned with his glass to Pierre. - -"Here's to the health of lovely women, Peterkin- and their -lovers!" he added. - -Pierre, with downcast eyes, drank out of his glass without looking -at Dolokhov or answering him. The footman, who was distributing -leaflets with Kutuzov's cantata, laid one before Pierre as one of -the principal guests. He was just going to take it when Dolokhov, -leaning across, snatched it from his hand and began reading it. Pierre -looked at Dolokhov and his eyes dropped, the something terrible and -monstrous that had tormented him all dinnertime rose and took -possession of him. He leaned his whole massive body across the table. - -"How dare you take it?" he shouted. - -Hearing that cry and seeing to whom it was addressed, Nesvitski -and the neighbor on his right quickly turned in alarm to Bezukhov. - -"Don't! Don't! What are you about?" whispered their frightened -voices. - -Dolokhov looked at Pierre with clear, mirthful, cruel eyes, and that -smile of his which seemed to say, "Ah! This is what I like!" - -"You shan't have it!" he said distinctly. - -Pale, with quivering lips, Pierre snatched the copy. - -"You...! you... scoundrel! I challenge you!" he ejaculated, and, -pushing back his chair, he rose from the table. - -At the very instant he did this and uttered those words, Pierre felt -that the question of his wife's guilt which had been tormenting him -the whole day was finally and indubitably answered in the affirmative. -He hated her and was forever sundered from her. Despite Denisov's -request that he would take no part in the matter, Rostov agreed to -be Dolokhov's second, and after dinner he discussed the arrangements -for the duel with Nesvitski, Bezukhov's second. Pierre went home, -but Rostov with Dolokhov and Denisov stayed on at the Club till -late, listening to the gypsies and other singers. - -"Well then, till tomorrow at Sokolniki,"said Dolokhov, as he took -leave of Rostov in the Club porch. - -"And do you feel quite calm?" Rostov asked. - -Dolokhov paused. - -"Well, you see, I'll tell you the whole secret of dueling in two -words. If you are going to fight a duel, and you make a will and write -affectionate letters to your parents, and if you think you may be -killed, you are a fool and are lost for certain. But go with the -firm intention of killing your man as quickly and surely as -possible, and then all will be right, as our bear huntsman at Kostroma -used to tell me. 'Everyone fears a bear,' he says, 'but when you see -one your fear's all gone, and your only thought is not to let him -get away!' And that's how it is with me. A demain, mon cher."~{ Till tomorrow, my dear fellow. }~ - -Next day, at eight in the morning, Pierre and Nesvitski drove to the -Sokolniki forest and found Dolokhov, Denisov, and Rostov already -there. Pierre had the air of a man preoccupied with considerations -which had no connection with the matter in hand. His haggard face -was yellow. He had evidently not slept that night. He looked about -distractedly and screwed up his eyes as if dazzled by the sun. He -was entirely absorbed by two considerations: his wife's guilt, of -which after his sleepless night he had not the slightest doubt, and -the guiltlessness of Dolokhov, who had no reason to preserve the honor -of a man who was nothing to him.... "I should perhaps have done the -same thing in his place," thought Pierre. "It's even certain that I -should have done the same, then why this duel, this murder? Either I -shall kill him, or he will hit me in the head, or elbow, or knee. -Can't I go away from here, run away, bury myself somewhere?" passed -through his mind. But just at moments when such thoughts occurred to -him, he would ask in a particularly calm and absent-minded way, -which inspired the respect of the onlookers, "Will it be long? Are -things ready?" - -When all was ready, the sabers stuck in the snow to mark the -barriers, and the pistols loaded, Nesvitski went up to Pierre. - -"I should not be doing my duty, Count," he said in timid tones, "and -should not justify your confidence and the honor you have done me in -choosing me for your second, if at this grave, this very grave, moment -I did not tell you the whole truth. I think there is no sufficient -ground for this affair, or for blood to be shed over it.... You were -not right, not quite in the right, you were impetuous..." - -"Oh yes, it is horribly stupid," said Pierre. - -"Then allow me to express your regrets, and I am sure your -opponent will accept them," said Nesvitski (who like the others -concerned in the affair, and like everyone in similar cases, did not -yet believe that the affair had come to an actual duel). "You know, -Count, it is much more honorable to admit one's mistake than to let -matters become irreparable. There was no insult on either side. -Allow me to convey...." - -"No! What is there to talk about?" said Pierre. "It's all the -same.... Is everything ready?" he added. "Only tell me where to go and -where to shoot," he said with an unnaturally gentle smile. - -He took the pistol in his hand and began asking about the working of -the trigger, as he had not before held a pistol in his hand- a fact -that he did not to confess. - -"Oh yes, like that, I know, I only forgot," said he. - -"No apologies, none whatever," said Dolokhov to Denisov (who on -his side had been attempting a reconciliation), and he also went up to -the appointed place. - -The spot chosen for the duel was some eighty paces from the road, -where the sleighs had been left, in a small clearing in the pine -forest covered with melting snow, the frost having begun to break up -during the last few days. The antagonists stood forty paces apart at -the farther edge of the clearing. The seconds, measuring the paces, -left tracks in the deep wet snow between the place where they had been -standing and Nesvitski's and Dolokhov's sabers, which were stuck -intothe ground ten paces apart to mark the barrier. It was thawing and -misty; at forty paces' distance nothing could be seen. For three -minutes all had been ready, but they still delayed and all were -silent. - -CHAPTER V - -"Well begin!" said Dolokhov. - -"All right," said Pierre, still smiling in the same way. A feeling -of dread was in the air. It was evident that the affair so lightly -begun could no longer be averted but was taking its course -independently of men's will. - -Denisov first went to the barrier and announced: "As the adve'sawies -have wefused a weconciliation, please pwoceed. Take your pistols, -and at the word thwee begin to advance. - -"O-ne! T-wo! Thwee!" he shouted angrily and stepped aside. - -The combatants advanced along the trodden tracks, nearer and -nearer to one another, beginning to see one another through the -mist. They had the right to fire when they liked as they approached -the barrier. Dolokhov walked slowly without raising his pistol, -looking intently with his bright, sparkling blue eyes into his -antagonist's face. His mouth wore its usual semblance of a smile. - -"So I can fire when I like!" said Pierre, and at the word "three," -he went quickly forward, missing the trodden path and stepping into -the deep snow. He held the pistol in his right hand at arm's length, -apparently afraid of shooting himself with it. His left hand he held -carefully back, because he wished to support his right hand with it -and knew he must not do so. Having advanced six paces and strayed -off the track into the snow, Pierre looked down at his feet, then -quickly glanced at Dolokhov and, bending his finger as he had been -shown, fired. Not at all expecting so loud a report, Pierre -shuddered at the sound and then, smiling at his own sensations, -stood still. The smoke, rendered denser by the mist, prevented him -from seeing anything for an instant, but there was no second report as -he had expected. He only heard Dolokhov's hurried steps, and his -figure came in view through the smoke. He was pressing one hand to his -left side, while the other clutched his drooping pistol. His face -was pale. Rostov ran toward him and said something. - -"No-o-o!" muttered Dolokhov through his teeth, "no, it's not -over." And after stumbling a few staggering steps right up to the -saber, he sank on the snow beside it. His left hand was bloody; he -wiped it on his coat and supported himself with it. His frowning -face was pallid and quivered. - -"Plea..." began Dolokhov, but could not at first pronounce the word. - -"Please," he uttered with an effort. - -Pierre, hardly restraining his sobs, began running toward Dolokhov -and was about to cross the space between the barriers, when Dolokhov -cried: - -"To your barrier!" and Pierre, grasping what was meant, stopped by -his saber. Only ten paces divided them. Dolokhov lowered his head to -the snow, greedily bit at it, again raised his head, adjusted himself, -drew in his legs and sat up, seeking a firm center of gravity. He -sucked and sucked and swallowed the cold snow, his lips quivered but -his eyes, still smiling, glittered with effort and exasperation as -he mustered his remaining strength. He raised his pistol and aimed. - -"Sideways! Cover yourself with your pistol!" ejaculated Nesvitski. - -"Cover yourself!" even Denisov cried to his adversary. - -Pierre, with a gentle smile of pity and remorse, his arms and legs -helplessly spread out, stood with his broad chest directly facing -Dolokhov looked sorrowfully at him. Denisov, Rostov, and Nesvitski -closed their eyes. At the same instant they heard a report and -Dolokhov's angry cry. - -"Missed!" shouted Dolokhov, and he lay helplessly, face downwards on -the snow. - -Pierre clutched his temples, and turning round went into the forest, -trampling through the deep snow, and muttering incoherent words: - -"Folly... folly! Death... lies..." he repeated, puckering his face. - -Nesvitski stopped him and took him home. - -Rostov and Denisov drove away with the wounded Dolokhov. - -The latter lay silent in the sleigh with closed eyes and did not -answer a word to the questions addressed to him. But on entering -Moscow he suddenly came to and, lifting his head with an effort, -took Rostov, who was sitting beside him, by the hand. Rostov was -struck by the totally altered and unexpectedly rapturous and tender -expression on Dolokhov's face. - -"Well? How do you feel?" he asked. - -"Bad! But it's not that, my friend-" said Dolokhov with a gasping -voice. "Where are we? In Moscow, I know. I don't matter, but I have -killed her, killed... She won't get over it! She won't survive...." - -"Who?" asked Rostov. - -"My mother! My mother, my angel, my adored angel mother," and -Dolokhov pressed Rostov's hand and burst into tears. - -When he had become a little quieter, he explained to Rostov that -he was living with his mother, who, if she saw him dying, would not -survive it. He implored Rostov to go on and prepare her. - -Rostov went on ahead to do what was asked, and to his great surprise -learned that Dolokhov the brawler, Dolokhov the bully, lived in Moscow -with an old mother and a hunchback sister, and was the most -affectionate of sons and brothers. - -CHAPTER VI - -Pierre had of late rarely seen his wife alone. Both in Petersburg -and in Moscow their house was always full of visitors. The night after -the duel he did not go to his bedroom but, as he often did, remained -in his father's room, that huge room in which Count Bezukhov had died. - -He lay down on the sofa meaning to fall asleep and forget all that -had happened to him, but could not do so. Such a storm of feelings, -thoughts, and memories suddenly arose within him that he could not -fall asleep, nor even remain in one place, but had to jump up and pace -the room with rapid steps. Now he seemed to see her in the early -days of their marriage, with bare shoulders and a languid, -passionate look on her face, and then immediately he saw beside her -Dolokhov's handsome, insolent, hard, and mocking face as he had seen -it at the banquet, and then that same face pale, quivering, and -suffering, as it had been when he reeled and sank on the snow. - -"What has happened?" he asked himself. "I have killed her lover, -yes, killed my wife's lover. Yes, that was it! And why? How did I come -to do it?"- "Because you married her," answered an inner voice. - -"But in what was I to blame?" he asked. "In marrying her without -loving her; in deceiving yourself and her." And he vividly recalled -that moment after supper at Prince Vasili's, when he spoke those words -he had found so difficult to utter: "I love you." "It all comes from -that! Even then I felt it," he thought. "I felt then that it was not -so, that I had no right to do it. And so it turns out." - -He remembered his honeymoon and blushed at the recollection. -Particularly vivid, humiliating, and shameful was the recollection -of how one day soon after his marriage he came out of the bedroom into -his study a little before noon in his silk dressing gown and found his -head steward there, who, bowing respectfully, looked into his face and -at his dressing gown and smiled slightly, as if expressing -respectful understanding of his employer's happiness. - -"But how often I have felt proud of her, proud of her majestic -beauty and social tact," thought he; "been proud of my house, in which -she received all Petersburg, proud of her unapproachability and -beauty. So this is what I was proud of! I then thought that I did -not understand her. How often when considering her character I have -told myself that I was to blame for not understanding her, for not -understanding that constant composure and complacency and lack of -all interests or desires, and the whole secret lies in the terrible -truth that she is a depraved woman. Now I have spoken that terrible -word to myself all has become clear. - -"Anatole used to come to borrow money from her and used to kiss -her naked shoulders. She did not give him the money, but let herself -be kissed. Her father in jest tried to rouse her jealousy, and she -replied with a calm smile that she was not so stupid as to be jealous: -'Let him do what he pleases,' she used to say of me. One day I asked -her if she felt any symptoms of pregnancy. She laughed -contemptuously and said she was not a fool to want to have children, -and that she was not going to have any children by me." - -Then he recalled the coarseness and bluntness of her thoughts and -the vulgarity of the expressions that were natural to her, though -she had been brought up in the most aristocratic circles. - -"I'm not such a fool.... Just you try it on.... Allez-vous -promener,"~{ "You clear out of this." }~ she used to say. Often seeing the success she had with -young and old men and women Pierre could not understand why he did not -love her. - -"Yes, I never loved her," said he to himself; "I knew she was a -depraved woman," he repeated, "but dared not admit it to myself. And -now there's Dolokhov sitting in the snow with a forced smile and -perhaps dying, while meeting my remorse with some forced bravado!" - -Pierre was one of those people who, in spite of an appearance of -what is called weak character, do not seek a confidant in their -troubles. He digested his sufferings alone. - -"It is all, all her fault," he said to himself; "but what of that? -Why did I bind myself to her? Why did I say 'Je vous aime'~{ I love you. }~ to her, -which was a lie, and worse than a lie? I am guilty and must -endure... what? A slur on my name? A misfortune for life? Oh, that's -nonsense," he thought. "The slur on my name and honor- that's all -apart from myself. - -"Louis XVI was executed because they said he was dishonorable and -a criminal," came into Pierre's head, "and from their point of view -they were right, as were those too who canonized him and died a -martyr's death for his sake. Then Robespierre was beheaded for being a -despot. Who is right and who is wrong? No one! But if you are alive- -live: tomorrow you'll die as I might have died an hour ago. And is -it worth tormenting oneself, when one has only a moment of life in -comparison with eternity?" - -But at the moment when he imagined himself calmed by such -reflections, she suddenly came into his mind as she was at the moments -when he had most strongly expressed his insincere love for her, and he -felt the blood rush to his heart and had again to get up and move -about and break and tear whatever came to his hand. "Why did I tell -her that 'Je vous aime'?" he kept repeating to himself. And when he -had said it for the tenth time, Molibre's words: "Mais que diable -alloit-il faire dans cette galere?" occurred to him, and he began to -laugh at himself. - -In the night he called his valet and told him to pack up to go to -Petersburg. He could not imagine how he could speak to her now. He -resolved to go away next day and leave a letter informing her of his -intention to part from her forever. - -Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, -Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand. - -He woke up and looked round for a while with a startled -expression, unable to realize where he was. - -"The countess told me to inquire whether your excellency was at -home," said the valet. - -But before Pierre could decide what answer he would send, the -countess herself in a white satin dressing gown embroidered with -silver and with simply dressed hair (two immense plaits twice round -her lovely head like a coronet) entered the room, calm and majestic, -except that there was a wrathful wrinkle on her rather prominent -marble brow. With her imperturbable calm she did not begin to speak in -front of the valet. She knew of the duel and had come to speak about -it. She waited till the valet had set down the coffee things and -left the room. Pierre looked at her timidly over his spectacles, and -like a hare surrounded by hounds who lays back her ears and -continues to crouch motionless before her enemies, he tried to -continue reading. But feeling this to be senseless and impossible, -he again glanced timidly at her. She did not sit down but looked at -him with a contemptuous smile, waiting for the valet to go. - -"Well, what's this now? What have you been up to now, I should -like to know?" she asked sternly. - -"I? What have I...?" stammered Pierre. - -"So it seems you're a hero, eh? Come now, what was this duel -about? What is it meant to prove? What? I ask you." - -Pierre turned over heavily on the ottoman and opened his mouth, -but could not reply. - -"If you won't answer, I'll tell you..." Helene went on. "You believe -everything you're told. You were told..." Helene laughed, "that -Dolokhov was my lover," she said in French with her coarse plainness -of speech, uttering the word amant as casually as any other word, "and -you believed it! Well, what have you proved? What does this duel -prove? That you're a fool, que vous etes un sot, but everybody knew -that. What will be the result? That I shall be the laughingstock of -all Moscow, that everyone will say that you, drunk and not knowing -what you were about, challenged a man you are jealous of without -cause." Helene raised her voice and became more and more excited, "A -man who's a better man than you in every way..." - -"Hm... Hm...!" growled Pierre, frowning without looking at her, -and not moving a muscle. - -"And how could you believe he was my lover? Why? Because I like -his company? If you were cleverer and more agreeable, I should -prefer yours." - -"Don't speak to me... I beg you," muttered Pierre hoarsely. - -"Why shouldn't I speak? I can speak as I like, and I tell you -plainly that there are not many wives with husbands such as you who -would not have taken lovers (des amants), but I have not done so," -said she. - -Pierre wished to say something, looked at her with eyes whose -strange expression she did not understand, and lay down again. He -was suffering physically at that moment, there was a weight on his -chest and he could not breathe. He knew that he must do something to -put an end to this suffering, but what he wanted to do was too -terrible. - -"We had better separate," he muttered in a broken voice. - -"Separate? Very well, but only if you give me a fortune," said -Helene. "Separate! That's a thing to frighten me with!" - -Pierre leaped up from the sofa and rushed staggering toward her. - -"I'll kill you!" he shouted, and seizing the marble top of a table -with a strength he had never before felt, he made a step toward her -brandishing the slab. - -Helene's face became terrible, she shrieked and sprang aside. His -father's nature showed itself in Pierre. He felt the fascination and -delight of frenzy. He flung down the slab, broke it, and swooping down -on her with outstretched hands shouted, "Get out!" in such a -terrible voice that the whole house heard it with horror. God knows -what he would have done at that moment had Helene not fled from the -room. - -A week later Pierre gave his wife full power to control all his -estates in Great Russia, which formed the larger part of his property, -and left for Petersburg alone. - -CHAPTER VII - -Two months had elapsed since the news of the battle of Austerlitz -and the loss of Prince Andrew had reached Bald Hills, and in spite -of the letters sent through the embassy and all the searches made, his -body had not been found nor was he on the list of prisoners. What -was worst of all for his relations was the fact that there was still a -possibility of his having been picked up on the battlefield by the -people of the place and that he might now be lying, recovering or -dying, alone among strangers and unable to send news of himself. The -gazettes from which the old prince first heard of the defeat at -Austerlitz stated, as usual very briefly and vaguely, that after -brilliant engagements the Russians had had to retreat and had made -their withdrawal in perfect order. The old prince understood from this -official report that our army had been defeated. A week after the -gazette report of the battle of Austerlitz came a letter from -Kutuzov informing the prince of the fate that had befallen his son. - -"Your son," wrote Kutuzov, "fell before my eyes, a standard in his -hand and at the head of a regiment- he fell as a hero, worthy of his -father and his fatherland. To the great regret of myself and of the -whole army it is still uncertain whether he is alive or not. I comfort -myself and you with the hope that your son is alive, for otherwise -he would have been mentioned among the officers found on the field -of battle, a list of whom has been sent me under flag of truce." - -After receiving this news late in the evening, when he was alone -in his study, the old prince went for his walk as usual next -morning, but he was silent with his steward, the gardener, and the -architect, and though he looked very grim he said nothing to anyone. - -When Princess Mary went to him at the usual hour he was working at -his lathe and, as usual, did not look round at her. - -"Ah, Princess Mary!" he said suddenly in an unnatural voice, -throwing down his chisel. (The wheel continued to revolve by its own -impetus, and Princess Mary long remembered the dying creak of that -wheel, which merged in her memory with what followed.) - -She approached him, saw his face, and something gave way within her. -Her eyes grew dim. By the expression of her father's face, not sad, -not crushed, but angry and working unnaturally, she saw that hanging -over her and about to crush her was some terrible misfortune, the -worst in life, one she had not yet experienced, irreparable and -incomprehensible- the death of one she loved. - -"Father! Andrew!"- said the ungraceful, awkward princess with such -an indescribable charm of sorrow and self-forgetfulness that her -father could not bear her look but turned away with a sob. - -"Bad news! He's not among the prisoners nor among the killed! -Kutuzov writes..." and he screamed as piercingly as if he wished to -drive the princess away by that scream... "Killed!" - -The princess did not fall down or faint. She was already pale, but -on hearing these words her face changed and something brightened in -her beautiful, radiant eyes. It was as if joy- a supreme joy apart -from the joys and sorrows of this world- overflowed the great grief -within her. She forgot all fear of her father, went up to him, took -his hand, and drawing him down put her arm round his thin, scraggy -neck. - -"Father" she said, "do not turn away from me, let us weep together." - -"Scoundrels! Blackguards!" shrieked the old man, turning his face -away from her. "Destroying the army, destroying the men! And why? -Go, go and tell Lise." - -The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father -and wept. She saw her brother now as he had been at the moment when he -took leave of her and of Lise, his look tender yet proud. She saw -him tender and amused as he was when he put on the little icon. "Did -he believe? Had he repented of his unbelief? Was he now there? There -in the realms of eternal peace and blessedness?" she thought. - -"Father, tell me how it happened," she asked through her tears. - -"Go! Go! Killed in battle, where the best of Russian men and -Russia's glory were led to destruction. Go, Princess Mary. Go and tell -Lise. I will follow." - -When Princess Mary returned from her father, the little princess sat -working and looked up with that curious expression of inner, happy -calm peculiar to pregnant women. It was evident that her eyes did -not see Princess Mary but were looking within... into herself... at -something joyful and mysterious taking place within her. - -"Mary," she said, moving away from the embroidery frame and lying -back, "give me your hand." She took her sister-in-law's hand and -held it below her waist. - -Her eyes were smiling expectantly, her downy lip rose and remained -lifted in childlike happiness. - -Princess Mary knelt down before her and hid her face in the folds of -her sister-in-law's dress. - -"There, there! Do you feel it? I feel so strange. And do you know, -Mary, I am going to love him very much," said Lise, looking with -bright and happy eyes at her sister-in-law. - -Princess Mary could not lift her head, she was weeping. - -"What is the matter, Mary?" - -"Nothing... only I feel sad... sad about Andrew," she said, wiping -away her tears on her sister-in-law's knee. - -Several times in the course of the morning Princess Mary began -trying to prepare her sister-in-law, and every time began to cry. -Unobservant as was the little princess, these tears, the cause of -which she did not understand, agitated her. She said nothing but -looked about uneasily as if in search of something. Before dinner -the old prince, of whom she was always afraid, came into her room with -a peculiarly restless and malign expression and went out again without -saying a word. She looked at Princess Mary, then sat thinking for a -while with that expression of attention to something within her that -is only seen in pregnant women, and suddenly began to cry. - -"Has anything come from Andrew?" she asked. - -"No, you know it's too soon for news. But my father is anxious and I -feel afraid." - -"So there's nothing?" - -"Nothing," answered Princess Mary, looking firmly with her radiant -eyes at her sister-in-law. - -She had determined not to tell her and persuaded her father to -hide the terrible news from her till after her confinement, which -was expected within a few days. Princess Mary and the old prince -each bore and hid their grief in their own way. The old prince would -not cherish any hope: he made up his mind that Prince Andrew had -been killed, and though he sent an official to Austria to seek for -traces of his son, he ordered a monument from Moscow which he intended -to erect in his own garden to his memory, and he told everybody that -his son had been killed. He tried not to change his former way of -life, but his strength failed him. He walked less, ate less, slept -less, and became weaker every day. Princess Mary hoped. She prayed for -her brother as living and was always awaiting news of his return. - -CHAPTER VIII - -"Dearest," said the little princess after breakfast on the morning -of the nineteenth March, and her downy little lip rose from old habit, -but as sorrow was manifest in every smile, the sound of every word, -and even every footstep in that house since the terrible news had -come, so now the smile of the little princess- influenced by the -general mood though without knowing its cause- was such as to remind -one still more of the general sorrow. - -"Dearest, I'm afraid this morning's fruschtique~{ Fruhstuck: breakfast. }~ as Foka the cook -calls it- has disagreed with me." - -"What is the matter with you, my darling? You look pale. Oh, you are -very pale!" said Princess Mary in alarm, running with her soft, -ponderous steps up to her sister-in-law. - -"Your excellency, should not Mary Bogdanovna be sent for?" said -one of the maids who was present. (Mary Bogdanovna was a midwife -from the neighboring town, who had been at Bald Hills for the last -fortnight.) - -"Oh yes," assented Princess Mary, "perhaps that's it. I'll go. -Courage, my angel." She kissed Lise and was about to leave the room. - -"Oh, no, no!" And besides the pallor and the physical suffering on -the little princess' face, an expression of childish fear of -inevitable pain showed itself. - -"No, it's only indigestion?... Say it's only indigestion, say so, -Mary! Say..." And the little princess began to cry capriciously like a -suffering child and to wring her little hands even with some -affectation. Princess Mary ran out of the room to fetch Mary -Bogdanovna. - -"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Oh!" she heard as she left the room. - -The midwife was already on her way to meet her, rubbing her small, -plump white hands with an air of calm importance. - -"Mary Bogdanovna, I think it's beginning!" said Princess Mary -looking at the midwife with wide-open eyes of alarm. - -"Well, the Lord be thanked, Princess," said Mary Bogdanovna, not -hastening her steps. "You young ladies should not know anything -about it." - -"But how is it the doctor from Moscow is not here yet?" said the -princess. (In accordance with Lise's and Prince Andrew's wishes they -had sent in good time to Moscow for a doctor and were expecting him at -any moment.) - -"No matter, Princess, don't be alarmed," said Mary Bogdanovna. -"We'll manage very well without a doctor." - -Five minutes later Princess Mary from her room heard something heavy -being carried by. She looked out. The men servants were carrying the -large leather sofa from Prince Andrew's study into the bedroom. On -their faces was a quiet and solemn look. - -Princess Mary sat alone in her room listening to the sounds in the -house, now and then opening her door when someone passed and -watching what was going on in the passage. Some women passing with -quiet steps in and out of the bedroom glanced at the princess and -turned away. She did not venture to ask any questions, and shut the -door again, now sitting down in her easy chair, now taking her -prayer book, now kneeling before the icon stand. To her surprise and -distress she found that her prayers did not calm her excitement. -Suddenly her door opened softly and her old nurse, Praskovya Savishna, -who hardly ever came to that room as the old prince had forbidden -it, appeared on the threshold with a shawl round her head. - -"I've come to sit with you a bit, Masha," said the nurse, "and -here I've brought the prince's wedding candles to light before his -saint, my angel," she said with a sigh. - -"Oh, nurse, I'm so glad!" - -"God is merciful, birdie." - -The nurse lit the gilt candles before the icons and sat down by -the door with her knitting. Princess Mary took a book and began -reading. Only when footsteps or voices were heard did they look at one -another, the princess anxious and inquiring, the nurse encouraging. -Everyone in the house was dominated by the same feeling that -Princess Mary experienced as she sat in her room. But owing to the -superstition that the fewer the people who know of it the less a woman -in travail suffers, everyone tried to pretend not to know; no one -spoke of it, but apart from the ordinary staid and respectful good -manners habitual in the prince's household, a common anxiety, a -softening of the heart, and a consciousness that something great and -mysterious was being accomplished at that moment made itself felt. - -There was no laughter in the maids' large hall. In the men servants' -hall all sat waiting, silently and alert. In the outlying serfs' -quarters torches and candles were burning and no one slept. The old -prince, stepping on his heels, paced up and down his study and sent -Tikhon to ask Mary Bogdanovna what news.- "Say only that 'the prince -told me to ask,' and come and tell me her answer." - -"Inform the prince that labor has begun," said Mary Bogdanovna, -giving the messenger a significant look. - -Tikhon went and told the prince. - -"Very good!" said the prince closing the door behind him, and Tikhon -did not hear the slightest sound from the study after that. - -After a while he re-entered it as if to snuff the candles, and, -seeing the prince was lying on the sofa, looked at him, noticed his -perturbed face, shook his head, and going up to him silently kissed -him on the shoulder and left the room without snuffing the candles -or saying why he had entered. The most solemn mystery in the world -continued its course. Evening passed, night came, and the feeling of -suspense and softening of heart in the presence of the unfathomable -did not lessen but increased. No one slept. - -It was one of those March nights when winter seems to wish to resume -its sway and scatters its last snows and storms with desperate fury. A -relay of horses had been sent up the highroad to meet the German -doctor from Moscow who was expected every moment, and men on horseback -with lanterns were sent to the crossroads to guide him over the -country road with its hollows and snow-covered pools of water. - -Princess Mary had long since put aside her book: she sat silent, her -luminous eyes fixed on her nurse's wrinkled face (every line of -which she knew so well), on the lock of gray hair that escaped from -under the kerchief, and the loose skin that hung under her chin. - -Nurse Savishna, knitting in hand, was telling in low tones, scarcely -hearing or understanding her own words, what she had told hundreds -of times before: how the late princess had given birth to Princess -Mary in Kishenev with only a Moldavian peasant woman to help instead -of a midwife. - -"God is merciful, doctors are never needed," she said. - -Suddenly a gust of wind beat violently against the casement of the -window, from which the double frame had been removed (by order of -the prince, one window frame was removed in each room as soon as the -larks returned), and, forcing open a loosely closed latch, set the -damask curtain flapping and blew out the candle with its chill, -snowy draft. Princess Mary shuddered; her nurse, putting down the -stocking she was knitting, went to the window and leaning out tried to -catch the open casement. The cold wind flapped the ends of her -kerchief and her loose locks of gray hair. - -"Princess, my dear, there's someone driving up the avenue! " she -said, holding the casement and not closing it. "With lanterns. Most -likely the doctor." - -"Oh, my God! thank God!" said Princess Mary. "I must go and meet -him, he does not know Russian." - -Princess Mary threw a shawl over her head and ran to meet the -newcomer. As she was crossing the anteroom she saw through the -window a carriage with lanterns, standing at the entrance. She went -out on the stairs. On a banister post stood a tallow candle which -guttered in the draft. On the landing below, Philip, the footman, -stood looking scared and holding another candle. Still lower, beyond -the turn of the staircase, one could hear the footstep of someone in -thick felt boots, and a voice that seemed familiar to Princess Mary -was saying something. - -"Thank God!" said the voice. "And Father?" - -"Gone to bed," replied the voice of Demyan the house steward, who -was downstairs. - -Then the voice said something more, Demyan replied, and the steps in -the felt boots approached the unseen bend of the staircase more -rapidly. - -"It's Andrew!" thought Princess Mary. "No it can't be, that would be -too extraordinary," and at the very moment she thought this, the -face and figure of Prince Andrew, in a fur cloak the deep collar of -which covered with snow, appeared on the landing where the footman -stood with the candle. Yes, it was he, pale, thin, with a changed -and strangely softened but agitated expression on his face. He came up -the stairs and embraced his sister. - -"You did not get my letter?" he asked, and not waiting for a -reply- which he would not have received, for the princess was unable -to speak- he turned back, rapidly mounted the stairs again with the -doctor who had entered the hall after him (they had met at the last -post station), and again embraced his sister. - -"What a strange fate, Masha darling!" And having taken off his cloak -and felt boots, he went to the little princess' apartment. - -CHAPTER IX - -The little princess lay supported by pillows, with a white cap on -her head (the pains had just left her). Strands of her black hair -lay round her inflamed and perspiring cheeks, her charming rosy -mouth with its downy lip was open and she was smiling joyfully. Prince -Andrew entered and paused facing her at the foot of the sofa on -which she was lying. Her glittering eyes, filled with childlike fear -and excitement, rested on him without changing their expression. "I -love you all and have done no harm to anyone; why must I suffer so? -Help me!" her look seemed to say. She saw her husband, but did not -realize the significance of his appearance before her now. Prince -Andrew went round the sofa and kissed her forehead. - -"My darling!" he said- a word he had never used to her before. -"God is merciful...." - -She looked at him inquiringly and with childlike reproach. - -"I expected help from you and I get none, none from you either!" -said her eyes. She was not surprised at his having come; she did not -realize that he had come. His coming had nothing to do with her -sufferings or with their relief. The pangs began again and Mary -Bogdanovna advised Prince Andrew to leave the room. - -The doctor entered. Prince Andrew went out and, meeting Princess -Mary, again joined her. They began talking in whispers, but their talk -broke off at every moment. They waited and listened. - -"Go, dear," said Princess Mary. - -Prince Andrew went again to his wife and sat waiting in the room -next to hers. A woman came from the bedroom with a frightened face and -became confused when she saw Prince Andrew. He covered his face with -his hands and remained so for some minutes. Piteous, helpless, -animal moans came through the door. Prince Andrew got up, went to -the door, and tried to open it. Someone was holding it shut. - -"You can't come in! You can't!" said a terrified voice from within. - -He began pacing the room. The screaming ceased, and a few more -seconds went by. Then suddenly a terrible shriek- it could not be -hers, she could not scream like that- came from the bedroom. Prince -Andrew ran to the door; the scream ceased and he heard the wail of -an infant. - -"What have they taken a baby in there for?" thought Prince Andrew in -the first second. "A baby? What baby...? Why is there a baby there? Or -is the baby born?" - -Then suddenly he realized the joyful significance of that wail; -tears choked him, and leaning his elbows on the window sill be began -to cry, sobbing like a child. The door opened. The doctor with his -shirt sleeves tucked up, without a coat, pale and with a trembling -jaw, came out of the room. Prince Andrew turned to him, but the doctor -gave him a bewildered look and passed by without a word. A woman -rushed out and seeing Prince Andrew stopped, hesitating on the -threshold. He went into his wife's room. She was lying dead, in the -same position he had seen her in five minutes before and, despite -the fixed eyes and the pallor of the cheeks, the same expression was -on her charming childlike face with its upper lip covered with tiny -black hair. - -"I love you all, and have done no harm to anyone; and what have -you done to me?"- said her charming, pathetic, dead face. - -In a corner of the room something red and tiny gave a grunt and -squealed in Mary Bogdanovna's trembling white hands. - -Two hours later Prince Andrew, stepping softly, went into his -father's room. The old man already knew everything. He was standing -close to the door and as soon as it opened his rough old arms closed -like a vise round his son's neck, and without a word he began to sob -like a child. - -Three days later the little princess was buried, and Prince Andrew -went up the steps to where the coffin stood, to give her the -farewell kiss. And there in the coffin was the same face, though -with closed eyes. "Ah, what have you done to me?" it still seemed to -say, and Prince Andrew felt that something gave way in his soul and -that he was guilty of a sin he could neither remedy nor forget. He -could not weep. The old man too came up and kissed the waxen little -hands that lay quietly crossed one on the other on her breast, and -to him, too, her face seemed to say: "Ah, what have you done to me, -and why?" And at the sight the old man turned angrily away. - -Another five days passed, and then the young Prince Nicholas -Andreevich was baptized. The wet nurse supported the coverlet with her -while the priest with a goose feather anointed the boy's little red -and wrinkled soles and palms. - -His grandfather, who was his godfather, trembling and afraid of -dropping him, carried the infant round the battered tin font and -handed him over to the godmother, Princess Mary. Prince Andrew sat -in another room, faint with fear lest the baby should be drowned in -the font, and awaited the termination of the ceremony. He looked up -joyfully at the baby when the nurse brought it to him and nodded -approval when she told him that the wax with the baby's hair had not -sunk in the font but had floated. - -CHAPTER X - -Rostov's share in Dolokhov's duel with Bezukhov was hushed up by the -efforts of the old count, and instead of being degraded to the ranks -as he expected he was appointed an adjutant to the governor general of -Moscow. As a result he could not go to the country with the rest of -the family, but was kept all summer in Moscow by his new duties. -Dolokhov recovered, and Rostov became very friendly with him during -his convalescence. Dolokhov lay ill at his mother's who loved him -passionately and tenderly, and old Mary Ivanovna, who had grown fond -of Rostov for his friendship to her Fedya, often talked to him about -her son. - -"Yes, Count," she would say, "he is too noble and pure-souled for -our present, depraved world. No one now loves virtue; it seems like -a reproach to everyone. Now tell me, Count, was it right, was it -honorable, of Bezukhov? And Fedya, with his noble spirit, loved him -and even now never says a word against him. Those pranks in Petersburg -when they played some tricks on a policeman, didn't they do it -together? And there! Bezukhov got off scotfree, while Fedya had to -bear the whole burden on his shoulders. Fancy what he had to go -through! It's true he has been reinstated, but how could they fail -to do that? I think there were not many such gallant sons of the -fatherland out there as he. And now- this duel! Have these people no -feeling, or honor? Knowing him to be an only son, to challenge him and -shoot so straight! It's well God had mercy on us. And what was it for? -Who doesn't have intrigues nowadays? Why, if he was so jealous, as I -see things he should have shown it sooner, but he lets it go on for -months. And then to call him out, reckoning on Fedya not fighting -because he owed him money! What baseness! What meanness! I know you -understand Fedya, my dear count; that, believe me, is why I am so fond -of you. Few people do understand him. He is such a lofty, heavenly -soul!" - -Dolokhov himself during his convalescence spoke to Rostov in a way -no one would have expected of him. - -"I know people consider me a bad man!" he said. "Let them! I don't -care a straw about anyone but those I love; but those I love, I love -so that I would give my life for them, and the others I'd throttle -if they stood in my way. I have an adored, a priceless mother, and two -or three friends- you among them- and as for the rest I only care -about them in so far as they are harmful or useful. And most of them -are harmful, especially the women. Yes, dear boy," he continued, "I -have met loving, noble, high-minded men, but I have not yet met any -women- countesses or cooks- who were not venal. I have not yet met -that divine purity and devotion I look for in women. If I found such a -one I'd give my life for her! But those!... and he made a gesture of -contempt. "And believe me, if I still value my life it is only because -I still hope to meet such a divine creature, who will regenerate, -purify, and elevate me. But you don't understand it." - -"Oh, yes, I quite understand, "answered Rostov, who was under his -new friend's influence. - -In the autumn the Rostovs returned to Moscow. Early in the winter -Denisov also came back and stayed with them. The first half of the -winter of 1806, which Nicholas Rostov spent in Moscow, was one of -the happiest, merriest times for him and the whole family. Nicholas -brought many young men to his parents' house. Vera was a handsome girl -of twenty; Sonya a girl of sixteen with all the charm of an opening -flower; Natasha, half grown up and half child, was now childishly -amusing, now girlishly enchanting. - -At that time in the Rostovs' house there prevailed an amorous -atmosphere characteristic of homes where there are very young and very -charming girls. Every young man who came to the house- seeing those -impressionable, smiling young faces (smiling probably at their own -happiness), feeling the eager bustle around him, and hearing the -fitful bursts of song and music and the inconsequent but friendly -prattle of young girls ready for anything and full of hope- -experienced the same feeling; sharing with the young folk of the -Rostovs' household a readiness to fall in love and an expectation of -happiness. - -Among the young men introduced by Rostov one of the first was -Dolokhov, whom everyone in the house liked except Natasha. She -almost quarreled with her brother about him. She insisted that he -was a bad man, and that in the duel with Bezukhov, Pierre was right -and Dolokhov wrong, and further that he was disagreeable and -unnatural. - -"There's nothing for me to understand," cried out with resolute -self-will, "he is wicked and heartless. There now, I like your Denisov -though he is a rake and all that, still I like him; so you see I do -understand. I don't know how to put it... with this one everything -is calculated, and I don't like that. But Denisov..." - -"Oh, Denisov is quite different," replied Nicholas, implying that -even Denisov was nothing compared to Dolokhov- "you must understand -what a soul there is in Dolokhov, you should see him with his -mother. What a heart!" - -"Well, I don't know about that, but I am uncomfortable with him. And -do you know he has fallen in love with Sonya?" - -"What nonsense..." - -"I'm certain of it; you'll see." - -Natasha's prediction proved true. Dolokhov, who did not usually care -for the society of ladies, began to come often to the house, and the -question for whose sake he came (though no one spoke of it) was soon -settled. He came because of Sonya. And Sonya, though she would never -have dared to say so, knew it and blushed scarlet every time -Dolokhov appeared. - -Dolokhov often dined at the Rostovs', never missed a performance -at which they were present, and went to Iogel's balls for young people -which the Rostovs always attended. He was pointedly attentive to Sonya -and looked at her in such a way that not only could she not bear his -glances without coloring, but even the old countess and Natasha -blushed when they saw his looks. - -It was evident that this strange, strong man was under the -irresistible influence of the dark, graceful girl who loved another. - -Rostov noticed something new in Dolokhov's relations with Sonya, but -he did not explain to himself what these new relations were. -"They're always in love with someone," he thought of Sonya and -Natasha. But he was not as much at ease with Sonya and Dolokhov as -before and was less frequently at home. - -In the autumn of 1806 everybody had again begun talking of the war -with Napoleon with even greater warmth than the year before. Orders -were given to raise recruits, ten men in every thousand for the -regular army, and besides this, nine men in every thousand for the -militia. Everywhere Bonaparte was anathematized and in Moscow -nothing but the coming war was talked of. For the Rostov family the -whole interest of these preparations for war lay in the fact that -Nicholas would not hear of remaining in Moscow, and only awaited the -termination of Denisov's furlough after Christmas to return with him -to their regiment. His approaching departure did not prevent his -amusing himself, but rather gave zest to his pleasures. He spent the -greater part of his time away from home, at dinners, parties, and -balls. - -CHAPTER XI - -On the third day after Christmas Nicholas dined at home, a thing -he had rarely done of late. It was a grand farewell dinner, as he -and Denisov were leaving to join their regiment after Epiphany. -About twenty people were present, including Dolokhov and Denisov. - -Never had love been so much in the air, and never had the amorous -atmosphere made itself so strongly felt in the Rostovs' house as at -this holiday time. "Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! -That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the -one thing we are interested in here," said the spirit of the place. - -Nicholas, having as usual exhausted two pairs of horses, without -visiting all the places he meant to go to and where he had been -invited, returned home just before dinner. As soon as he entered he -noticed and felt the tension of the amorous air in the house, and also -noticed a curious embarrassment among some of those present. Sonya, -Dolokhov, and the old countess were especially disturbed, and to a -lesser degree Natasha. Nicholas understood that something must have -happened between Sonya and Dolokhov before dinner, and with the kindly -sensitiveness natural to him was very gentle and wary with them both -at dinner. On that same evening there was to be one of the balls -that Iogel (the dancing master) gave for his pupils durings the -holidays. - -"Nicholas, will you come to Iogel's? Please do!" said Natasha. "He -asked you, and Vasili Dmitrich~{ Denisov. }~ is also going." - -"Where would I not go at the countess' command!" said Denisov, who -at the Rostovs' had jocularly assumed the role of Natasha's knight. -"I'm even weady to dance the pas de chale." - -"If I have time," answered Nicholas. "But I promised the -Arkharovs; they have a party." - -"And you?" he asked Dolokhov, but as soon as he had asked the -question he noticed that it should not have been put. - -"Perhaps," coldly and angrily replied Dolokhov, glancing at Sonya, -and, scowling, he gave Nicholas just such a look as he had given -Pierre at the Club dinner. - -"There is something up," thought Nicholas, and he was further -confirmed in this conclusion by the fact that Dolokhov left -immediately after dinner. He called Natasha and asked her what was the -matter. - -"And I was looking for you," said Natasha running out to him. "I -told you, but you would not believe it," she said triumphantly. "He -has proposed to Sonya!" - -Little as Nicholas had occupied himself with Sonya of late, -something seemed to give way within him at this news. Dolokhov was a -suitable and in some respects a brilliant match for the dowerless, -orphan girl. From the point of view of the old countess and of society -it was out of the question for her to refuse him. And therefore -Nicholas' first feeling on hearing the news was one of anger with -Sonya.... He tried to say, "That's capital; of course she'll forget -her childish promises and accept the offer," but before he had time to -say it Natasha began again. - -"And fancy! she refused him quite definitely!" adding, after a -pause, "she told him she loved another." - -"Yes, my Sonya could not have done otherwise!" thought Nicholas. - -"Much as Mamma pressed her, she refused, and I know she won't change -once she has said..." - -"And Mamma pressed her!" said Nicholas reproachfully. - -"Yes," said Natasha. "Do you know, Nicholas- don't be angry- but I -know you will not marry her. I know, heaven knows how, but I know -for certain that you won't marry her." - -"Now don't know that at all!" said Nicholas. "But I must talk to -her. What a darling Sonya is!" he added with a smile. - -"Ah, she is indeed a darling! I'll send her to you." - -And Natasha kissed her brother and ran away. - -A minute later Sonya came in with a frightened, guilty, and scared -look. Nicholas went up to her and kissed her hand. This was the -first time since his return that they had talked alone and about their -love. - -"Sophie," he began, timidly at first and then more and more -boldly, "if you wish to refuse one who is not only a brilliant and -advantageous match but a splendid, noble fellow... he is my friend..." - -Sonya interrupted him. - -"I have already refused," she said hurriedly. - -"If you are refusing for my sake, I am afraid that I..." - -Sonya again interrupted. She gave him an imploring, frightened look. - -"Nicholas, don't tell me that!" she said. - -"No, but I must. It may be arrogant of me, but still it is best to -say it. If you refuse him on my account, I must tell you the whole -truth. I love you, and I think I love you more than anyone else...." - -"That is enough for me," said Sonya, blushing. - -"No, but I have been in love a thousand times and shall fall in love -again, though for no one have I such a feeling of friendship, -confidence, and love as I have for you. Then I am young. Mamma does -not wish it. In a word, I make no promise. And I beg you to consider -Dolokhov's offer," he said, articulating his friend's name with -difficulty. - -"Don't say that to me! I want nothing. I love you as a brother and -always shall, and I want nothing more." - -"You are an angel: I am not worthy of you, but I am afraid of -misleading you." - -And Nicholas again kissed her hand. - -CHAPTER XII - -Iogel's were the most enjoyable balls in Moscow. So said the mothers -as they watched their young people executing their newly learned -steps, and so said the youths and maidens themselves as they danced -till they were ready to drop, and so said the grown-up young men and -women who came to these balls with an air of condescension and found -them most enjoyable. That year two marriages had come of these -balls. The two pretty young Princesses Gorchakov met suitors there and -were married and so further increased the fame of these dances. What -distinguished them from others was the absence of host or hostess -and the presence of the good-natured Iogel, flying about like a -feather and bowing according to the rules of his art, as he -collected the tickets from all his visitors. There was the fact that -only those came who wished to dance and amuse themselves as girls of -thirteen and fourteen do who are wearing long dresses for the first -time. With scarcely any exceptions they all were, or seemed to be, -pretty- so rapturous were their smiles and so sparkling their eyes. -Sometimes the best of the pupils, of whom Natasha, who was -exceptionally graceful, was first, even danced the pas de chale, but -at this last ball only the ecossaise, the anglaise, and the mazurka, -which was just coming into fashion, were danced. Iogel had taken a -ballroom in Bezukhov's house, and the ball, as everyone said, was a -great success. There were many pretty girls and the Rostov girls -were among the prettiest. They were both particularly happy and gay. -That evening, proud of Dolokhov's proposal, her refusal, and her -explanation with Nicholas, Sonya twirled about before she left home so -that the maid could hardly get her hair plaited, and she was -transparently radiant with impulsive joy. - -Natasha no less proud of her first long dress and of being at a real -ball was even happier. They were both dressed in white muslin with -pink ribbons. - -Natasha fell in love the very moment she entered the ballroom. She -was not in love with anyone in particular, but with everyone. Whatever -person she happened to look at she was in love with for that moment. - -"Oh, how delightful it is!" she kept saying, running up to Sonya. - -Nicholas and Denisov were walking up and down, looking with kindly -patronage at the dancers. - -"How sweet she is- she will be a weal beauty!" said Denisov. - -"Who?" - -"Countess Natasha," answered Denisov. - -"And how she dances! What gwace!" he said again after a pause. - -"Who are you talking about?" - -"About your sister," ejaculated Denisov testily. - -Rostov smiled. - -"My dear count, you were one of my best pupils- you must dance," -said little Iogel coming up to Nicholas. "Look how many charming young -ladies-" He turned with the same request to Denisov who was also a -former pupil of his. - -"No, my dear fellow, I'll be a wallflower," said Denisov. "Don't you -wecollect what bad use I made of your lessons?" - -"Oh no!" said Iogel, hastening to reassure him. "You were only -inattentive, but you had talent- oh yes, you had talent!" - -The band struck up the newly introduced mazurka. Nicholas could not -refuse Iogel and asked Sonya to dance. Denisov sat down by the old -ladies and, leaning on his saber and beating time with his foot, -told them something funny and kept them amused, while he watched the -young people dancing, Iogel with Natasha, his pride and his best -pupil, were the first couple. Noiselessly, skillfully stepping with -his little feet in low shoes, Iogel flew first across the hall with -Natasha, who, though shy, went on carefully executing her steps. -Denisov did not take his eyes off her and beat time with his saber -in a way that clearly indicated that if he was not dancing it was -because he would not and not because he could not. In the middle of -a figure he beckoned to Rostov who was passing: - -"This is not at all the thing," he said. "What sort of Polish -mazuwka is this? But she does dance splendidly." - -Knowing that Denisov had a reputation even in Poland for the -masterly way in which he danced the mazurka, Nicholas ran up to -Natasha: - -"Go and choose Denisov. He is a real dancer, a wonder!" he said. - -When it came to Natasha's turn to choose a partner, she rose and, -tripping rapidly across in her little shoes trimmed with bows, ran -timidly to the corner where Denisov sat. She saw that everybody was -looking at her and waiting. Nicholas saw that Denisov was refusing -though he smiled delightedly. He ran up to them. - -"Please, Vasili Dmitrich," Natasha was saying, "do come!" - -"Oh no, let me off, Countess," Denisov replied. - -"Now then, Vaska," said Nicholas. - -"They coax me as if I were Vaska the cat!" said Denisov jokingly. - -"I'll sing for you a whole evening," said Natasha. - -"Oh, the faiwy! She can do anything with me!" said Denisov, and he -unhooked his saber. He came out from behind the chairs, clasped his -partner's hand firmly, threw back his head, and advanced his foot, -waiting for the beat. Only on horse back and in the mazurka was -Denisov's short stature not noticeable and he looked the fine fellow -he felt himself to be. At the right beat of the music he looked -sideways at his partner with a merry and triumphant air, suddenly -stamped with one foot, bounded from the floor like a ball, and flew -round the room taking his partner with him. He glided silently on -one foot half across the room, and seeming not to notice the chairs -was dashing straight at them, when suddenly, clinking his spurs and -spreading out his legs, he stopped short on his heels, stood so a -second, stamped on the spot clanking his spurs, whirled rapidly round, -and, striking his left heel against his right, flew round again in a -circle. Natasha guessed what he meant to do, and abandoning herself to -him followed his lead hardly knowing how. First he spun her round, -holding her now with his left, now with his right hand, then falling -on one knee he twirled her round him, and again jumping up, dashed -so impetuously forward that it seemed as if he would rush through -the whole suite of rooms without drawing breath, and then he -suddenly stopped and performed some new and unexpected steps. When -at last, smartly whirling his partner round in front of her chair, -he drew up with a click of his spurs and bowed to her, Natasha did not -even make him a curtsy. She fixed her eyes on him in amazement, -smiling as if she did not recognize him. - -"What does this mean?" she brought out. - -Although Iogel did not acknowledge this to be the real mazurka, -everyone was delighted with Denisov's skill, he was asked again and -again as a partner, and the old men began smilingly to talk about -Poland and the good old days. Denisov, flushed after the mazurka and -mopping himself with his handkerchief, sat down by Natasha and did not -leave her for the rest of the evening. - -CHAPTER XIII - -For two days after that Rostov did not see Dolokhov at his own or at -Dolokhov's home: on the third day he received a note from him: - -As I do not intend to be at your house again for reasons you know -of, and am going to rejoin my regiment, I am giving a farewell -supper tonight to my friends- come to the English Hotel. - -About ten o'clock Rostov went to the English Hotel straight from the -theater, where he had been with his family and Denisov. He was at once -shown to the best room, which Dolokhov had taken for that evening. -Some twenty men were gathered round a table at which Dolokhov sat -between two candles. On the table was a pile of gold and paper -money, and he was keeping the bank. Rostov had not seen him since -his proposal and Sonya's refusal and felt uncomfortable at the thought -of how they would meet. - -Dolokhov's clear, cold glance met Rostov as soon as he entered the -door, as though he had long expected him. - -"It's a long time since we met," he said. "Thanks for coming. I'll -just finish dealing, and then Ilyushka will come with his chorus." - -"I called once or twice at your house," said Rostov, reddening. - -Dolokhov made no reply. - -"You may punt," he said. - -Rostov recalled at that moment a strange conversation he had once -had with Dolokhov. "None but fools trust to luck in play," Dolokhov -had then said. - -"Or are you afraid to play with me?" Dolokhov now asked as if -guessing Rostov's thought. - -Beneath his smile Rostov saw in him the mood he had shown at the -Club dinner and at other times, when as if tired of everyday life he -had felt a need to escape from it by some strange, and usually -cruel, action. - -Rostov felt ill at ease. He tried, but failed, to find some joke -with which to reply to Dolokhov's words. But before he had thought -of anything, Dolokhov, looking straight in his face, said slowly and -deliberately so that everyone could hear: - -"Do you remember we had a talk about cards... 'He's a fool who -trusts to luck, one should make certain,' and I want to try." - -"To try his luck or the certainty?" Rostov asked himself. - -"Well, you'd better not play," Dolokhov added, and springing a new -pack of cards said: "Bank, gentlemen!" - -Moving the money forward he prepared to deal. Rostov sat down by his -side and at first did not play. Dolokhov kept glancing at him. - -"Why don't you play?" he asked. - -And strange to say Nicholas felt that he could not help taking up -a card, putting a small stake on it, and beginning to play. - -"I have no money with me," he said. - -"I'll trust you." - -Rostov staked five rubles on a card and lost, staked again, and -again lost. Dolokhov "killed," that is, beat, ten cards of Rostov's -running. - -"Gentlemen," said Dolokhov after he had dealt for some time. "Please -place your money on the cards or I may get muddled in the reckoning." - -One of the players said he hoped he might be trusted. - -"Yes, you might, but I am afraid of getting the accounts mixed. So I -ask you to put the money on your cards," replied Dolokhov. "Don't -stint yourself, we'll settle afterwards," he added, turning to Rostov. - -The game continued; a waiter kept handing round champagne. - -All Rostov's cards were beaten and he had eight hundred rubles -scored up against him. He wrote "800 rubles" on a card, but while -the waiter filled his glass he changed his mind and altered it to -his usual stake of twenty rubles. - -"Leave it," said Dolokhov, though he did not seem to be even looking -at Rostov, "you'll win it back all the sooner. I lose to the others -but win from you. Or are you afraid of me?" he asked again. - -Rostov submitted. He let the eight hundred remain and laid down a -seven of hearts with a torn corner, which he had picked up from the -floor. He well remembered that seven afterwards. He laid down the -seven of hearts, on which with a broken bit of chalk he had written -"800 rubles" in clear upright figures; he emptied the glass of warm -champagne that was handed him, smiled at Dolokhov's words, and with -a sinking heart, waiting for a seven to turn up, gazed at Dolokhov's -hands which held the pack. Much depended on Rostov's winning or losing -on that seven of hearts. On the previous Sunday the old count had -given his son two thousand rubles, and though he always disliked -speaking of money difficulties had told Nicholas that this was all -he could let him have till May, and asked him to be more economical -this time. Nicholas had replied that it would be more than enough -for him and that he gave his word of honor not to take anything more -till the spring. Now only twelve hundred rubles was left of that -money, so that this seven of hearts meant for him not only the loss of -sixteen hundred rubles, but the necessity of going back on his word. -With a sinking heart he watched Dolokhov's hands and thought, "Now -then, make haste and let me have this card and I'll take my cap and -drive home to supper with Denisov, Natasha, and Sonya, and will -certainly never touch a card again." At that moment his home life, -jokes with Petya, talks with Sonya, duets with Natasha, piquet with -his father, and even his comfortable bed in the house on the -Povarskaya rose before him with such vividness, clearness, and charm -that it seemed as if it were all a lost and unappreciated bliss, -long past. He could not conceive that a stupid chance, letting the -seven be dealt to the right rather than to the left, might deprive him -of all this happiness, newly appreciated and newly illumined, and -plunge him into the depths of unknown and undefined misery. That could -not be, yet he awaited with a sinking heart the movement of Dolokhov's -hands. Those broad, reddish hands, with hairy wrists visible from -under the shirt cuffs, laid down the pack and took up a glass and a -pipe that were handed him. - -"So you are not afraid to play with me?" repeated Dolokhov, and as -if about to tell a good story he put down the cards, leaned back in -his chair, and began deliberately with a smile: - -"Yes, gentlemen, I've been told there's a rumor going about Moscow -that I'm a sharper, so I advise you to be careful." - -"Come now, deal!" exclaimed Rostov. - -"Oh, those Moscow gossips!" said Dolokhov, and he took up the -cards with a smile. - -"Aah!" Rostov almost screamed lifting both hands to his head. The -seven he needed was lying uppermost, the first card in the pack. He -had lost more than he could pay. - -"Still, don't ruin yourself!" said Dolokhov with a side glance at -Rostov as he continued to deal. - -CHAPTER XIV - -An hour and a half later most of the players were but little -interested in their own play. - -The whole interest was concentrated on Rostov. Instead of sixteen -hundred rubles he had a long column of figures scored against him, -which he had reckoned up to ten thousand, but that now, as he -vaguely supposed, must have risen to fifteen thousand. In reality it -already exceeded twenty thousand rubles. Dolokhov was no longer -listening to stories or telling them, but followed every movement of -Rostov's hands and occasionally ran his eyes over the score against -him. He had decided to play until that score reached forty-three -thousand. He had fixed on that number because forty-three was the -sum of his and Sonya's joint ages. Rostov, leaning his head on both -hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with -spilled wine, and littered with cards. One tormenting impression did -not leave him: that those broad-boned reddish hands with hairy -wrists visible from under the shirt sleeves, those hands which he -loved and hated, held him in their power. - -"Six hundred rubles, ace, a corner, a nine... winning it back's -impossible... Oh, how pleasant it was at home!... The knave, double or -quits... it can't be!... And why is he doing this to me?" Rostov -pondered. Sometimes he staked a large sum, but Dolokhov refused to -accept it and fixed the stake himself. Nicholas submitted to him, -and at one moment prayed to God as he had done on the battlefield at -the bridge over the Enns, and then guessed that the card that came -first to hand from the crumpled heap under the table would save him, -now counted the cords on his coat and took a card with that number and -tried staking the total of his losses on it, then he looked round -for aid from the other players, or peered at the now cold face of -Dolokhov and tried to read what was passing in his mind. - -"He knows of course what this loss means to me. He can't want my -ruin. Wasn't he my friend? Wasn't I fond of him? But it's not his -fault. What's he to do if he has such luck?... And it's not my fault -either," he thought to himself, "I have done nothing wrong. Have I -killed anyone, or insulted or wished harm to anyone? Why such a -terrible misfortune? And when did it begin? Such a little while ago -I came to this table with the thought of winning a hundred rubles to -buy that casket for Mamma's name day and then going home. I was so -happy, so free, so lighthearted! And I did not realize how happy I -was! When did that end and when did this new, terrible state of things -begin? What marked the change? I sat all the time in this same place -at this table, chose and placed cards, and watched those broad-boned -agile hands in the same way. When did it happen and what has happened? -I am well and strong and still the same and in the same place. No, -it can't be! Surely it will all end in nothing!" - -He was flushed and bathed in perspiration, though the room was not -hot. His face was terrible and piteous to see, especially from its -helpless efforts to seem calm. - -The score against him reached the fateful sum of forty-three -thousand. Rostov had just prepared a card, by bending the corner of -which he meant to double the three thousand just put down to his -score, when Dolokhov, slamming down the pack of cards, put it aside -and began rapidly adding up the total of Rostov's debt, breaking the -chalk as he marked the figures in his clear, bold hand. - -"Supper, it's time for supper! And here are the gypsies!" - -Some swarthy men and women were really entering from the cold -outside and saying something in their gypsy accents. Nicholas -understood that it was all over; but he said in an indifferent tone: - -"Well, won't you go on? I had a splendid card all ready," as if it -were the fun of the game which interested him most. - -"It's all up! I'm lost!" thought he. "Now a bullet through my brain- -that's all that's left me! " And at the same time he said in a -cheerful voice: - -"Come now, just this one more little card!" - -"All right!" said Dolokhov, having finished the addition. "All -right! Twenty-one rubles," he said, pointing to the figure -twenty-one by which the total exceeded the round sum of forty-three -thousand; and taking up a pack he prepared to deal. Rostov -submissively unbent the corner of his card and, instead of the six -thousand he had intended, carefully wrote twenty-one. - -"It's all the same to me," he said. "I only want to see whether -you will let me win this ten, or beat it." - -Dolokhov began to deal seriously. Oh, how Rostov detested at that -moment those hands with their short reddish fingers and hairy -wrists, which held him in their power.... The ten fell to him. - -"You owe forty-three thousand, Count," said Dolokhov, and stretching -himself he rose from the table. "One does get tired sitting so -long," he added. - -"Yes, I'm tired too," said Rostov. - -Dolokhov cut him short, as if to remind him that it was not for -him to jest. - -"When am I to receive the money, Count?" - -Rostov, flushing, drew Dolokhov into the next room. - -"I cannot pay it all immediately. Will you take an I.O.U.?" he said. - -"I say, Rostov," said Dolokhov clearly, smiling and looking Nicholas -straight in the eyes, "you know the saying, 'Lucky in love, unlucky at -cards.' Your cousin is in love with you, I know." - -"Oh, it's terrible to feel oneself so in this man's power," -thought Rostov. He knew what a shock he would inflict on his father -and mother by the news of this loss, he knew what a relief it would be -to escape it all, and felt that Dolokhov knew that he could save him -from all this shame and sorrow, but wanted now to play with him as a -cat does with a mouse. - -"Your cousin..." Dolokhov started to say, but Nicholas interrupted -him. - -"My cousin has nothing to do with this and it's not necessary to -mention her!" he exclaimed fiercely. - -"Then when am I to have it?" - -"Tomorrow," replied Rostov and left the room. - -CHAPTER XV - -To say "tomorrow" and keep up a dignified tone was not difficult, -but to go home alone, see his sisters, brother, mother, and father, -confess and ask for money he had no right to after giving his word -of honor, was terrible. - -At home, they had not yet gone to bed. The young people, after -returning from the theater, had had supper and were grouped round -the clavichord. As soon as Nicholas entered, he was enfolded in that -poetic atmosphere of love which pervaded the Rostov household that -winter and, now after Dolokhov's proposal and Iogel's ball, seemed -to have grown thicker round Sonya and Natasha as the air does before a -thunderstorm. Sonya and Natasha, in the light-blue dresses they had -worn at the theater, looking pretty and conscious of it, were standing -by the clavichord, happy and smiling. Vera was playing chess with -Shinshin in the drawing room. The old countess, waiting for the return -of her husband and son, sat playing patience with the old -gentlewoman who lived in their house. Denisov, with sparkling eyes and -ruffled hair, sat at the clavichord striking chords with his short -fingers, his legs thrown back and his eyes rolling as he sang, with -his small, husky, but true voice, some verses called "Enchantress," -which he had composed, and to which he was trying to fit music: - -``` block - Enchantress, say, to my forsaken lyre -What magic power is this recalls me still? -What spark has set my inmost soul on fire, -What is this bliss that makes my fingers thrill? -``` - -He was singing in passionate tones, gazing with gazing with his -sparkling black-agate eyes at the frightened and happy Natasha. - -"Splendid! Excellent!" exclaimed Natasha. "Another verse, she -said, without noticing Nicholas. - -"Everything's still the same with them," thought Nicholas, -glancing into the drawing room, where he saw Vera and his mother -with the old lady. - -"Ah, and here's Nicholas!" cried Natasha, running up to him. - -"Is Papa at home?" he asked. - -"I am so glad you've come!" said Natasha, without answering him. "We -are enjoying ourselves! Vasili Dmitrich is staying a day longer for my -sake! Did you know?" - -"No, Papa is not back yet," said Sonya. - -"Nicholas, have you come? Come here, dear!" called the old -countess from the drawing room. - -Nicholas went to her, kissed her hand, and sitting down silently -at her table began to watch her hands arranging the cards. From the -dancing room, they still heard the laughter and merry voices trying to -persuade Natasha to sing. - -"All wight! All wight!" shouted Denisov. "It's no good making -excuses now! It's your turn to sing the ba'cawolla- I entweat you!" - -The countess glanced at her silent son. - -"What is the matter?" she asked. - -"Oh, nothing," said he, as if weary of being continually asked the -same question. "Will Papa be back soon?" - -"I expect so." - -"Everything's the same with them. They know nothing about it! -Where am I to go?" thought Nicholas, and went again into the dancing -room where the clavichord stood. - -Sonya was sitting at the clavichord, playing the prelude to -Denisov's favorite barcarolle. Natasha was preparing to sing. -Denisov was looking at her with enraptured eyes. - -Nicholas began pacing up and down the room. - -"Why do they want to make her sing? How can she sing? There's -nothing to be happy about!" thought he. - -Sonya struck the first chord of the prelude. - -"My God, I'm a ruined and dishonored man! A bullet through my -brain is the only thing left me- not singing! " his thoughts ran on. -"Go away? But where to? It's one- let them sing!" - -He continued to pace the room, looking gloomily at Denisov and the -girls and avoiding their eyes. - -"Nikolenka, what is the matter?" Sonya's eyes fixed on him seemed to -ask. She noticed at once that something had happened to him. - -Nicholas turned away from her. Natasha too, with her quick instinct, -had instantly noticed her brother's condition. But, though she noticed -it, she was herself in such high spirits at that moment, so far from -sorrow, sadness, or self-reproach, that she purposely deceived herself -as young people often do. "No, I am too happy now to spoil my -enjoyment by sympathy with anyone's sorrow," she felt, and she said to -herself: "No, I must be mistaken, he must be feeling happy, just as -I am." - -"Now, Sonya!" she said, going to the very middle of the room, -where she considered the resonance was best. - -Having lifted her head and let her arms droop lifelessly, as -ballet dancers do, Natasha, rising energetically from her heels to her -toes, stepped to the middle of the room and stood still. - -"Yes, that's me!" she seemed to say, answering the rapt gaze with -which Denisov followed her. - -"And what is she so pleased about?" thought Nicholas, looking at his -sister. "Why isn't she dull and ashamed?" - -Natasha took the first note, her throat swelled, her chest rose, her -eyes became serious. At that moment she was oblivious of her -surroundings, and from her smiling lips flowed sounds which anyone may -produce at the same intervals hold for the same time, but which -leave you cold a thousand times and the thousand and first time thrill -you and make you weep. - -Natasha, that winter, had for the first time begun to sing -seriously, mainly because Denisov so delighted in her singing. She -no longer sang as a child, there was no longer in her singing that -comical, childish, painstaking effect that had been in it before; -but she did not yet sing well, as all the connoisseurs who heard her -said: "It is not trained, but it is a beautiful voice that must be -trained." Only they generally said this some time after she had -finished singing. While that untrained voice, with its incorrect -breathing and labored transitions, was sounding, even the connoisseurs -said nothing, but only delighted in it and wished to hear it again. In -her voice there was a virginal freshness, an unconsciousness of her -own powers, and an as yet untrained velvety softness, which so mingled -with her lack of art in singing that it seemed as if nothing in that -voice could be altered without spoiling it. - -"What is this?" thought Nicholas, listening to her with widely -opened eyes. "What has happened to her? How she is singing today!" And -suddenly the whole world centered for him on anticipation of the -next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world was divided -into three beats: "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... one, -two, three... One... "Oh mio crudele affetto."... One, two, three... -One. "Oh, this senseless life of ours!" thought Nicholas. "All this -misery, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor- it's all -nonsense... but this is real.... Now then, Natasha, now then, dearest! -Now then, darling! How will she take that si? She's taken it! Thank -God!" And without noticing that he was singing, to strengthen the si -he sung a second, a third below the high note. "Ah, God! How fine! Did -I really take it? How fortunate!" he thought. - -Oh, how that chord vibrated, and how moved was something that was -finest in Rostov's soul! And this something was apart from -everything else in the world and above everything in the world. -"What were losses, and Dolokhov, and words of honor?... All -nonsense! One might kill and rob and yet be happy..." - -CHAPTER XVI - -It was long since Rostov had felt such enjoyment from music as he -did that day. But no sooner had Natasha finished her barcarolle than -reality again presented itself. He got up without saying a word and -went downstairs to his own room. A quarter of an hour later the old -count came in from his Club, cheerful and contented. Nicholas, hearing -him drive up, went to meet him. - -"Well- had a good time?" said the old count, smiling gaily and -proudly at his son. - -Nicholas tried to say "Yes," but could not: and he nearly burst into -sobs. The count was lighting his pipe and did not notice his son's -condition. - -"Ah, it can't be avoided!" thought Nicholas, for the first and -last time. And suddenly, in the most casual tone, which made him -feel ashamed feel of himself, he said, as if merely asking his -father to let him have the carriage to drive to town: - -"Papa, I have come on a matter of business. I was nearly forgetting. -I need some money." - -"Dear me!" said his father, who was in a specially good humor. "I -told you it would not be enough. How much?" - -"Very much," said Nicholas flushing, and with a stupid careless -smile, for which he was long unable to forgive himself, "I have lost a -little, I mean a good deal, a great deal- forty three thousand." - -"What! To whom?... Nonsense!" cried the count, suddenly reddening -with an apoplectic flush over neck and nape as old people do. - -"I promised to pay tomorrow," said Nicholas. - -"Well!..." said the old count, spreading out his arms and sinking -helplessly on the sofa. - -"It can't be helped It happens to everyone!" said the son, with a -bold, free, and easy tone, while in his soul he regarded himself as -a worthless scoundrel whose whole life could not atone for his -crime. He longed to kiss his father's hands and kneel to beg his -forgiveness, but said, in a careless and even rude voice, that it -happens to everyone! - -The old count cast down his eyes on hearing his son's words and -began bustlingly searching for something. - -"Yes, yes," he muttered, "it will be difficult, I fear, difficult to -raise... happens to everybody! Yes, who has not done it?" - -And with a furtive glance at his son's face, the count went out of -the room.... Nicholas had been prepared for resistance, but had not at -all expected this. - -"Papa! Pa-pa!" he called after him, sobbing, "forgive me!" And -seizing his father's hand, he pressed it to his lips and burst into -tears. - -While father and son were having their explanation, the mother and -daughter were having one not less important. Natasha came running to -her mother, quite excited. - -"Mamma!... Mamma!... He has made me..." - -"Made what?" - -"Made, made me an offer, Mamma! Mamma!" she exclaimed. - -The countess did not believe her ears. Denisov had proposed. To -whom? To this chit of a girl, Natasha, who not so long ago was playing -with dolls and who was still having lessons. - -"Don't, Natasha! What nonsense!" she said, hoping it was a joke. - -"Nonsense, indeed! I am telling you the fact," said Natasha -indignantly. "I come to ask you what to do, and you call it -'nonsense!'" - -The countess shrugged her shoulders. - -"If it true that Monsieur Denisov has made you a proposal, tell -him he is a fool, that's all!" - -"No, he's not a fool!" replied Natasha indignantly and seriously. - -"Well then, what do you want? You're all in love nowadays. Well, -if you are in love, marry him!" said the countess, with a laugh of -annoyance. "Good luck to you!" - -"No, Mamma, I'm not in love with him, I suppose I'm not in love with -him." - -"Well then, tell him so." - -"Mamma, are you cross? Don't be cross, dear! Is it my fault?" - -"No, but what is it, my dear? Do you want me to go and tell him?" -said the countess smiling. - -"No, I will do it myself, only tell me what to say. It's all very -well for you," said Natasha, with a responsive smile. "You should have -seen how he said it! I know he did not mean to say it, but it came out -accidently." - -"Well, all the same, you must refuse him." - -"No, I mustn't. I am so sorry for him! He's so nice." - -"Well then, accept his offer. It's high time for you to be married," -answered the countess sharply and sarcastically. - -"No, Mamma, but I'm so sorry for him. I don't know how I'm to say -it." - -"And there's nothing for you to say. I shall speak to him myself," -said the countess, indignant that they should have dared to treat this -little Natasha as grown up. - -"No, not on any account! I will tell him myself, and you'll listen -at the door," and Natasha ran across the drawing room to the dancing -hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair by the clavichord -with his face in his hands. - -He jumped up at the sound of her light step. - -"Nataly," he said, moving with rapid steps toward her, "decide my -fate. It is in your hands." - -"Vasili Dmitrich, I'm so sorry for you!... No, but you are so -nice... but it won't do...not that... but as a friend, I shall -always love you." - -Denisov bent over her hand and she heard strange sounds she did -not understand. She kissed his rough curly black head. At this -instant, they heard the quick rustle of the countess' dress. She -came up to them. - -"Vasili Dmitrich, I thank you for the honor," she said, with an -embarrassed voice, though it sounded severe to Denisov- "but my -daughter is so young, and I thought that, as my son's friend, you -would have addressed yourself first to me. In that case you would -not have obliged me to give this refusal." - -"Countess..." said Denisov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face. He -tried to say more, but faltered. - -Natasha could not remain calm, seeing him in such a plight. She -began to sob aloud. - -"Countess, I have done w'ong," Denisov went on in an unsteady voice, -"but believe me, I so adore your daughter and all your family that I -would give my life twice over..." He looked at the countess, and -seeing her severe face said: "Well, good-by, Countess," and kissing -her hand, he left the room with quick resolute strides, without -looking at Natasha. - -Next day Rostov saw Denisov off. He not wish to stay another day -in Moscow. All Denisov's Moscow friends gave him a farewell -entertainment at the gypsies', with the result that he had no -recollection of how he was put in the sleigh or of the first three -stages of his journey. - -After Denisov's departure, Rostov spent another fortnight in Moscow, -without going out of the house, waiting for the money his father could -not at once raise, and he spent most of his time in the girls' room. - -Sonya was more tender and devoted to him than ever. It was as if she -wanted to show him that his losses were an achievement that made her -love him all the more, but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of -her. - -He filled the girls' albums with verses and music, and having at -last sent Dolokhov the whole forty-three thousand rubles and -received his receipt, he left at the end of November, without taking -leave of any of his acquaintances, to overtake his regiment which -was already in Poland. - -BOOK FIVE: 1806 - 07 - -CHAPTER I - -After his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the -Torzhok post station, either there were no horses or the postmaster -would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, -he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big -feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. - -"Will you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and -tea?" asked his valet. - -Pierre gave no answer, for he neither heard nor saw anything. He had -begun to think of the last station and was still pondering on the same -question- one so important that he took no notice of what went on -around him. Not only was he indifferent as to whether he got to -Petersburg earlier or later, or whether he secured accommodation at -this station, but compared to the thoughts that now occupied him it -was a matter of indifference whether he remained there for a few hours -or for the rest of his life. - -The postmaster, his wife, the valet, and a peasant woman selling -Torzhok embroidery came into the room offering their services. Without -changing his careless attitude, Pierre looked at them over his -spectacles unable to understand what they wanted or how they could -go on living without having solved the problems that so absorbed -him. He had been engrossed by the same thoughts ever since the day -he returned from Sokolniki after the duel and had spent that first -agonizing, sleepless night. But now, in the solitude of the journey, -they seized him with special force. No matter what he thought about, -he always returned to these same questions which he could not solve -and yet could not cease to ask himself. It was as if the thread of the -chief screw which held his life together were stripped, so that the -screw could not get in or out, but went on turning uselessly in the -same place. - -The postmaster came in and began obsequiously to beg his -excellency to wait only two hours, when, come what might, he would let -his excellency have the courier horses. It was plain that he was lying -and only wanted to get more money from the traveler. - -"Is this good or bad?" Pierre asked himself. "It is good for me, bad -for another traveler, and for himself it's unavoidable, because he -needs money for food; the man said an officer had once given him a -thrashing for letting a private traveler have the courier horses. -But the officer thrashed him because he had to get on as quickly as -possible. And I," continued Pierre, "shot Dolokhov because I -considered myself injured, and Louis XVI was executed because they -considered him a criminal, and a year later they executed those who -executed him- also for some reason. What is bad? What is good? What -should one love and what hate? What does one live for? And what am -I? What is life, and what is death? What power governs all?" - -There was no answer to any of these questions, except one, and -that not a logical answer and not at all a reply to them. The answer -was: "You'll die and all will end. You'll die and know all, or cease -asking." But dying was also dreadful. - -The Torzhok peddler woman, in a whining voice, went on offering -her wares, especially a pair of goatskin slippers. "I have hundreds of -rubles I don't know what to do with, and she stands in her tattered -cloak looking timidly at me," he thought. "And what does she want -the money for? As if that money could add a hair's breadth to -happiness or peace of mind. Can anything in the world make her or me -less a prey to evil and death?- death which ends all and must come -today or tomorrow- at any rate, in an instant as compared with -eternity." And again he twisted the screw with the stripped thread, -and again it turned uselessly in the same place. - -His servant handed him a half-cut novel, in the form of letters, -by Madame de Souza. He began reading about the sufferings and virtuous -struggles of a certain Emilie de Mansfeld. "And why did she resist her -seducer when she loved him?" he thought. "God could not have put -into her heart an impulse that was against His will. My wife- as she -once was- did not struggle, and perhaps she was right. Nothing has -been found out, nothing discovered," Pierre again said to himself. -"All we can know is that we know nothing. And that's the height of -human wisdom." - -Everything within and around him seemed confused, senseless, and -repellent. Yet in this very repugnance to all his circumstances Pierre -found a kind of tantalizing satisfaction. - -"I make bold to ask your excellency to move a little for this -gentleman," said the postmaster, entering the room followed by another -traveler, also detained for lack of horses. - -The newcomer was a short, large-boned, yellow-faced, wrinkled old -man, with gray bushy eyebrows overhanging bright eyes of an indefinite -grayish color. - -Pierre took his feet off the table, stood up, and lay down on a -bed that had been got ready for him, glancing now and then at the -newcomer, who, with a gloomy and tired face, was wearily taking off -his wraps with the aid of his servant, and not looking at Pierre. With -a pair of felt boots on his thin bony legs, and keeping on a worn, -nankeen-covered, sheepskin coat, the traveler sat down on the sofa, -leaned back his big head with its broad temples and close-cropped -hair, and looked at Bezukhov. The stern, shrewd, and penetrating -expression of that look struck Pierre. He felt a wish to speak to -the stranger, but by the time he had made up his mind to ask him a -question about the roads, the traveler had closed his eyes. His -shriveled old hands were folded and on the finger of one of them -Pierre noticed a large cast iron ring with a seal representing a -death's head. The stranger sat without stirring, either resting or, as -it seemed to Pierre, sunk in profound and calm meditation. His servant -was also a yellow, wrinkled old man, without beard or mustache, -evidently not because he was shaven but because they had never -grown. This active old servant was unpacking the traveler's canteen -and preparing tea. He brought in a boiling samovar. When everything -was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled -a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to -whom he passed it. Pierre began to feel a sense of uneasiness, and the -need, even the inevitability, of entering into conversation with -this stranger. - -The servant brought back his tumbler turned upside down,~{ To indicate he did not want more tea. }~ with an -unfinished bit of nibbled sugar, and asked if anything more would be -wanted. - -"No. Give me the book," said the stranger. - -The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional -work, and the traveler became absorbed in it. Pierre looked at him. -All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and -again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his -former position with his eyes shut. Pierre looked at him and had not -time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady -and severe gaze straight on Pierre's face. - -Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright -old eyes attracted him irresistibly. - -CHAPTER II - -"I have the pleasure of addressing Count Bezukhov, if I am not -mistaken," said the stranger in a deliberate and loud voice. - -Pierre looked silently and inquiringly at him over his spectacles. - -"I have heard of you, my dear sir, "continued the stranger, "and -of your misfortune." He seemed to emphasize the last word, as if to -say- "Yes, misfortune! Call it what you please, I know that what -happened to you in Moscow was a misfortune."- "I regret it very -much, my dear sir." - -Pierre flushed and, hurriedly putting his legs down from the bed, -bent forward toward the old man with a forced and timid smile. - -"I have not referred to this out of curiosity, my dear sir, but -for greater reasons." - -He paused, his gaze still on Pierre, and moved aside on the sofa -by way of inviting the other to take a seat beside him. Pierre felt -reluctant to enter into conversation with this old man, but, -submitting to him involuntarily, came up and sat down beside him. - -"You are unhappy, my dear sir," the stranger continued. "You are -young and I am old. I should like to help you as far as lies in my -power." - -"Oh, yes!" said Pierre, with a forced smile. "I am very grateful -to you. Where are you traveling from?" - -The stranger's face was not genial, it was even cold and severe, but -in spite of this, both the face and words of his new acquaintance were -irresistibly attractive to Pierre. - -"But if for reason you don't feel inclined to talk to me," said -the old man, "say so, my dear sir." And he suddenly smiled, in an -unexpected and tenderly paternal way. - -"Oh no, not at all! On the contrary, I am very glad to make your -acquaintance," said Pierre. And again, glancing at the stranger's -hands, he looked more closely at the ring, with its skull- a Masonic -sign. - -"Allow me to ask," he said, "are you a Mason?" - -"Yes, I belong to the Brotherhood of the Freemasons," said the -stranger, looking deeper and deeper into Pierre's eyes. "And in -their name and my own I hold out a brotherly hand to you." - -"I am afraid," said Pierre, smiling, and wavering between the -confidence the personality of the Freemason inspired in him and his -own habit of ridiculing the Masonic beliefs- "I am afraid I am very -far from understanding- how am I to put it?- I am afraid my way of -looking at the world is so opposed to yours that we shall not -understand one another." - -"I know your outlook," said the Mason, "and the view of life you -mention, and which you think is the result of your own mental efforts, -is the one held by the majority of people, and is the invariable fruit -of pride, indolence, and ignorance. Forgive me, my dear sir, but if -I had not known it I should not have addressed you. Your view of -life is a regrettable delusion." - -"Just as I may suppose you to be deluded," said Pierre, with a faint -smile. - -"I should never dare to say that I know the truth," said the -Mason, whose words struck Pierre more and more by their precision -and firmness. "No one can attain to truth by himself. Only by laying -stone on stone with the cooperation of all, by the millions of -generations from our forefather Adam to our own times, is that -temple reared which is to be a worthy dwelling place of the Great -God," he added, and closed his eyes. - -"I ought to tell you that I do not believe... do not believe in God, -said Pierre, regretfully and with an effort, feeling it essential to -speak the whole truth. - -The Mason looked intently at Pierre and smiled as a rich man with -millions in hand might smile at a poor fellow who told him that he, -poor man, had not the five rubles that would make him happy. - -"Yes, you do not know Him, my dear sir," said the Mason. "You cannot -know Him. You do not know Him and that is why you are unhappy." - -"Yes, yes, I am unhappy," assented Pierre. "But what am I to do?" - -"You know Him not, my dear sir, and so you are very unhappy. You -do not know Him, but He is here, He is in me, He is in my words, He is -in thee, and even in those blasphemous words thou hast just -uttered!" pronounced the Mason in a stern and tremulous voice. - -He paused and sighed, evidently trying to calm himself. - -"If He were not," he said quietly, "you and I would not be -speaking of Him, my dear sir. Of what, of whom, are we speaking? -Whom hast thou denied?" he suddenly asked with exulting austerity -and authority in his voice. "Who invented Him, if He did not exist? -Whence came thy conception of the existence of such an -incomprehensible Being? didst thou, and why did the whole world, -conceive the idea of the existence of such an incomprehensible -Being, a Being all-powerful, eternal, and infinite in all His -attributes?..." - -He stopped and remained silent for a long time. - -Pierre could not and did not wish to break this silence. - -"He exists, but to understand Him is hard," the Mason began again, -looking not at Pierre but straight before him, and turning the -leaves of his book with his old hands which from excitement he could -not keep still. "If it were a man whose existence thou didst doubt I -could bring him to thee, could take him by the hand and show him to -thee. But how can I, an insignificant mortal, show His omnipotence, -His infinity, and all His mercy to one who is blind, or who shuts -his eyes that he may not see or understand Him and may not see or -understand his own vileness and sinfulness?" He paused again. "Who art -thou? Thou dreamest that thou art wise because thou couldst utter -those blasphemous words," he went on, with a somber and scornful -smile. "And thou art more foolish and unreasonable than a little -child, who, playing with the parts of a skillfully made watch, dares -to say that, as he does not understand its use, he does not believe in -the master who made it. To know Him is hard.... For ages, from our -forefather Adam to our own day, we labor to attain that knowledge -and are still infinitely far from our aim; but in our lack of -understanding we see only our weakness and His greatness...." - -Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the Mason's face -with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but -believing with his whole soul what the stranger said. Whether he -accepted the wise reasoning contained in the Mason's words, or -believed as a child believes, in the speaker's tone of conviction -and earnestness, or the tremor of the speaker's voice- which sometimes -almost broke- or those brilliant aged eyes grown old in this -conviction, or the calm firmness and certainty of his vocation, -which radiated from his whole being (and which struck Pierre -especially by contrast with his own dejection and hopelessness)- at -any rate, Pierre longed with his whole soul to believe and he did -believe, and felt a joyful sense of comfort, regeneration, and -return to life. - -"He is not to be apprehended by reason, but by life," said the -Mason. - -"I do not understand," said Pierre, feeling with dismay doubts -reawakening. He was afraid of any want of clearness, any weakness, -in the Mason's arguments; he dreaded not to be able to believe in him. -"I don't understand," he said, "how it is that the mind of man -cannot attain the knowledge of which you speak." - -The Mason smiled with his gentle fatherly smile. - -"The highest wisdom and truth are like the purest liquid we may wish -to imbibe," he said. "Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure -vessel and judge of its purity? Only by the inner purification of -myself can I retain in some degree of purity the liquid I receive." - -"Yes, yes, that is so," said Pierre joyfully. - -"The highest wisdom is not founded on reason alone, not on those -worldly sciences of physics, history, chemistry, and the like, into -which intellectual knowledge is divided. The highest wisdom is one. -The highest wisdom has but one science- the science of the whole- -the science explaining the whole creation and man's place in it. To -receive that science it is necessary to purify and renew one's inner -self, and so before one can know, it is necessary to believe and to -perfect one's self. And to attain this end, we have the light called -conscience that God has implanted in our souls." - -"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. - -"Look then at thy inner self with the eyes of the spirit, and ask -thyself whether thou art content with thyself. What hast thou attained -relying on reason only? What art thou? You are young, you are rich, -you are clever, you are well educated. And what have you done with all -these good gifts? Are you content with yourself and with your life?" - -"No, I hate my life," Pierre muttered, wincing. - -"Thou hatest it. Then change it, purify thyself; and as thou art -purified, thou wilt gain wisdom. Look at your life, my dear sir. How -have you spent it? In riotous orgies and debauchery, receiving -everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have -become the possessor of wealth. How have you used it? What have you -done for your neighbor? Have you ever thought of your tens of -thousands of slaves? Have you helped them physically and morally? -No! You have profited by their toil to lead a profligate life. That is -what you have done. Have you chosen a post in which you might be of -service to your neighbor? No! You have spent your life in idleness. -Then you married, my dear sir- took on yourself responsibility for the -guidance of a young woman; and what have you done? You have not helped -her to find the way of truth, my dear sir, but have thrust her into an -abyss of deceit and misery. A man offended you and you shot him, and -you say you do not know God and hate your life. There is nothing -strange in that, my dear sir!" - -After these words, the Mason, as if tired by his long discourse, -again leaned his arms on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. -Pierre looked at that aged, stern, motionless, almost lifeless face -and moved his lips without uttering a sound. He wished to say, "Yes, a -vile, idle, vicious life!" but dared not break the silence. - -The Mason cleared his throat huskily, as old men do, and called -his servant. - -"How about the horses?" he asked, without looking at Pierre. - -"The exchange horses have just come," answered the servant. "Will -you not rest here?" - -"No, tell them to harness." - -"Can he really be going away leaving me alone without having told me -all, and without promising to help me?" thought Pierre, rising with -downcast head; and he began to pace the room, glancing occasionally at -the Mason. "Yes, I never thought of it, but I have led a -contemptible and profligate life, though I did not like it and did not -want to," thought Pierre. "But this man knows the truth and, if he -wished to, could disclose it to me." - -Pierre wished to say this to the Mason, but did not dare to. The -traveler, having packed his things with his practiced hands, began -fastening his coat. When he had finished, he turned to Bezukhov, and -said in a tone of indifferent politeness: - -"Where are you going to now, my dear sir?" - -"I?... I'm going to Petersburg," answered Pierre, in a childlike, -hesitating voice. "I thank you. I agree with all you have said. But do -not suppose me to be so bad. With my whole soul I wish to be what -you would have me be, but I have never had help from anyone.... But it -is I, above all, who am to blame for everything. Help me, teach me, -and perhaps I may..." - -Pierre could not go on. He gulped and turned away. - -The Mason remained silent for a long time, evidently considering. - -"Help comes from God alone," he said, "but such measure of help as -our Order can bestow it will render you, my dear sir. You are going to -Petersburg. Hand this to Count Willarski" (he took out his notebook -and wrote a few words on a large sheet of paper folded in four). -"Allow me to give you a piece of advice. When you reach the capital, -first of all devote some time to solitude and self-examination and -do not resume your former way of life. And now I wish you a good -journey, my dear sir," he added, seeing that his servant had -entered... "and success." - -The traveler was Joseph Alexeevich Bazdeev, as Pierre saw from the -postmaster's book. Bazdeev had been one of the best-known Freemasons -and Martinists, even in Novikov's time. For a long while after he -had gone, Pierre did not go to bed or order horses but paced up and -down the room, pondering over his vicious past, and with a rapturous -sense of beginning anew pictured to himself the blissful, -irreproachable, virtuous future that seemed to him so easy. It -seemed to him that he had been vicious only because he had somehow -forgotten how good it is to be virtuous. Not a trace of his former -doubts remained in his soul. He firmly believed in the possibility -of the brotherhood of men united in the aim of supporting one -another in the path of virtue, and that is how Freemasonry presented -itself to him. - -CHAPTER III - -On reaching Petersburg Pierre did not let anyone know of his -arrival, he went nowhere and spent whole days in reading Thomas a -Kempis, whose book had been sent him by someone unknown. One thing -he continually realized as he read that book: the joy, hitherto -unknown to him, of believing in the possibility of attaining -perfection, and in the possibility of active brotherly love among men, -which Joseph Alexeevich had revealed to him. A week after his arrival, -the young Polish count, Willarski, whom Pierre had known slightly in -Petersburg society, came into his room one evening in the official and -ceremonious manner in which Dolokhov's second had called on him, -and, having closed the door behind him and satisfied himself that -there was nobody else in the room, addressed Pierre. - -"I have come to you with a message and an offer, Count," he said -without sitting down. "A person of very high standing in our -Brotherhood has made application for you to be received into our Order -before the usual term and has proposed to me to be your sponsor. I -consider it a sacred duty to fulfill that person's wishes. Do you wish -to enter the Brotherhood of Freemasons under my sponsorship?" - -The cold, austere tone of this man, whom he had almost always -before met at balls, amiably smiling in the society of the most -brilliant women, surprised Pierre. - -"Yes, I do wish it," said he. - -Willarski bowed his head. - -"One more question, Count," he said, "which beg you to answer in all -sincerity- not as a future Mason but as an honest man: have you -renounced your former convictions- do you believe in God?" - -Pierre considered. - -"Yes... yes, I believe in God," he said. - -"In that case..." began Willarski, but Pierre interrupted him. - -"Yes, I do believe in God," he repeated. - -"In that case we can go," said Willarski. "My carriage is at your -service." - -Willarski was silent throughout the drive. To Pierre's inquiries -as to what he must do and how he should answer, Willarski only replied -that brothers more worthy than he would test him and that Pierre had -only to tell the truth. - -Having entered the courtyard of a large house where the Lodge had -its headquarters, and having ascended a dark staircase, they entered a -small well-lit anteroom where they took off their cloaks without the -aid of a servant. From there they passed into another room. A man in -strange attire appeared at the door. Willarski, stepping toward him, -said something to him in French in an undertone and then went up to -a small wardrobe in which Pierre noticed garments such as he had never -seen before. Having taken a kerchief from the cupboard, Willarski -bound Pierre's eyes with it and tied it in a knot behind, catching -some hairs painfully in the knot. Then he drew his face down, kissed -him, and taking him by the hand led him forward. The hairs tied in the -knot hurt Pierre and there were lines of pain on his face and a -shamefaced smile. His huge figure, with arms hanging down and with a -puckered, though smiling face, moved after Willarski with uncertain, -timid steps. - -Having led him about ten paces, Willarski stopped. - -"Whatever happens to you," he said, "you must bear it all manfully -if you have firmly resolved to join our Brotherhood." (Pierre nodded -affirmatively.) "When you hear a knock at the door, you will uncover -your eyes," added Willarski. "I wish you courage and success," and, -pressing Pierre's hand, he went out. - -Left alone, Pierre went on smiling in the same way. Once or twice he -shrugged his and raised his hand to the kerchief, as if wishing to -take it off, but let it drop again. The five minutes spent with his -eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour. His arms felt numb, his legs -almost gave way, it seemed to him that he was tired out. He -experienced a variety of most complex sensations. He felt afraid of -what would happen to him and still more afraid of showing his fear. He -felt curious to know what was going to happen and what would be -revealed to him; but most of all, he felt joyful that the moment had -come when he would at last start on that path of regeneration and on -the actively virtuous life of which he had been dreaming since he -met Joseph Alexeevich. Loud knocks were heard at the door. Pierre took -the bandage off his eyes and glanced around him. The room was in black -darkness, only a small lamp was burning inside something white. Pierre -went nearer and saw that the lamp stood on a black table on which -lay an open book. The book was the Gospel, and the white thing with -the lamp inside was a human skull with its cavities and teeth. After -reading the first words of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the -Word and the Word was with God," Pierre went round the table and saw a -large open box filled with something. It was a coffin with bones -inside. He was not at all surprised by what he saw. Hoping to enter on -an entirely new life quite unlike the old one, he expected -everything to be unusual, even more unusual than what he was seeing. A -skull, a coffin, the Gospel- it seemed to him that he had expected all -this and even more. Trying to stimulate his emotions he looked around. -"God, death, love, the brotherhood of man," he kept saying to himself, -associating these words with vague yet joyful ideas. The door opened -and someone came in. - -By the dim light, to which Pierre had already become accustomed, -he saw rather short man. Having evidently come from the light into the -darkness, the man paused, then moved with cautious steps toward the -table and placed on it his small leather-gloved hands. - -This short man had on a white leather apron which covered his -chest and part of his legs; he had on a kind of necklace above which -rose a high white ruffle, outlining his rather long face which was lit -up from below. - -"For what have you come hither?" asked the newcomer, turning in -Pierre's direction at a slight rustle made by the latter. "Why have -you, who do not believe in the truth of the light and who have not -seen the light, come here? What do you seek from us? Wisdom, virtue, -enlightenment?" - -At the moment the door opened and the stranger came in, Pierre -felt a sense of awe and veneration such as he had experienced in his -boyhood at confession; he felt himself in the presence of one socially -a complete stranger, yet nearer to him through the brotherhood of man. -With bated breath and beating heart he moved toward the Rhetor (by -which name the brother who prepared a seeker for entrance into the -Brotherhood was known). Drawing nearer, he recognized in the Rhetor -a man he knew, Smolyaninov, and it mortified him to think that the -newcomer was an acquaintance- he wished him simply a brother and a -virtuous instructor. For a long time he could not utter a word, so -that the Rhetor had to repeat his question. - -"Yes... I... I... desire regeneration," Pierre uttered with -difficulty. - -"Very well," said Smolyaninov, and went on at once: "Have you any -idea of the means by which our holy Order will help you to reach -your aim?" said he quietly and quickly. - -"I... hope... for guidance... help... in regeneration," said Pierre, -with a trembling voice and some difficulty in utterance due to his -excitement and to being unaccustomed to speak of abstract matters in -Russian. - -"What is your conception of Freemasonry?" - -"I imagine that Freemasonry is the fraternity and equality of men -who have virtuous aims," said Pierre, feeling ashamed of the -inadequacy of his words for the solemnity of the moment, as he -spoke. "I imagine..." - -"Good!" said the Rhetor quickly, apparently satisfied with this -answer. "Have you sought for means of attaining your aim in religion?" - -"No, I considered it erroneous and did not follow it," said -Pierre, so softly that the Rhetor did not hear him and asked him -what he was saying. "I have been an atheist," answered Pierre. - -"You are seeking for truth in order to follow its laws in your life, -therefore you seek wisdom and virtue. Is that not so?" said the -Rhetor, after a moment's pause. - -"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. - -The Rhetor cleared his throat, crossed his gloved hands on his -breast, and began to speak. - -"Now I must disclose to you the chief aim of our Order," he said, -"and if this aim coincides with yours, you may enter our Brotherhood -with profit. The first and chief object of our Order, the foundation -on which it rests and which no human power can destroy, is the -preservation and handing on to posterity of a certain important -mystery... which has come down to us from the remotest ages, even from -the first man- a mystery on which perhaps the fate of mankind depends. -But since this mystery is of such a nature that nobody can know or use -it unless he be prepared by long and diligent self-purification, not -everyone can hope to attain it quickly. Hence we have a secondary aim, -that of preparing our members as much as possible to reform their -hearts, to purify and enlighten their minds, by means handed on to -us by tradition from those who have striven to attain this mystery, -and thereby to render them capable of receiving it. - -"By purifying and regenerating our members we try, thirdly, to -improve the whole human race, offering it in our members an example of -piety and virtue, and thereby try with all our might to combat the -evil which sways the world. Think this over and I will come to you -again." - -"To combat the evil which sways the world..." Pierre repeated, and a -mental image of his future activity in this direction rose in his -mind. He imagined men such as he had himself been a fortnight ago, and -he addressed an edifying exhortation to them. He imagined to himself -vicious and unfortunate people whom he would assist by word and -deed, imagined oppressors whose victims he would rescue. Of the -three objects mentioned by the Rhetor, this last, that of improving -mankind, especially appealed to Pierre. The important mystery -mentioned by the Rhetor, though it aroused his curiosity, did not seem -to him essential, and the second aim, that of purifying and -regenerating himself, did not much interest him because at that moment -he felt with delight that he was already perfectly cured of his former -faults and was ready for all that was good. - -Half an hour later, the Rhetor returned to inform the seeker of -the seven virtues, corresponding to the seven steps of Solomon's -temple, which every Freemason should cultivate in himself. These -virtues were: 1. Discretion, the keeping of the secrets of the Order. -2. Obedience to those of higher ranks in the Order. 3. Morality. 4. -Love of mankind. 5. Courage. 6. Generosity. 7. The love of death. - -"In the seventh place, try, by the frequent thought of death," the -Rhetor said, "to bring yourself to regard it not as a dreaded foe, but -as a friend that frees the soul grown weary in the labors of virtue -from this distressful life, and leads it to its place of recompense -and peace." - -"Yes, that must be so," thought Pierre, when after these words the -Rhetor went away, leaving him to solitary meditation. "It must be -so, but I am still so weak that I love my life, the meaning of which -is only now gradually opening before me." But five of the other -virtues which Pierre recalled, counting them on his fingers, he felt -already in his soul: courage, generosity, morality, love of mankind, -and especially obedience- which did not even seem to him a virtue, but -a joy. (He now felt so glad to be free from his own lawlessness and to -submit his will to those who knew the indubitable truth.) He forgot -what the seventh virtue was and could not recall it. - -The third time the Rhetor came back more quickly and asked Pierre -whether he was still firm in his intention and determined to submit to -all that would be required of him. - -"I am ready for everything," said Pierre. - -"I must also inform you," said the Rhetor, "that our Order -delivers its teaching not in words only but also by other means, which -may perhaps have a stronger effect on the sincere seeker after -wisdom and virtue than mere words. This chamber with what you see -therein should already have suggested to your heart, if it is sincere, -more than words could do. You will perhaps also see in your further -initiation a like method of enlightenment. Our Order imitates the -ancient societies that explained their teaching by hieroglyphics. A -hieroglyph," said the Rhetor, "is an emblem of something not -cognizable by the senses but which possesses qualities resembling -those of the symbol." - -Pierre knew very well what a hieroglyph was, but dared not speak. He -listened to the Rhetor in silence, feeling from all he said that his -ordeal was about to begin. - -"If you are resolved, I must begin your initiation," said the Rhetor -coming closer to Pierre. "In token of generosity I ask you to give -me all your valuables." - -"But I have nothing here," replied Pierre, supposing that he was -asked to give up all he possessed. - -"What you have with you: watch, money, rings...." - -Pierre quickly took out his purse and watch, but could not manage -for some time to get the wedding ring off his fat finger. When that -had been done, the Rhetor said: - -"In token of obedience, I ask you to undress." - -Pierre took off his coat, waistcoat, and left boot according to -the Rhetor's instructions. The Mason drew the shirt back from Pierre's -left breast, and stooping down pulled up the left leg of his -trousers to above the knee. Pierre hurriedly began taking off his -right boot also and was going to tuck up the other trouser leg to save -this stranger the trouble, but the Mason told him that was not -necessary and gave him a slipper for his left foot. With a childlike -smile of embarrassment, doubt, and self-derision, which appeared on -his face against his will, Pierre stood with his arms hanging down and -legs apart, before his brother Rhetor, and awaited his further -commands. - -"And now, in token of candor, I ask you to reveal to me your chief -passion," said the latter. - -"My passion! I have had so many," replied Pierre. - -"That passion which more than all others caused you to waver on -the path of virtue," said the Mason. - -Pierre paused, seeking a reply. - -"Wine? Gluttony? Idleness? Laziness? Irritability? Anger? Women?" He -went over his vices in his mind, not knowing to which of them to -give the pre-eminence. - -"Women," he said in a low, scarcely audible voice. - -The Mason did not move and for a long time said nothing after this -answer. At last he moved up to Pierre and, taking the kerchief that -lay on the table, again bound his eyes. - -"For the last time I say to you- turn all your attention upon -yourself, put a bridle on your senses, and seek blessedness, not in -passion but in your own heart. The source of blessedness is not -without us but within...." - -Pierre had already long been feeling in himself that refreshing -source of blessedness which now flooded his heart with glad emotion. - -CHAPTER IV - -Soon after this there came into the dark chamber to fetch Pierre, -not the Rhetor but Pierre's sponsor, Willarski, whom he recognized -by his voice. To fresh questions as to the firmness of his -resolution Pierre replied: "Yes, yes, I agree," and with a beaming, -childlike smile, his fat chest uncovered, stepping unevenly and -timidly in one slippered and one booted foot, he advanced, while -Willarski held a sword to his bare chest. He was conducted from that -room along passages that turned backwards and forwards and was at last -brought to the doors of the Lodge. Willarski coughed, he was -answered by the Masonic knock with mallets, the doors opened before -them. A bass voice (Pierre was still blindfold) questioned him as to -who he was, when and where he was born, and so on. Then he was again -led somewhere still blindfold, and as they went along he was told -allegories of the toils of his pilgrimage, of holy friendship, of -the Eternal Architect of the universe, and of the courage with which -he should endure toils and dangers. During these wanderings, Pierre -noticed that he was spoken of now as the "Seeker," now as the -"Sufferer," and now as the "Postulant," to the accompaniment of -various knockings with mallets and swords. As he was being led up to -some object he noticed a hesitation and uncertainty among his -conductors. He heard those around him disputing in whispers and one of -them insisting that he should be led along a certain carpet. After -that they took his right hand, placed it on something, and told him to -hold a pair of compasses to his left breast with the other hand and to -repeat after someone who read aloud an oath of fidelity to the laws of -the Order. The candles were then extinguished and some spirit lighted, -as Pierre knew by the smell, and he was told that he would now see the -lesser light. The bandage was taken off his eyes and, by the faint -light of the burning spirit, Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men -standing before him, wearing aprons like the Rhetor's and holding -swords in their hands pointed at his breast. Among them stood a man -whose white shirt was stained with blood. On seeing this, Pierre moved -forward with his breast toward the swords, meaning them to pierce -it. But the swords were drawn back from him and he was at once -blindfolded again. - -"Now thou hast seen the lesser light," uttered a voice. Then the -candles were relit and he was told that he would see the full light; -the bandage was again removed and more than ten voices said -together: "Sic transit gloria mundi." - -Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the -room and at the people in it. Round a long table covered with black -sat some twelve men in garments like those he had already seen. Some -of them Pierre had met in Petersburg society. In the President's chair -sat a young man he did not know, with a peculiar cross hanging from -his neck. On his right sat the Italian abbe whom Pierre had met at -Anna Pavlovna's two years before. There were also present a very -distinguished dignitary and a Swiss who had formerly been tutor at the -Kuragins'. All maintained a solemn silence, listening to the words -of the President, who held a mallet in his hand. Let into the wall was -a star-shaped light. At one side of the table was a small carpet -with various figures worked upon it, at the other was something -resembling an altar on which lay a Testament and a skull. Round it -stood seven large candlesticks like those used in churches. Two of the -brothers led Pierre up to the altar, placed his feet at right -angles, and bade him lie down, saying that he must prostrate himself -at the Gates of the Temple. - -"He must first receive the trowel," whispered one of the brothers. - -"Oh, hush, please!" said another. - -Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without -obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. "Where am I? What am I -doing? Aren't they laughing at me? Shan't I be ashamed to remember -this?" But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at the -serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone -through, and realized that he could not stop halfway. He was aghast at -his hesitation and, trying to arouse his former devotional feeling, -prostrated himself before the Gates of the Temple. And really, the -feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. -When he had lain there some time, he was told to get up, and a white -leather apron, such as the others wore, was put on him: he was given a -trowel and three pairs of gloves, and then the Grand Master -addressed him. He told him that he should try to do nothing to stain -the whiteness of that apron, which symbolized strength and purity; -then of the unexplained trowel, he told him to toil with it to cleanse -his own heart from vice, and indulgently to smooth with it the heart -of his neighbor. As to the first pair of gloves, a man's, he said that -Pierre could not know their meaning but must keep them. The second -pair of man's gloves he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of -the third, a pair of women's gloves, he said: "Dear brother, these -woman's gloves are intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom -you shall honor most of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity -of heart to her whom you select to be your worthy helpmeet in -Masonry." And after a pause, he added: "But beware, dear brother, that -these gloves do not deck hands that are unclean." While the Grand -Master said these last words it seemed to Pierre that he grew -embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a -child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, -and an awkward pause followed. - -This silence was broken by one of the brethren, who led Pierre up to -the rug and began reading to him from a manuscript book an explanation -of all the figures on it: the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plumb line, a -trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, -and so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre, he was shown the signs -of the Lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit -down. The Grand Master began reading the statutes. They were very -long, and Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in a -state to understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the -last words of the statutes and these remained in his mind. - -"In our temples we recognize no other distinctions," read the -Grand Master, "but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any -distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother's aid -whoever he may be, exhort him who goeth astray, raise him that -falleth, never bear malice or enmity toward thy brother. Be kindly and -courteous. Kindle in all hearts the flame of virtue. Share thy -happiness with thy neighbor, and may envy never dim the purity of that -bliss. Forgive thy enemy, do not avenge thyself except by doing him -good. Thus fulfilling the highest law thou shalt regain traces of -the ancient dignity which thou hast lost." - -He finished and, getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with -tears of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to -answer the congratulations and greetings from acquaintances that met -him on all sides. He acknowledged no acquaintances but saw in all -these men only brothers, and burned with impatience to set to work -with them. - -The Grand Master rapped with his mallet. All the Masons sat down -in their places, and one of them read an exhortation on the -necessity of humility. - -The Grand Master proposed that the last duty should be performed, -and the distinguished dignitary who bore the title of "Collector of -Alms" went round to all the brothers. Pierre would have liked to -subscribe all he had, but fearing that it might look like pride -subscribed the same amount as the others. - -The meeting was at an end, and on reaching home Pierre felt as if he -had returned from a long journey on which he had spent dozens of -years, had become completely changed, and had quite left behind his -former habits and way of life. - -CHAPTER V - -The day after he had been received into the Lodge, Pierre was -sitting at home reading a book and trying to fathom the significance -of the Square, one side of which symbolized God, another moral things, -a third physical things, and the fourth a combination of these. Now -and then his attention wandered from the book and the Square and he -formed in imagination a new plan of life. On the previous evening at -the Lodge, he had heard that a rumor of his duel had reached the -Emperor and that it would be wiser for him to leave Petersburg. Pierre -proposed going to his estates in the south and there attending to -the welfare of his serfs. He was joyfully planning this new life, when -Prince Vasili suddenly entered the room. - -"My dear fellow, what have you been up to in Moscow? Why have you -quarreled with Helene, mon cher? You are under a delusion," said -Prince Vasili, as he entered. "I know all about it, and I can tell you -positively that Helene is as innocent before you as Christ was -before the Jews." - -Pierre was about to reply, but Prince Vasili interrupted him. - -"And why didn't you simply come straight to me as to a friend? I -know all about it and understand it all," he said. "You behaved as -becomes a man values his honor, perhaps too hastily, but we won't go -into that. But consider the position in which you are placing her -and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court," he added, -lowering his voice. "She is living in Moscow and you are here. -Remember, dear boy," and he drew Pierre's arm downwards, "it is simply -a misunderstanding. I expect you feel it so yourself. Let us write her -a letter at once, and she'll come here and all will be explained, or -else, my dear boy, let me tell you it's quite likely you'll have to -suffer for it." - -Prince Vasili gave Pierre a significant look. - -"I know from reliable sources that the Dowager Empress is taking a -keen interest in the whole affair. You know she is very gracious to -Helene." - -Pierre tried several times to speak, but, on one hand, Prince Vasili -did not let him and, on the other, Pierre himself feared to begin to -speak in the tone of decided refusal and disagreement in which he -had firmly resolved to answer his father-in-law. Moreover, the words -of the Masonic statutes, "be kindly and courteous," recurred to him. -He blinked, went red, got up and sat down again, struggling with -himself to do what was for him the most difficult thing in life- to -say an unpleasant thing to a man's face, to say what the other, -whoever he might be, did not expect. He was so used to submitting to -Prince Vasili's tone of careless self-assurance that he felt he -would be unable to withstand it now, but he also felt that on what -he said now his future depended- whether he would follow the same -old road, or that new path so attractively shown him by the Masons, on -which he firmly believed he would be reborn to a new life. - -"Now, dear boy," said Prince Vasili playfully, "say 'yes,' and -I'll write to her myself, and we will kill the fatted calf." - -But before Prince Vasili had finished his playful speech, Pierre, -without looking at him, and with a kind of fury that made him like his -father, muttered in a whisper: - -"Prince, I did not ask you here. Go, please go!" And he jumped up -and opened the door for him. - -"Go!" he repeated, amazed at himself and glad to see the look of -confusion and fear that showed itself on Prince Vasili's face. - -"What's the matter with you? Are you ill?" - -"Go!" the quivering voice repeated. And Prince Vasili had to go -without receiving any explanation. - -A week later, Pierre, having taken leave of his new friends, the -Masons, and leaving large sums of money with them for alms, went -away to his estates. His new brethren gave him letters to the Kiev and -Odessa Masons and promised to write to him and guide him in his new -activity. - -CHAPTER VI - -The duel between Pierre and Dolokhov was hushed up and, in spite -of the Emperor's severity regarding duels at that time, neither the -principals nor their seconds suffered for it. But the story of the -duel, confirmed by Pierre's rupture with his wife, was the talk of -society. Pierre who had been regarded with patronizing condescension -when he was an illegitimate son, and petted and extolled when he was -the best match in Russia, had sunk greatly in the esteem of society -after his marriage- when the marriageable daughters and their -mothers had nothing to hope from him- especially as he did not know -how, and did not wish, to court society's favor. Now he alone was -blamed for what had happened, he was said to be insanely jealous and -subject like his father to fits of bloodthirsty rage. And when after -Pierre's departure Helene returned to Petersburg, she was received -by all her acquaintances not only cordially, but even with a shade -of deference due to her misfortune. When conversation turned on her -husband Helene assumed a dignified expression, which with -characteristic tact she had acquired though she did not understand its -significance. This expression suggested that she had resolved to -endure her troubles uncomplainingly and that her husband was a cross -laid upon her by God. Prince Vasili expressed his opinion more openly. -He shrugged his shoulders when Pierre was mentioned and, pointing to -his forehead, remarked: - -"A bit touched- I always said so." - -"I said from the first," declared Anna Pavlovna referring to Pierre, -"I said at the time and before anyone else" (she insisted on her -priority) "that that senseless young man was spoiled by the depraved -ideas of these days. I said so even at the time when everybody was -in raptures about him, when he had just returned from abroad, and -when, if you remember, he posed as a sort of Marat at one of my -soirees. And how has it ended? I was against this marriage even then -and foretold all that has happened." - -Anna Pavlovna continued to give on free evenings the same kind of -soirees as before- such as she alone had the gift of arranging- at -which was to be found "the cream of really good society, the bloom -of the intellectual essence of Petersburg," as she herself put it. -Besides this refined selection of society Anna Pavlovna's receptions -were also distinguished by the fact that she always presented some new -and interesting person to the visitors and that nowhere else was the -state of the political thermometer of legitimate Petersburg court -society so dearly and distinctly indicated. - -Toward the end of 1806, when all the sad details of Napoleon's -destruction of the Prussian army at Jena and Auerstadt and the -surrender of most of the Prussian fortresses had been received, when -our troops had already entered Prussia and our second war with -Napoleon was beginning, Anna Pavlovna gave one of her soirees. The -"cream of really good society" consisted of the fascinating Helene, -forsaken by her husband, Mortemart, the delightful Prince Hippolyte -who had just returned from Vienna, two diplomatists, the old aunt, a -young man referred to in that drawing room as "a man of great merit" -(un homme de beaucoup de merite), a newly appointed maid of honor -and her mother, and several other less noteworthy persons. - -The novelty Anna Pavlovna was setting before her guests that evening -was Boris Drubetskoy, who had just arrived as a special messenger from -the Prussian army and was aide-de-camp to a very important personage. - -The temperature shown by the political thermometer to the company -that evening was this: - -"Whatever the European sovereigns and commanders may do to -countenance Bonaparte, and to cause me, and us in general, annoyance -and mortification, our opinion of Bonaparte cannot alter. We shall not -cease to express our sincere views on that subject, and can only say -to the King Prussia and others: 'So much the worse for you. Tu l'as -voulu, George Dandin,' that's all we have to say about it!" - -When Boris, who was to be served up to the guests, entered the -drawing room, almost all the company had assembled, and the -conversation, guided by Anna Pavlovna, was about our diplomatic -relations with Austria and the hope of an alliance with her. - -Boris, grown more manly and looking fresh, rosy and -self-possessed, entered the drawing room elegantly dressed in the -uniform of an aide-de-camp and was duly conducted to pay his -respects to the aunt and then brought back to the general circle. - -Anna Pavlovna gave him her shriveled hand to kiss and introduced him -to several persons whom he did not know, giving him a whispered -description of each. -charge d'affaires from Copenhagen- a profound intellect," and -simply, "Mr. Shitov- a man of great merit"- this of the man usually so -described. - -Thanks to Anna Mikhaylovna's efforts, his own tastes, and the -peculiarities of his reserved nature, Boris had managed during his -service to place himself very advantageously. He was aide-de-camp to a -very important personage, had been sent on a very important mission to -Prussia, and had just returned from there as a special messenger. He -had become thoroughly conversant with that unwritten code with which -he had been so pleased at Olmutz and according to which an ensign -might rank incomparably higher than a general, and according to -which what was needed for success in the service was not effort or -work, or courage, or perseverance, but only the knowledge of how to -get on with those who can grant rewards, and he was himself often -surprised at the rapidity of his success and at the inability of -others to understand these things. In consequence of this discovery -his whole manner of life, all his relations with old friends, all -his plans for his future, were completely altered. He was not rich, -but would spend his last groat to be better dressed than others, and -would rather deprive himself of many pleasures than allow himself to -be seen in a shabby equipage or appear in the streets of Petersburg in -an old uniform. He made friends with and sought the acquaintance of -only those above him in position and who could therefore be of use -to him. He liked Petersburg and despised Moscow. The remembrance of -the Rostovs' house and of his childish love for Natasha was unpleasant -to him and he had not once been to see the Rostovs since the day of -his departure for the army. To be in Anna Pavlovna's drawing room he -considered an important step up in the service, and he at once -understood his role, letting his hostess make use of whatever interest -he had to offer. He himself carefully scanned each face, appraising -the possibilities of establishing intimacy with each of those present, -and the advantages that might accrue. He took the seat indicated to -him beside the fair Helene and listened to the general conversation. - -"Vienna considers the bases of the proposed treaty so unattainable -that not even a continuity of most brilliant successes would secure -them, and she doubts the means we have of gaining them. That is the -actual phrase used by the Vienna cabinet," said the Danish charge -d'affaires. - -"The doubt is flattering," said "the man of profound intellect," -with a subtle smile. - -"We must distinguish between the Vienna cabinet and the Emperor of -Austria," said Mortemart. "The Emperor of Austria can never have -thought of such a thing, it is only the cabinet that says it." - -"Ah, my dear vicomte," put in Anna Pavlovna, "L'Urope" (for some -reason she called it Urope as if that were a specially refined -French pronunciation which she could allow herself when conversing -with a Frenchman), "L'Urope ne sera jamais notre alliee sincere."~{ "Europe will never be our sincere ally." }~ - -After that Anna Pavlovna led up to the courage and firmness of the -King of Prussia, in order to draw Boris into the conversation. - -Boris listened attentively to each of the speakers, awaiting his -turn, but managed meanwhile to look round repeatedly at his -neighbor, the beautiful Helene, whose eyes several times met those -of the handsome young aide-de-camp with a smile. - -Speaking of the position of Prussia, Anna Pavlovna very naturally -asked Boris to tell them about his journey to Glogau and in what state -he found the Prussian army. Boris, speaking with deliberation, told -them in pure, correct French many interesting details about the armies -and the court, carefully abstaining from expressing an opinion of -his own about the facts he was recounting. For some time he -engrossed the general attention, and Anna Pavlovna felt that the -novelty she had served up was received with pleasure by all her -visitors. The greatest attention of all to Boris' narrative was -shown by Helene. She asked him several questions about his journey and -seemed greatly interested in the state of the Prussian army. As soon -as he had finished she turned to him with her usual smile. - -"You absolutely must come and see me," she said in a tone that -implied that, for certain considerations he could not know of, this -was absolutely necessary. - -"On Tuesday between eight and nine. It will give me great pleasure." - -Boris promised to fulfill her wish and was about to begin a -conversation with her, when Anna Pavlovna called him away on the -pretext that her aunt wished to hear him. - -"You know her husband, of course?" said Anna Pavlovna, closing her -eyes and indicating Helene with a sorrowful gesture. "Ah, she is -such an unfortunate and charming woman! Don't mention him before -her- please don't! It is too painful for her!" - -CHAPTER VII - -When Boris and Anna Pavlovna returned to the others Prince Hippolyte -had the ear of the company. - -Bending forward in his armchair he said: "Le Roi de Prusse!" and -having said this laughed. Everyone turned toward him. - -"Le Roi de Prusse?" Hippolyte said interrogatively, again -laughing, and then calmly and seriously sat back in his chair. Anna -Pavlovna waited for him to go on, but as he seemed quite decided to -say no more she began to tell of how at Potsdam the impious -Bonaparte had stolen the sword of Frederick the Great. - -"It is the sword of Frederick the Great which I..." she began, but -Hippolyte interrupted her with the words: "Le Roi de Prusse..." and -again, as soon as soon as all turned toward him, excused himself and -said no more. - -Anna Pavlovna frowned. Mortemart, Hippolyte's friend, addressed -him firmly. - -"Come now, what about your Roi de Prusse?" - -Hippolyte laughed as if ashamed of laughing. - -"Oh, it's nothing. I only wished to say..." (he wanted to repeat a -joke he had heard in Vienna and which he had been trying all that -evening to get in) "I only wished to say that we are wrong to fight -pour le Roi de Prusse!" - -Boris smiled circumspectly, so that it might be taken as ironical or -appreciative according to the way the joke was received. Everybody -laughed. - -"Your joke is too bad, it's witty but unjust," said Anna Pavlovna, -shaking her little shriveled finger at him. - -"We are not fighting pour le Roi de Prusse, but for right -principles. Oh, that wicked Prince Hippolyte!" she said. - -The conversation did not flag all evening and turned chiefly on -the political news. It became particularly animated toward the end -of the evening when the rewards bestowed by the Emperor were -mentioned. - -"You know N- N- received a snuffbox with the portrait last year?" -said "the man of profound intellect." "Why shouldn't S- S- get the -same distinction?" - -"Pardon me! A snuffbox with the Emperor's portrait is a reward but -not a distinction," said the diplomatist- "a gift, rather." - -"There are precedents, I may mention Schwarzenberg." - -"It's impossible," replied another. - -"Will you bet? The ribbon of the order is a different matter...." - -When everybody rose to go, Helene who had spoken very little all the -evening again turned to Boris, asking him in a tone of caressing -significant command to come to her on Tuesday. - -"It is of great importance to me," she said, turning with a smile -toward Anna Pavlovna, and Anna Pavlovna, with the same sad smile -with which she spoke of her exalted patroness, supported Helene's -wish. - -It seemed as if from some words Boris had spoken that evening -about the Prussian army, Helene had suddenly found it necessary to see -him. She seemed to promise to explain that necessity to him when he -came on Tuesday. - -But on Tuesday evening, having come to Helene's splendid salon, -Boris received no clear explanation of why it had been necessary for -him to come. There were other guests and the countess talked little to -him, and only as he kissed her hand on taking leave said -unexpectedly and in a whisper, with a strangely unsmiling face: -"Come to dinner tomorrow... in the evening. You must come.... Come!" - -During that stay in Petersburg, Boris became an intimate in the -countess' house. - -CHAPTER VIII - -The war was flaming up and nearing the Russian frontier. -Everywhere one heard curses on Bonaparte, "the enemy of mankind." -Militiamen and recruits were being enrolled in the villages, and -from the seat of war came contradictory news, false as usual and -therefore variously interpreted. The life of old Prince Bolkonski, -Prince Andrew, and Princess Mary had greatly changed since 1805. - -In 1806 the old prince was made one of the eight commanders in chief -then appointed to supervise the enrollment decreed throughout -Russia. Despite the weakness of age, which had become particularly -noticeable since the time when he thought his son had been killed, -he did not think it right to refuse a duty to which he had been -appointed by the Emperor himself, and this fresh opportunity for -action gave him new energy and strength. He was continually -traveling through the three provinces entrusted to him, was pedantic -in the fulfillment of his duties, severe to cruelty with his -subordinates, and went into everything down to the minutest details -himself. Princess Mary had ceased taking lessons in mathematics from -her father, and when the old prince was at home went to his study with -the wet nurse and little Prince Nicholas (as his grandfather called -him). The baby Prince Nicholas lived with his wet nurse and nurse -Savishna in the late princess' rooms and Princess Mary spent most of -the day in the nursery, taking a mother's place to her little nephew -as best she could. Mademoiselle Bourienne, too, seemed passionately -fond of the boy, and Princess Mary often deprived herself to give -her friend the pleasure of dandling the little angel- as she called -her nephew- and playing with him. - -Near the altar of the church at Bald Hills there was a chapel over -the tomb of the little princess, and in this chapel was a marble -monument brought from Italy, representing an angel with outspread -wings ready to fly upwards. The angel's upper lip was slightly -raised as though about to smile, and once on coming out of the -chapel Prince Andrew and Princess Mary admitted to one another that -the angel's face reminded them strangely of the little princess. But -what was still stranger, though of this Prince Andrew said nothing -to his sister, was that in the expression the sculptor had happened to -give the angel's face, Prince Andrew read the same mild reproach he -had read on the face of his dead wife: "Ah, why have you done this -to me?" - -Soon after Prince Andrew's return the old prince made over to him -a large estate, Bogucharovo, about twenty-five miles from Bald -Hills. Partly because of the depressing memories associated with -Bald Hills, partly because Prince Andrew did not always feel equal -to bearing with his father's peculiarities, and partly because he -needed solitude, Prince Andrew made use of Bogucharovo, began building -and spent most of his time there. - -After the Austerlitz campaign Prince Andrew had firmly resolved -not to continue his military service, and when the war recommenced and -everybody had to serve, he took a post under his father in the -recruitment so as to avoid active service. The old prince and his -son seemed to have changed roles since the campaign of 1805. The old -man, roused by activity, expected the best results from the new -campaign, while Prince Andrew on the contrary, taking no part in the -war and secretly regretting this, saw only the dark side. - -On February 26, 1807, the old prince set off on one of his circuits. -Prince Andrew remained at Bald Hills as usual during his father's -absence. Little Nicholas had been unwell for four days. The coachman -who had driven the old prince to town returned bringing papers and -letters for Prince Andrew. - -Not finding the young prince in his study the valet went with the -letters to Princess Mary's apartments, but did not find him there. -He was told that the prince had gone to the nursery. - -"If you please, your excellency, Petrusha has brought some -papers," said one of the nursemaids to Prince Andrew who was sitting -on a child's little chair while, frowning and with trembling hands, he -poured drops from a medicine bottle into a wineglass half full of -water. - -"What is it?" he said crossly, and, his hand shaking -unintentionally, he poured too many drops into the glass. He threw the -mixture onto the floor and asked for some more water. The maid brought -it. - -There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a -table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew -was sitting. The curtains were drawn, and a single candle was -burning on the table, screened by a bound music book so that the light -did not fall on the cot. - -"My dear," said Princess Mary, addressing her brother from beside -the cot where she was standing, "better wait a bit... later..." - -"Oh, leave off, you always talk nonsense and keep putting things -off- and this is what comes of it!" said Prince Andrew in an -exasperated whisper, evidently meaning to wound his sister. - -"My dear, really... it's better not to wake him... he's asleep," -said the princess in a tone of entreaty. - -Prince Andrew got up and went on tiptoe up to the little bed, -wineglass in hand. - -"Perhaps we'd really better not wake him," he said hesitating. - -"As you please... really... I think so... but as you please," said -Princess Mary, evidently intimidated and confused that her opinion had -prevailed. She drew her brother's attention to the maid who was -calling him in a whisper. - -It was the second night that neither of them had slept, watching the -boy who was in a high fever. These last days, mistrusting their -household doctor and expecting another for whom they had sent to town, -they had been trying first one remedy and then another. Worn out by -sleeplessness and anxiety they threw their burden of sorrow on one -another and reproached and disputed with each other. - -"Petrusha has come with papers from your father," whispered the -maid. - -Prince Andrew went out. - -"Devil take them!" he muttered, and after listening to the verbal -instructions his father had sent and taking the correspondence and his -father's letter, he returned to the nursery. - -"Well?" he asked. - -"Still the same. Wait, for heaven's sake. Karl Ivanich always says -that sleep is more important than anything," whispered Princess Mary -with a sigh. - -Prince Andrew went up to the child and felt him. He was burning hot. - -"Confound you and your Karl Ivanich!" He took the glass with the -drops and again went up to the cot. - -"Andrew, don't!" said Princess Mary. - -But he scowled at her angrily though also with suffering in his -eyes, and stooped glass in hand over the infant. - -"But I wish it," he said. "I beg you- give it him!" - -Princess Mary shrugged her shoulders but took the glass submissively -and calling the nurse began giving the medicine. The child screamed -hoarsely. Prince Andrew winced and, clutching his head, went out and -sat down on a sofa in the next room. - -He still had all the letters in his hand. Opening them -mechanically he began reading. The old prince, now and then using -abbreviations, wrote in his large elongated hand on blue paper as -follows: - -Have just this moment received by special messenger very joyful -news- if it's not false. Bennigsen seems to have obtained a complete -victory over Buonaparte at Eylau. In Petersburg everyone is rejoicing, -and the rewards sent to the army are innumerable. Though he is a -German- I congratulate him! I can't make out what the commander at -Korchevo- a certain Khandrikov- is up to; till now the additional -men and provisions have not arrived. Gallop off to him at once and say -I'll have his head off if everything is not here in a week. Have -received another letter about the Preussisch-Eylau battle from -Petenka- he took part in it- and it's all true. When mischief-makers -don't meddle even a German beats Buonaparte. He is said to be -fleeing in great disorder. Mind you gallop off to Korchevo without -delay and carry out instructions! - -Prince Andrew sighed and broke the seal of another envelope. It -was a closely written letter of two sheets from Bilibin. He folded -it up without reading it and reread his father's letter, ending with -the words: "Gallop off to Korchevo and carry out instructions!" - -"No, pardon me, I won't go now till the child is better," thought -he, going to the door and looking into the nursery. - -Princess Mary was still standing by the cot, gently rocking the -baby. - -"Ah yes, and what else did he say that's unpleasant?" thought Prince -Andrew, recalling his father's letter. "Yes, we have gained a -victory over Bonaparte, just when I'm not serving. Yes, yes, he's -always poking fun at me.... Ah, well! Let him!" And he began reading -Bilibin's letter which was written in French. He read without -understanding half of it, read only to forget, if but for a moment, -what he had too long been thinking of so painfully to the exclusion of -all else. - -CHAPTER IX - -Bilibin was now at army headquarters in a diplomatic capacity, and -though he wrote in French and used French jests and French idioms, -he described the whole campaign with a fearless self-censure and -self-derision genuinely Russian. Bilibin wrote that the obligation -of diplomatic discretion tormented him, and he was happy to have in -Prince Andrew a reliable correspondent to whom he could pour out the -bile he had accumulated at the sight of all that was being done in the -army. The letter was old, having been written before the battle at -Preussisch-Eylau. - -"Since the day of our brilliant success at Austerlitz," wrote -Bilibin, "as you know, my dear prince, I never leave headquarters. I -have certainly acquired a taste for war, and it is just as well for -me; what I have seen during these last three months is incredible. - -"I begin ab ovo. 'The enemy of the human race,' as you know, attacks -the Prussians. The Prussians are our faithful allies who have only -betrayed us three times in three years. We take up their cause, but it -turns out that 'the enemy of the human race' pays no heed to our -fine speeches and in his rude and savage way throws himself on the -Prussians without giving them time to finish the parade they had -begun, and in two twists of the hand he breaks them to smithereens and -installs himself in the palace at Potsdam. - -"'I most ardently desire,' writes the King of Prussia to -Bonaparte, 'that Your Majesty should be received and treated in my -palace in a manner agreeable to yourself, and in so far as -circumstances allowed, I have hastened to take all steps to that -end. May I have succeeded!' The Prussian generals pride themselves -on being polite to the French and lay down their arms at the first -demand. - -"The head of the garrison at Glogau, with ten thousand men, asks the -King of Prussia what he is to do if he is summoned to surrender.... -All this is absolutely true. - -"In short, hoping to settle matters by taking up a warlike attitude, -it turns out that we have landed ourselves in war, and what is more, -in war on our own frontiers, with and for the King of Prussia. We have -everything in perfect order, only one little thing is lacking, namely, -a commander in chief. As it was considered that the Austerlitz success -might have been more decisive had the commander in chief not been so -young, all our octogenarians were reviewed, and of Prozorovski and -Kamenski the latter was preferred. The general comes to us, -Suvorov-like, in a kibitka, and is received with acclamations of joy -and triumph. - -"On the 4th, the first courier arrives from Petersburg. The mails -are taken to the field marshal's room, for he likes to do everything -himself. I am called in to help sort the letters and take those -meant for us. The field marshal looks on and waits for letters -addressed to him. We search, but none are to be found. The field -marshal grows impatient and sets to work himself and finds letters -from the Emperor to Count T., Prince V., and others. Then he bursts -into one of his wild furies and rages at everyone and everything, -seizes the letters, opens them, and reads those from the Emperor -addressed to others. 'Ah! So that's the way they treat me! No -confidence in me! Ah, ordered to keep an eye on me! Very well then! -Get along with you!' So he writes the famous order of the day to -General Bennigsen: - -'I am wounded and cannot ride and consequently cannot command the -army. You have brought your army corps to Pultusk, routed: here it -is exposed, and without fuel or forage, so something must be done, -and, as you yourself reported to Count Buxhowden yesterday, you must -think of retreating to our frontier- which do today.' - -"'From all my riding,' he writes to the Emperor, 'I have got a -saddle sore which, coming after all my previous journeys, quite -prevents my riding and commanding so vast an army, so I have passed on -the command to the general next in seniority, Count Buxhowden, -having sent him my whole staff and all that belongs to it, advising -him if there is a lack of bread, to move farther into the interior -of Prussia, for only one day's ration of bread remains, and in some -regiments none at all, as reported by the division commanders, -Ostermann and Sedmoretzki, and all that the peasants had has been -eaten up. I myself will remain in hospital at Ostrolenka till I -recover. In regard to which I humbly submit my report, with the -information that if the army remains in its present bivouac another -fortnight there will not be a healthy man left in it by spring. - -"'Grant leave to retire to his country seat to an old man who is -already in any case dishonored by being unable to fulfill the great -and glorious task for which he was chosen. I shall await your most -gracious permission here in hospital, that I may not have to play -the part of a secretary rather than commander in the army. My -removal from the army does not produce the slightest stir- a blind man -has left it. There are thousands such as I in Russia.' - -"The field marshal is angry with the Emperor and he punishes us all, -isn't it logical? - -"This is the first act. Those that follow are naturally increasingly -interesting and entertaining. After the field marshal's departure it -appears that we are within sight of the enemy and must give battle. -Buxhowden is commander in chief by seniority, but General Bennigsen -does not quite see it; more particularly as it is he and his corps who -are within sight of the enemy and he wishes to profit by the -opportunity to fight a battle 'on his own hand' as the Germans say. He -does so. This is the battle of Pultusk, which is considered a great -victory but in my opinion was nothing of the kind. We civilians, as -you know, have a very bad way of deciding whether a battle was won -or lost. Those who retreat after a battle have lost it is what we say; -and according to that it is we who lost the battle of Pultusk. In -short, we retreat after the battle but send a courier to Petersburg -with news of a victory, and General Bennigsen, hoping to receive -from Petersburg the post of commander in chief as a reward for his -victory, does not give up the command of the army to General -Buxhowden. During this interregnum we begin a very original and -interesting series of maneuvers. Our aim is no longer, as it should -be, to avoid or attack the enemy, but solely to avoid General -Buxhowden who by right of seniority should be our chief. So -energetically do we pursue this aim that after crossing an -unfordable river we burn the bridges to separate ourselves from our -enemy, who at the moment is not Bonaparte but Buxhowden. General -Buxhowden was all but attacked and captured by a superior enemy -force as a result of one of these maneuvers that enabled us to -escape him. Buxhowden pursues us- we scuttle. He hardly crosses the -river to our side before we recross to the other. At last our enemy. -Buxhowden, catches us and attacks. Both generals are angry, and the -result is a challenge on Buxhowden's part and an epileptic fit on -Bennigsen's. But at the critical moment the courier who carried the -news of our victory at Pultusk to Petersburg returns bringing our -appointment as commander in chief, and our first foe, Buxhowden, is -vanquished; we can now turn our thoughts to the second, Bonaparte. But -as it turns out, just at that moment a third enemy rises before us- -namely the Orthodox Russian soldiers, loudly demanding bread, meat, -biscuits, fodder, and whatnot! The stores are empty, the roads -impassable. The Orthodox begin looting, and in a way of which our last -campaign can give you no idea. Half the regiments form bands and scour -the countryside and put everything to fire and sword. The -inhabitants are totally ruined, the hospitals overflow with sick, -and famine is everywhere. Twice the marauders even attack our -headquarters, and the commander in chief has to ask for a battalion to -disperse them. During one of these attacks they carried off my empty -portmanteau and my dressing gown. The Emperor proposes to give all -commanders of divisions the right to shoot marauders, but I much -fear this will oblige one half the army to shoot the other." - -At first Prince Andrew read with his eyes only, but after a while, -in spite of himself (although he knew how far it was safe to trust -Bilibin), what he had read began to interest him more and more. When -he had read thus far, he crumpled the letter up and threw it away. -It was not what he had read that vexed him, but the fact that the life -out there in which he had now no part could perturb him. He shut his -eyes, rubbed his forehead as if to rid himself of all interest in what -he had read, and listened to what was passing in the nursery. Suddenly -he thought he heard a strange noise through the door. He was seized -with alarm lest something should have happened to the child while he -was reading the letter. He went on tiptoe to the nursery door and -opened it. - -Just as he went in he saw that the nurse was hiding something from -him with a scared look and that Princess Mary was no longer by the -cot. - -"My dear," he heard what seemed to him her despairing whisper behind -him. - -As often happens after long sleeplessness and long anxiety, he was -seized by an unreasoning panic- it occurred to him that the child -was dead. All that he saw and heard seemed to confirm this terror. - -"All is over," he thought, and a cold sweat broke out on his -forehead. He went to the cot in confusion, sure that he would find -it empty and that the nurse had been hiding the dead baby. He drew the -curtain aside and for some time his frightened, restless eyes could -not find the baby. At last he saw him: the rosy boy had tossed about -till he lay across the bed with his head lower than the pillow, and -was smacking his lips in his sleep and breathing evenly. - -Prince Andrew was as glad to find the boy like that, as if he had -already lost him. He bent over him and, as his sister had taught -him, tried with his lips whether the child was still feverish. The -soft forehead was moist. Prince Andrew touched the head with his hand; -even the hair was wet, so profusely had the child perspired. He was -not dead, but evidently the crisis was over and he was convalescent. -Prince Andrew longed to snatch up, to squeeze, to hold to his heart, -this helpless little creature, but dared not do so. He stood over him, -gazing at his head and at the little arms and legs which showed -under the blanket. He heard a rustle behind him and a shadow -appeared under the curtain of the cot. He did not look round, but -still gazing at the infant's face listened to his regular breathing. -The dark shadow was Princess Mary, who had come up to the cot with -noiseless steps, lifted the curtain, and dropped it again behind -her. Prince Andrew recognized her without looking and held out his -hand to her. She pressed it. - -"He has perspired," said Prince Andrew. - -"I was coming to tell you so." - -The child moved slightly in his sleep, smiled, and rubbed his -forehead against the pillow. - -Prince Andrew looked at his sister. In the dim shadow of the curtain -her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy -that were in them. She leaned over to her brother and kissed him, -slightly catching the curtain of the cot. Each made the other a -warning gesture and stood still in the dim light beneath the curtain -as if not wishing to leave that seclusion where they three were shut -off from all the world. Prince Andrew was the first to move away, -ruffling his hair against the muslin of the curtain. - -"Yes, this is the one thing left me now," he said with a sigh. - -CHAPTER X - -Soon after his admission to the Masonic Brotherhood, Pierre went -to the Kiev province, where he had the greatest number of serfs, -taking with him full directions which he had written down for his -own guidance as to what he should do on his estates. - -When he reached Kiev he sent for all his stewards to the head office -and explained to them his intentions and wishes. He told them that -steps would be taken immediately to free his serfs- and that till then -they were not to be overburdened with labor, women while nursing their -babies were not to be sent to work, assistance was to be given to -the serfs, punishments were to be admonitory and not corporal, and -hospitals, asylums, and schools were to be established on all the -estates. Some of the stewards (there were semiliterate foremen among -them) listened with alarm, supposing these words to mean that the -young count was displeased with their management and embezzlement of -money, some after their first fright were amused by Pierre's lisp -and the new words they had not heard before, others simply enjoyed -hearing how the master talked, while the cleverest among them, -including the chief steward, understood from this speech how they -could best handle the master for their own ends. - -The chief steward expressed great sympathy with Pierre's intentions, -but remarked that besides these changes it would be necessary to go -into the general state of affairs which was far from satisfactory. - -Despite Count Bezukhov's enormous wealth, since he had come into -an income which was said to amount to five hundred thousand rubles a -year, Pierre felt himself far poorer than when his father had made him -an allowance of ten thousand rubles. He had a dim perception of the -following budget: - -About 80,000 went in payments on all the estates to the Land Bank, -about 30,000 went for the upkeep of the estate near Moscow, the town -house, and the allowance to the three princesses; about 15,000 was -given in pensions and the same amount for asylums; 150,000 alimony was -sent to the countess; about 70,00 went for interest on debts. The -building of a new church, previously begun, had cost about 10,000 in -each of the last two years, and he did not know how the rest, about -100,000 rubles, was spent, and almost every year he was obliged to -borrow. Besides this the chief steward wrote every year telling him of -fires and bad harvests, or of the necessity of rebuilding factories -and workshops. So the first task Pierre had to face was one for -which he had very little aptitude or inclination- practical business. - -He discussed estate affairs every day with his chief steward. But he -felt that this did not forward matters at all. He felt that these -consultations were detached from real affairs and did not link up with -them or make them move. On the one hand, the chief steward put the -state of things to him in the very worst light, pointing out the -necessity of paying off the debts and undertaking new activities -with serf labor, to which Pierre did not agree. On the other hand, -Pierre demanded that steps should be taken to liberate the serfs, -which the steward met by showing the necessity of first paying off the -loans from the Land Bank, and the consequent impossibility of a speedy -emancipation. - -The steward did not say it was quite impossible, but suggested -selling the forests in the province of Kostroma, the land lower down -the river, and the Crimean estate, in order to make it possible: all -of which operations according to him were connected with such -complicated measures- the removal of injunctions, petitions, -permits, and so on- that Pierre became quite bewildered and only -replied: - -"Yes, yes, do so." - -Pierre had none of the practical persistence that would have enabled -him to attend to the business himself and so he disliked it and only -tried to pretend to the steward that he was attending to it. The -steward for his part tried to pretend to the count that he -considered these consultations very valuable for the proprietor and -troublesome to himself. - -In Kiev Pierre found some people he knew, and strangers hastened -to make his acquaintance and joyfully welcomed the rich newcomer, -the largest landowner of the province. Temptations to Pierre's -greatest weakness- the one to which he had confessed when admitted -to the Lodge- were so strong that he could not resist them. Again -whole days, weeks, and months of his life passed in as great a rush -and were as much occupied with evening parties, dinners, lunches, -and balls, giving him no time for reflection, as in Petersburg. -Instead of the new life he had hoped to lead he still lived the old -life, only in new surroundings. - -Of the three precepts of Freemasonry Pierre realized that he did not -fulfill the one which enjoined every Mason to set an example of -moral life, and that of the seven virtues he lacked two- morality -and the love of death. He consoled himself with the thought that he -fulfilled another of the precepts- that of reforming the human race- -and had other virtues- love of his neighbor, and especially -generosity. - -In the spring of 1807 he decided to return to Petersburg. On the way -he intended to visit all his estates and see for himself how far his -orders had been carried out and in what state were the serfs whom -God had entrusted to his care and whom he intended to benefit. - -The chief steward, who considered the young count's attempts -almost insane- unprofitable to himself, to the count, and to the -serfs- made some concessions. Continuing to represent the liberation -of the serfs as impracticable, he arranged for the erection of large -buildings- schools, hospitals, and asylums- on all the estates -before the master arrived. Everywhere preparations were made not for -ceremonious welcomes (which he knew Pierre would not like), but for -just such gratefully religious ones, with offerings of icons and the -bread and salt of hospitality, as, according to his understanding of -his master, would touch and delude him. - -The southern spring, the comfortable rapid traveling in a Vienna -carriage, and the solitude of the road, all had a gladdening effect on -Pierre. The estates he had not before visited were each more -picturesque than the other; the serfs everywhere seemed thriving and -touchingly grateful for the benefits conferred on them. Everywhere -were receptions, which though they embarrassed Pierre awakened a -joyful feeling in the depth of his heart. In one place the peasants -presented him with bread and salt and an icon of Saint Peter and Saint -Paul, asking permission, as a mark of their gratitude for the benefits -he had conferred on them, to build a new chantry to the church at -their own expense in honor of Peter and Paul, his patron saints. In -another place the women with infants in arms met him to thank him -for releasing them from hard work. On a third estate the priest, -bearing a cross, came to meet him surrounded by children whom, by -the count's generosity, he was instructing in reading, writing, and -religion. On all his estates Pierre saw with his own eyes brick -buildings erected or in course of erection, all on one plan, for -hospitals, schools, and almshouses, which were soon to be opened. -Everywhere he saw the stewards' accounts, according to which the -serfs' manorial labor had been diminished, and heard the touching -thanks of deputations of serfs in their full-skirted blue coats. - -What Pierre did not know was that the place where they presented him -with bread and salt and wished to build a chantry in honor of Peter -and Paul was a market village where a fair was held on St. Peter's -day, and that the richest peasants (who formed the deputation) had -begun the chantry long before, but that nine tenths of the peasants in -that villages were in a state of the greatest poverty. He did not know -that since the nursing mothers were no longer sent to work on his -land, they did still harder work on their own land. He did not know -that the priest who met him with the cross oppressed the peasants by -his exactions, and that the pupils' parents wept at having to let -him take their children and secured their release by heavy payments. -He did not know that the brick buildings, built to plan, were being -built by serfs whose manorial labor was thus increased, though -lessened on paper. He did not know that where the steward had shown -him in the accounts that the serfs' payments had been diminished by -a third, their obligatory manorial work had been increased by a -half. And so Pierre was delighted with his visit to his estates and -quite recovered the philanthropic mood in which he had left -Petersburg, and wrote enthusiastic letters to his "brother-instructor" -as he called the Grand Master. - -"How easy it is, how little effort it needs, to do so much good," -thought Pierre, "and how little attention we pay to it!" - -He was pleased at the gratitude he received, but felt abashed at -receiving it. This gratitude reminded him of how much more he might do -for these simple, kindly people. - -The chief steward, a very stupid but cunning man who saw perfectly -through the naive and intelligent count and played with him as with -a toy, seeing the effect these prearranged receptions had on Pierre, -pressed him still harder with proofs of the impossibility and above -all the uselessness of freeing the serfs, who were quite happy as it -was. - -Pierre in his secret soul agreed with the steward that it would be -difficult to imagine happier people, and that God only knew what would -happen to them when they were free, but he insisted, though -reluctantly, on what he thought right. The steward promised to do -all in his power to carry out the count's wishes, seeing clearly -that not only would the count never be able to find out whether all -measures had been taken for the sale of the land and forests and to -release them from the Land Bank, but would probably never even inquire -and would never know that the newly erected buildings were standing -empty and that the serfs continued to give in money and work all -that other people's serfs gave- that is to say, all that could be -got out of them. - -CHAPTER XI - -Returning from his journey through South Russia in the happiest -state of mind, Pierre carried out an intention he had long had of -visiting his friend Bolkonski, whom he had not seen for two years. - -Bogucharovo lay in a flat uninteresting part of the country among -fields and forests of fir and birch, which were partly cut down. The -house lay behind a newly dug pond filled with water to the brink and -with banks still bare of grass. It was at the end of a village that -stretched along the highroad in the midst of a young copse in which -were a few fir trees. - -The homestead consisted of a threshing floor, outhouses, stables, -a bathhouse, a lodge, and a large brick house with semicircular facade -still in course of construction. Round the house was a garden newly -laid out. The fences and gates were new and solid; two fire pumps -and a water cart, painted green, stood in a shed; the paths were -straight, the bridges were strong and had handrails. Everything bore -an impress of tidiness and good management. Some domestic serfs Pierre -met, in reply to inquiries as to where the prince lived, pointed out a -small newly built lodge close to the pond. Anton, a man who had looked -after Prince Andrew in his boyhood, helped Pierre out of his carriage, -said that the prince was at home, and showed him into a clean little -anteroom. - -Pierre was struck by the modesty of the small though clean house -after the brilliant surroundings in which he had last met his friend -in Petersburg. - -He quickly entered the small reception room with its -still-unplastered wooden walls redolent of pine, and would have gone -farther, but Anton ran ahead on tiptoe and knocked at a door. - -"Well, what is it?" came a sharp, unpleasant voice. - -"A visitor," answered Anton. - -"Ask him to wait," and the sound was heard of a chair being pushed -back. - -Pierre went with rapid steps to the door and suddenly came face to -face with Prince Andrew, who came out frowning and looking old. Pierre -embraced him and lifting his spectacles kissed his friend on the cheek -and looked at him closely. - -"Well, I did not expect you, I am very glad," said Prince Andrew. - -Pierre said nothing; he looked fixedly at his friend with -surprise. He was struck by the change in him. His words were kindly -and there was a smile on his lips and face, but his eyes were dull and -lifeless and in spite of his evident wish to do so he could not give -them a joyous and glad sparkle. Prince Andrew had grown thinner, -paler, and more manly-looking, but what amazed and estranged Pierre -till he got used to it were his inertia and a wrinkle on his brow -indicating prolonged concentration on some one thought. - -As is usually the case with people meeting after a prolonged -separation, it was long before their conversation could settle on -anything. They put questions and gave brief replies about things -they knew ought to be talked over at length. At last the -conversation gradually settled on some of the topics at first -lightly touched on: their past life, plans for the future, Pierre's -journeys and occupations, the war, and so on. The preoccupation and -despondency which Pierre had noticed in his friend's look was now -still more clearly expressed in the smile with which he listened to -Pierre, especially when he spoke with joyful animation of the past -or the future. It was as if Prince Andrew would have liked to -sympathize with what Pierre was saying, but could not. The latter -began to feel that it was in bad taste to speak of his enthusiasms, -dreams, and hopes of happiness or goodness, in Prince Andrew's -presence. He was ashamed to express his new Masonic views, which had -been particularly revived and strengthened by his late tour. He -checked himself, fearing to seem naive, yet he felt an irresistible -desire to show his friend as soon as possible that he was now a -quite different, and better, Pierre than he had been in Petersburg. - -"I can't tell you how much I have lived through since then. I hardly -know myself again." - -"Yes, we have altered much, very much, since then," said Prince -Andrew. - -"Well, and you? What are your plans?" - -"Plans!" repeated Prince Andrew ironically. "My plans?" he said, -as if astonished at the word. "Well, you see, I'm building. I mean -to settle here altogether next year...." - -Pierre looked silently and searchingly into Prince Andrew's face, -which had grown much older. - -"No, I meant to ask..." Pierre began, but Prince Andrew -interrupted him. - -"But why talk of me?... Talk to me, yes, tell me about your -travels and all you have been doing on your estates." - -Pierre began describing what he had done on his estates, trying as -far as possible to conceal his own part in the improvements that had -been made. Prince Andrew several times prompted Pierre's story of what -he had been doing, as though it were all an old-time story, and he -listened not only without interest but even as if ashamed of what -Pierre was telling him. - -Pierre felt uncomfortable and even depressed in his friend's company -and at last became silent. - -"I'll tell you what, my dear fellow," said Prince Andrew, who -evidently also felt depressed and constrained with his visitor, "I -am only bivouacking here and have just come to look round. I am -going back to my sister today. I will introduce you to her. But of -course you know her already," he said, evidently trying to entertain a -visitor with whom he now found nothing in common. "We will go after -dinner. And would you now like to look round my place?" - -They went out and walked about till dinnertime, talking of the -political news and common acquaintances like people who do not know -each other intimately. Prince Andrew spoke with some animation and -interest only of the new homestead he was constructing and its -buildings, but even here, while on the scaffolding, in the midst of -a talk explaining the future arrangements of the house, he interrupted -himself: - -"However, this is not at all interesting. Let us have dinner, and -then we'll set off." - -At dinner, conversation turned on Pierre's marriage. - -"I was very much surprised when I heard of it," said Prince Andrew. - -Pierre blushed, as he always did when it was mentioned, and said -hurriedly: "I will tell you some time how it all happened. But you -know it is all over, and forever." - -"Forever?" said Prince Andrew. "Nothing's forever." - -"But you know how it all ended, don't you? You heard of the duel?" - -"And so you had to go through that too!" - -"One thing I thank God for is that I did not kill that man," said -Pierre. - -"Why so?" asked Prince Andrew. "To kill a vicious dog is a very good -thing really." - -"No, to kill a man is bad- wrong." - -"Why is it wrong?" urged Prince Andrew. "It is not given to man to -know what is right and what is wrong. Men always did and always will -err, and in nothing more than in what they consider right and wrong." - -"What does harm to another is wrong," said Pierre, feeling with -pleasure that for the first time since his arrival Prince Andrew was -roused, had begun to talk, and wanted to express what had brought -him to his present state. - -"And who has told you what is bad for another man?" he asked. - -"Bad! Bad!" exclaimed Pierre. "We all know what is bad for -ourselves." - -"Yes, we know that, but the harm I am conscious of in myself is -something I cannot inflict on others," said Prince Andrew, growing -more and more animated and evidently wishing to express his new -outlook to Pierre. He spoke in French. "I only know two very real -evils in life: remorse and illness. The only good is the absence of -those evils. To live for myself avoiding those two evils is my whole -philosophy now." - -"And love of one's neighbor, and self-sacrifice?" began Pierre. "No, -I can't agree with you! To live only so as not to do evil and not to -have to repent is not enough. I lived like that, I lived for myself -and ruined my life. And only now when I am living, or at least trying" -(Pierre's modesty made him correct himself) "to live for others, -only now have I understood all the happiness of life. No, I shall -not agree with you, and you do not really believe what you are -saying." Prince Andrew looked silently at Pierre with an ironic smile. - -"When you see my sister, Princess Mary, you'll get on with her," -he said. "Perhaps you are right for yourself," he added after a -short pause, "but everyone lives in his own way. You lived for -yourself and say you nearly ruined your life and only found -happiness when you began living for others. I experienced just the -reverse. I lived for glory.- And after all what is glory? The same -love of others, a desire to do something for them, a desire for -their approval.- So I lived for others, and not almost, but quite, -ruined my life. And I have become calmer since I began to live only -for myself." - -"But what do you mean by living only for yourself?" asked Pierre, -growing excited. "What about your son, your sister, and your father?" - -"But that's just the same as myself- they are not others," explained -Prince Andrew. "The others, one's neighbors, le prochain, as you and -Princess Mary call it, are the chief source of all error and evil. -Le prochain- your Kiev peasants to whom you want to do good." - -And he looked at Pierre with a mocking, challenging expression. He -evidently wished to draw him on. - -"You are joking," replied Pierre, growing more and more excited. -"What error or evil can there be in my wishing to do good, and even -doing a little- though I did very little and did it very badly? What -evil can there be in it if unfortunate people, our serfs, people -like ourselves, were growing up and dying with no idea of God and -truth beyond ceremonies and meaningless prayers and are now instructed -in a comforting belief in future life, retribution, recompense, and -consolation? What evil and error are there in it, if people were dying -of disease without help while material assistance could so easily be -rendered, and I supplied them with a doctor, a hospital, and an asylum -for the aged? And is it not a palpable, unquestionable good if a -peasant, or a woman with a baby, has no rest day or night and I give -them rest and leisure?" said Pierre, hurrying and lisping. "And I have -done that though badly and to a small extent; but I have done -something toward it and you cannot persuade me that it was not a -good action, and more than that, you can't make me believe that you do -not think so yourself. And the main thing is," he continued, "that I -know, and know for certain, that the enjoyment of doing this good is -the only sure happiness in life." - -"Yes, if you put it like that it's quite a different matter," said -Prince Andrew. "I build a house and lay out a garden, and you build -hospitals. The one and the other may serve as a pastime. But what's -right and what's good must be judged by one who knows all, but not -by us. Well, you want an argument," he added, come on then." - -They rose from the table and sat down in the entrance porch which -served as a veranda. - -"Come, let's argue then," said Prince Andrew, "You talk of schools," -he went on, crooking a finger, "education and so forth; that is, you -want to raise him" (pointing to a peasant who passed by them taking -off his cap) "from his animal condition and awaken in him spiritual -needs, while it seems to me that animal happiness is the only -happiness possible, and that is just what you want to deprive him -of. I envy him, but you want to make him what I am, without giving him -my means. Then you say, 'lighten his toil.' But as I see it, -physical labor is as essential to him, as much a condition of his -existence, as mental activity is to you or me. You can't help -thinking. I go to bed after two in the morning, thoughts come and I -can't sleep but toss about till dawn, because I think and can't help -thinking, just as he can't help plowing and mowing; if he didn't, he -would go to the drink shop or fall ill. Just as I could not stand -his terrible physical labor but should die of it in a week, so he -could not stand my physical idleness, but would grow fat and die. -The third thing- what else was it you talked about?" and Prince Andrew -crooked a third finger. "Ah, yes, hospitals, medicine. He has a fit, -he is dying, and you come and bleed him and patch him up. He will drag -about as a cripple, a burden to everybody, for another ten years. It -would be far easier and simpler for him to die. Others are being -born and there are plenty of them as it is. It would be different if -you grudged losing a laborer- that's how I regard him- but you want to -cure him from love of him. And he does not want that. And besides, -what a notion that medicine ever cured anyone! Killed them, yes!" said -he, frowning angrily and turning away from Pierre. - -Prince Andrew expressed his ideas so clearly and distinctly that -it was evident he had reflected on this subject more than once, and he -spoke readily and rapidly like a man who has not talked for a long -time. His glance became more animated as his conclusions became more -hopeless. - -"Oh, that is dreadful, dreadful!" said Pierre. "I don't understand -how one can live with such ideas. I had such moments myself not long -ago, in Moscow and when traveling, but at such times I collapsed so -that I don't live at all- everything seems hateful to me... myself - -most of all. Then I don't eat, don't wash... and how is it with -you?..." - -"Why not wash? That is not cleanly," said Prince Andrew; "on the -contrary one must try to make one's life as pleasant as possible. -I'm alive, that is not my fault, so I must live out my life as best -I can without hurting others." - -"But with such ideas what motive have you for living? One would -sit without moving, undertaking nothing...." - -"Life as it is leaves one no peace. I should be thankful to do -nothing, but here on the one hand the local nobility have done me -the honor to choose me to be their marshal; it was all I could do to -get out of it. They could not understand that I have not the necessary -qualifications for it- the kind of good-natured, fussy shallowness -necessary for the position. Then there's this house, which must be -built in order to have a nook of one's own in which to be quiet. And -now there's this recruiting." - -"Why aren't you serving in the army?" - -"After Austerlitz!" said Prince Andrew gloomily. "No, thank you very -much! I have promised myself not to serve again in the active -Russian army. And I won't- not even if Bonaparte were here at Smolensk -threatening Bald Hills- even then I wouldn't serve in the Russian -army! Well, as I was saying," he continued, recovering his -composure, "now there's this recruiting. My father is chief in command -of the Third District, and my only way of avoiding active service is -to serve under him." - -"Then you are serving?" - -"I am." - -He paused a little while. - -"And why do you serve?" - -"Why, for this reason! My father is one of the most remarkable men -of his time. But he is growing old, and though not exactly cruel he -has too energetic a character. He is so accustomed to unlimited -power that he is terrible, and now he has this authority of a -commander in chief of the recruiting, granted by the Emperor. If I had -been two hours late a fortnight ago he would have had a paymaster's -clerk at Yukhnovna hanged," said Prince Andrew with a smile. "So I -am serving because I alone have any influence with my father, and -now and then can save him from actions which would torment him -afterwards." - -"Well, there you see!" - -"Yes, but it is not as you imagine," Prince Andrew continued. "I did -not, and do not, in the least care about that scoundrel of a clerk who -had stolen some boots from the recruits; I should even have been -very glad to see him hanged, but I was sorry for my father- that again -is for myself." - -Prince Andrew grew more and more animated. His eyes glittered -feverishly while he tried to prove to Pierre that in his actions there -was no desire to do good to his neighbor. - -"There now, you wish to liberate your serfs," he continued; "that is -a very good thing, but not for you- I don't suppose you ever had -anyone flogged or sent to Siberia- and still less for your serfs. If -they are beaten, flogged, or sent to Siberia, I don't suppose they are -any the worse off. In Siberia they lead the same animal life, and -the stripes on their bodies heal, and they are happy as before. But it -is a good thing for proprietors who perish morally, bring remorse upon -themselves, stifle this remorse and grow callous, as a result of being -able to inflict punishments justly and unjustly. It is those people -I pity, and for their sake I should like to liberate the serfs. You -may not have seen, but I have seen, how good men brought up in those -traditions of unlimited power, in time when they grow more -irritable, become cruel and harsh, are conscious of it, but cannot -restrain themselves and grow more and more miserable." - -Prince Andrew spoke so earnestly that Pierre could not help thinking -that these thoughts had been suggested to Prince Andrew by his -father's case. - -He did not reply. - -"So that's what I'm sorry for- human dignity, peace of mind, purity, -and not the serfs' backs and foreheads, which, beat and shave as you -may, always remain the same backs and foreheads." - -"No, no! A thousand times no! I shall never agree with you," said -Pierre. - -CHAPTER XII - -In the evening Andrew and Pierre got into the open carriage and -drove to Bald Hills. Prince Andrew, glancing at Pierre, broke the -silence now and then with remarks which showed that he was in a good -temper. - -Pointing to the fields, he spoke of the improvements he was making -in his husbandry. - -Pierre remained gloomily silent, answering in monosyllables and -apparently immersed in his own thoughts. - -He was thinking that Prince Andrew was unhappy, had gone astray, did -not see the true light, and that he, Pierre, ought to aid, -enlighten, and raise him. But as soon as he thought of what he -should say, he felt that Prince Andrew with one word, one argument, -would upset all his teaching, and he shrank from beginning, afraid -of exposing to possible ridicule what to him was precious and sacred. - -"No, but why do you think so?" Pierre suddenly began, lowering his -head and looking like a bull about to charge, "why do you think so? -You should not think so." - -"Think? What about?" asked Prince Andrew with surprise. - -"About life, about man's destiny. It can't be so. I myself thought -like that, and do you know what saved me? Freemasonry! No, don't -smile. Freemasonry is not a religious ceremonial sect, as I thought it -was: Freemasonry is the best expression of the best, the eternal, -aspects of humanity." - -And he began to explain Freemasonry as he understood it to Prince -Andrew. He said that Freemasonry is the teaching of Christianity freed -from the bonds of State and Church, a teaching of equality, -brotherhood, and love. - -"Only our holy brotherhood has the real meaning of life, all the -rest is a dream," said Pierre. "Understand, my dear fellow, that -outside this union all is filled with deceit and falsehood and I agree -with you that nothing is left for an intelligent and good man but to -live out his life, like you, merely trying not to harm others. But -make our fundamental convictions your own, join our brotherhood, -give yourself up to us, let yourself be guided, and you will at once -feel yourself, as I have felt myself, a part of that vast invisible -chain the beginning of which is hidden in heaven," said Pierre. - -Prince Andrew, looking straight in front of him, listened in silence -to Pierre's words. More than once, when the noise of the wheels -prevented his catching what Pierre said, he asked him to repeat it, -and by the peculiar glow that came into Prince Andrew's eyes and by -his silence, Pierre saw that his words were not in vain and that -Prince Andrew would not interrupt him or laugh at what he said. - -They reached a river that had overflowed its banks and which they -had to cross by ferry. While the carriage and horses were being placed -on it, they also stepped on the raft. - -Prince Andrew, leaning his arms on the raft railing, gazed -silently at the flooding waters glittering in the setting sun. - -"Well, what do you think about it?" Pierre asked. "Why are you -silent?" - -"What do I think about it? I am listening to you. It's all very -well.... You say: join our brotherhood and we will show you the aim of -life, the destiny of man, and the laws which govern the world. But who -are we? Men. How is it you know everything? Why do I alone not see -what you see? You see a reign of goodness and truth on earth, but I -don't see it." - -Pierre interrupted him. - -"Do you believe in a future life?" he asked. - -"A future life?" Prince Andrew repeated, but Pierre, giving him no -time to reply, took the repetition for a denial, the more readily as -he knew Prince Andrew's former atheistic convictions. - -"You say you can't see a reign of goodness and truth on earth. Nor -could I, and it cannot be seen if one looks on our life here as the -end of everything. On earth, here on this earth" (Pierre pointed to -the fields), "there is no truth, all is false and evil; but in the -universe, in the whole universe there is a kingdom of truth, and we -who are now the children of earth are- eternally- children of the -whole universe. Don't I feel in my soul that I am part of this vast -harmonious whole? Don't I feel that I form one link, one step, between -the lower and higher beings, in this vast harmonious multitude of -beings in whom the Deity- the Supreme Power if you prefer the term- is -manifest? If I see, clearly see, that ladder leading from plant to -man, why should I suppose it breaks off at me and does not go -farther and farther? I feel that I cannot vanish, since nothing -vanishes in this world, but that I shall always exist and always -have existed. I feel that beyond me and above me there are spirits, -and that in this world there is truth." - -"Yes, that is Herder's theory," said Prince Andrew, "but it is not -that which can convince me, dear friend- life and death are what -convince. What convinces is when one sees a being dear to one, bound -up with one's own life, before whom one was to blame and had hoped -to make it right" (Prince Andrew's voice trembled and he turned away), -"and suddenly that being is seized with pain, suffers, and ceases to -exist.... Why? It cannot be that there is no answer. And I believe -there is.... That's what convinces, that is what has convinced me," -said Prince Andrew. - -"Yes, yes, of course," said Pierre, "isn't that what I'm saying?" - -"No. All I say is that it is not argument that convinces me of the -necessity of a future life, but this: when you go hand in hand with -someone and all at once that person vanishes there, into nowhere, -and you yourself are left facing that abyss, and look in. And I have -looked in...." - -"Well, that's it then! You know that there is a there and there is a -Someone? There is the future life. The Someone is- God." - -Prince Andrew did not reply. The carriage and horses had long -since been taken off, onto the farther bank, and reharnessed. The -sun had sunk half below the horizon and an evening frost was -starring the puddles near the ferry, but Pierre and Andrew, to the -astonishment of the footmen, coachmen, and ferrymen, still stood on -the raft and talked. - -"If there is a God and future life, there is truth and good, and -man's highest happiness consists in striving to attain them. We must -live, we must love, and we must believe that we live not only today on -this scrap of earth, but have lived and shall live forever, there, -in the Whole," said Pierre, and he pointed to the sky. - -Prince Andrew stood leaning on the railing of the raft listening -to Pierre, and he gazed with his eyes fixed on the red reflection of -the sun gleaming on the blue waters. There was perfect stillness. -Pierre became silent. The raft had long since stopped and only the -waves of the current beat softly against it below. Prince Andrew -felt as if the sound of the waves kept up a refrain to Pierre's words, -whispering: - -"It is true, believe it." - -He sighed, and glanced with a radiant, childlike, tender look at -Pierre's face, flushed and rapturous, but yet shy before his -superior friend. - -"Yes, if it only were so!" said Prince Andrew. "However, it is -time to get on," he added, and, stepping off the raft, he looked up at -the sky to which Pierre had pointed, and for the first time since -Austerlitz saw that high, everlasting sky he had seen while lying on -that battlefield; and something that had long been slumbering, -something that was best within him, suddenly awoke, joyful and -youthful, in his soul. It vanished as soon as he returned to the -customary conditions of his life, but he knew that this feeling -which he did not know how to develop existed within him. His meeting -with Pierre formed an epoch in Prince Andrew's life. Though -outwardly he continued to live in the same old way, inwardly he -began a new life. - -CHAPTER XIII - -It was getting dusk when Prince Andrew and Pierre drove up to the -front entrance of the house at Bald Hills. As they approached the -house, Prince Andrew with asmile drew Pierre's attention to a -commotion going on at the back porch. A woman, bent with age, with a -wallet on her back, and a short, long-haired, young man in a black -garment had rushed back to the gate on seeing the carriage driving up. -Two women ran out after them, and all four, looking round at the -carriage, ran in dismay up the steps of the back porch. - -"Those are Mary's 'God's folk,'" said Prince Andrew. "They have -mistaken us for my father. This is the one matter in which she -disobeys him. He orders these pilgrims to be driven away, but she -receives them." - -"But what are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. - -Prince Andrew had no time to answer. The servants came out to meet -them, and he asked where the old prince was and whether he was -expected back soon. - -The old prince had gone to the town and was expected back any -minute. - -Prince Andrew led Pierre to his own apartments, which were always -kept in perfect order and readiness for him in his father's house; -he himself went to the nursery. - -"Let us go and see my sister," he said to Pierre when he returned. -"I have not found her yet, she is hiding now, sitting with her -'God's folk.' It will serve her right, she will be confused, but you -will see her 'God's folk.' It's really very curious." - -"What are 'God's folk'?" asked Pierre. - -"Come, and you'll see for yourself." - -Princess Mary really was disconcerted and red patches came on her -face when they went in. In her snug room, with lamps burning before -the icon stand, a young lad with a long nose and long hair, wearing -a monk's cassock, sat on the sofa beside her, behind a samovar. Near -them, in an armchair, sat a thin, shriveled, old woman, with a meek -expression on her childlike face. - -"Andrew, why didn't you warn me?" said the princess, with mild -reproach, as she stood before her pilgrims like a hen before her -chickens. - -"Charmee de vous voir. Je suis tres contente de vous voir,"~{ "Delighted to see you. I am very glad to see you." }~ she -said to Pierre as he kissed her hand. She had known him as a child, -and now his friendship with Andrew, his misfortune with his wife, -and above all his kindly, simple face disposed her favorably toward -him. She looked at him with her beautiful radiant eyes and seemed to -say, "I like you very much, but please don't laugh at my people." -After exchanging the first greetings, they sat down. - -"Ah, and Ivanushka is here too!" said Prince Andrew, glancing with a -smile at the young pilgrim. - -"Andrew!" said Princess Mary, imploringly. "Il faut que vous sachiez -que c'est une femme,"~{ "You must know that this is a woman." }~ said Prince Andrew to Pierre. - -"Andrew, au nom de Dieu!"~{ "For heaven's sake." }~ Princess Mary repeated. - -It was evident that Prince Andrew's ironical tone toward the -pilgrims and Princess Mary's helpless attempts to protect them were -their customary long-established relations on the matter. - -"Mais, ma bonne amie," said Prince Andrew, "vous devriez au -contraire m'etre reconnaissante de ce que j'explique a Pierre votre -intimite avec ce jeune homme."~{ "But, my dear, you ought on the contrary to be grateful to me for -explaining to Pierre your intimacy with this young man." }~ - -"Really?" said Pierre, gazing over his spectacles with curiosity and -seriousness (for which Princess Mary was specially grateful to him) -into Ivanushka's face, who, seeing that she was being spoken about, -looked round at them all with crafty eyes. - -Princess Mary's embarrassment on her people's account was quite -unnecessary. They were not in the least abashed. The old woman, -lowering her eyes but casting side glances at the newcomers, had -turned her cup upside down and placed a nibbled bit of sugar beside -it, and sat quietly in her armchair, though hoping to be offered -another cup of tea. Ivanushka, sipping out of her saucer, looked -with sly womanish eyes from under her brows at the young men. - -"Where have you been? To Kiev?" Prince Andrew asked the old woman. - -"I have, good sir," she answered garrulously. "Just at Christmastime -I was deemed worthy to partake of the holy and heavenly sacrament at -the shrine of the saint. And now I'm from Kolyazin, master, where a -great and wonderful blessing has been revealed." - -"And was Ivanushka with you?" - -"I go by myself, benefactor," said Ivanushka, trying to speak in a -bass voice. "I only came across Pelageya in Yukhnovo..." - -Pelageya interrupted her companion; she evidently wished to tell -what she had seen. - -"In Kolyazin, master, a wonderful blessing has been revealed." - -"What is it? Some new relics?" asked Prince Andrew. - -"Andrew, do leave off," said Princess Mary. "Don't tell him, -Pelageya." - -"No... why not, my dear, why shouldn't I? I like him. He is kind, he -is one of God's chosen, he's a benefactor, he once gave me ten rubles, -I remember. When I was in Kiev, Crazy Cyril says to me (he's one of -God's own and goes barefoot summer and winter), he says, 'Why are -you not going to the right place? Go to Kolyazin where a -wonder-working icon of the Holy Mother of God has been revealed.' On -hearing those words I said good-by to the holy folk and went." - -All were silent, only the pilgrim woman went on in measured tones, -drawing in her breath. - -"So I come, master, and the people say to me: 'A great blessing -has been revealed, holy oil trickles from the cheeks of our blessed -Mother, the Holy Virgin Mother of God'...." - -"All right, all right, you can tell us afterwards," said Princess -Mary, flushing. - -"Let me ask her," said Pierre. "Did you see it yourselves?" he -inquired. - -"Oh, yes, master, I was found worthy. Such a brightness on the -face like the light of heaven, and from the blessed Mother's cheek -it drops and drops...." - -"But, dear me, that must be a fraud!" said Pierre, naively, who -had listened attentively to the pilgrim. - -"Oh, master, what are you saying?" exclaimed the horrified Pelageya, -turning to Princess Mary for support. - -"They impose on the people," he repeated. - -"Lord Jesus Christ!" exclaimed the pilgrim woman, crossing -herself. "Oh, don't speak so, master! There was a general who did -not believe, and said, 'The monks cheat,' and as soon as he'd said -it he went blind. And he dreamed that the Holy Virgin Mother of the -Kiev catacombs came to him and said, 'Believe in me and I will make -you whole.' So he begged: 'Take me to her, take me to her.' It's the -real truth I'm telling you, I saw it myself. So he was brought, -quite blind, straight to her, and he goes up to her and falls down and -says, 'Make me whole,' says he, 'and I'll give thee what the Tsar -bestowed on me.' I saw it myself, master, the star is fixed into the -icon. Well, and what do you think? He received his sight! It's a sin -to speak so. God will punish you," she said admonishingly, turning -to Pierre. - -"How did the star get into the icon?" Pierre asked. - -"And was the Holy Mother promoted to the rank of general?" said -Prince Andrew, with a smile. - -Pelageya suddenly grew quite pale and clasped her hands. - -"Oh, master, master, what a sin! And you who have a son!" she began, -her pallor suddenly turning to a vivid red. "Master, what have you -said? God forgive you!" And she crossed herself. "Lord forgive him! My -dear, what does it mean?..." she asked, turning to Princess Mary. -She got up and, almost crying, began to arrange her wallet. She -evidently felt frightened and ashamed to have accepted charity in a -house where such things could be said, and was at the same time -sorry to have now to forgo the charity of this house. - -"Now, why need you do it?" said Princess Mary. "Why did you come -to me?..." - -"Come, Pelageya, I was joking," said Pierre. "Princesse, ma -parole, je n'ai pas voulu l'offenser.~{ "Princess, on my word, I did not wish to offend her." }~ I did not mean anything, I -was only joking," he said, smiling shyly and trying to efface his -offense. "It was all my fault, and Andrew was only joking." - -Pelageya stopped doubtfully, but in Pierre's face there was such a -look of sincere penitence, and Prince Andrew glanced so meekly now -at her and now at Pierre, that she was gradually reassured. - -CHAPTER XIV - -The pilgrim woman was appeased and, being encouraged to talk, gave a -long account of Father Amphilochus, who led so holy a life that his -hands smelled of incense, and how on her last visit to Kiev some monks -she knew let her have the keys of the catacombs, and how she, taking -some dried bread with her, had spent two days in the catacombs with -the saints. "I'd pray awhile to one, ponder awhile, then go on to -another. I'd sleep a bit and then again go and kiss the relics, and -there was such peace all around, such blessedness, that one don't want -to come out, even into the light of heaven again." - -Pierre listened to her attentively and seriously. Prince Andrew went -out of the room, and then, leaving "God's folk" to finish their tea, -Princess Mary took Pierre into the drawing room. - -"You are very kind," she said to him. - -"Oh, I really did not mean to hurt her feelings. I understand them -so well and have the greatest respect for them." - -Princess Mary looked at him silently and smiled affectionately. - -"I have known you a long time, you see, and am as fond of you as -of a brother," she said. "How do you find Andrew?" she added -hurriedly, not giving him time to reply to her affectionate words. -"I am very anxious about him. His health was better in the winter, but -last spring his wound reopened and the doctor said he ought to go away -for a cure. And I am also very much afraid for him spiritually. He has -not a character like us women who, when we suffer, can weep away our -sorrows. He keeps it all within him. Today he is cheerful and in -good spirits, but that is the effect of your visit- he is not often -like that. If you could persuade him to go abroad. He needs -activity, and this quiet regular life is very bad for him. Others -don't notice it, but I see it." - -Toward ten o'clock the men servants rushed to the front door, -hearing the bells of the old prince's carriage approaching. Prince -Andrew and Pierre also went out into the porch. - -"Who's that?" asked the old prince, noticing Pierre as he got out -of, the carriage. - -"Ah! Very glad! Kiss me," he said, having learned who the young -stranger was. - -The old prince was in a good temper and very gracious to Pierre. - -Before supper, Prince Andrew, coming back to his father's study, -found him disputing hotly with his visitor. Pierre was maintaining -that a time would come when there would be no more wars. The old -prince disputed it chaffingly, but without getting angry. - -"Drain the blood from men's veins and put in water instead, then -there will be no more war! Old women's nonsense- old women's -nonsense!" he repeated, but still he patted Pierre affectionately on -the shoulder, and then went up to the table where Prince Andrew, -evidently not wishing to join in the conversation, was looking over -the papers his father had brought from town. The old prince went up to -him and began to talk business. - -"The marshal, a Count Rostov, hasn't sent half his contingent. He -came to town and wanted to invite me to dinner- I gave him a pretty -dinner!... And there, look at this.... Well, my boy," the old prince -went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder. "A -fine fellow- your friend- I like him! He stirs me up. Another says -clever things and one doesn't care to listen, but this one talks -rubbish yet stirs an old fellow up. Well, go! Get along! Perhaps -I'll come and sit with you at supper. We'll have another dispute. Make -friends with my little fool, Princess Mary," he shouted after -Pierre, through the door. - -Only now, on his visit to Bald Hills, did Pierre fully realize the -strength and charm of his friendship with Prince Andrew. That charm -was not expressed so much in his relations with him as with all his -family and with the household. With the stern old prince and the -gentle, timid Princess Mary, though he had scarcely known them, Pierre -at once felt like an old friend. They were all fond of him already. -Not only Princess Mary, who had been won by his gentleness with the -pilgrims, gave him her most radiant looks, but even the one-year-old -"Prince Nicholas" (as his grandfather called him) smiled at Pierre and -let himself be taken in his arms, and Michael Ivanovich and -Mademoiselle Bourienne looked at him with pleasant smiles when he -talked to the old prince. - -The old prince came in to supper; this was evidently on Pierre's -account. And during the two days of the young man's visit he was -extremely kind to him and told him to visit them again. - -When Pierre had gone and the members of the household met -together, they began to express their opinions of him as people always -do after a new acquaintance has left, but as seldom happens, no one -said anything but what was good of him. - -CHAPTER XV - -When returning from his leave, Rostov felt, for the first time, -how close was the bond that united him to Denisov and and the whole -regiment. - -On approaching it, Rostov felt as he had done when approaching his -home in Moscow. When he saw the first hussar with the unbuttoned -uniform of his regiment, when he recognized red-haired Dementyev and -saw the picket ropes of the roan horses, when Lavrushka gleefully -shouted to his master, "The count has come!" and Denisov, who had been -asleep on his bed, ran all disheveled out of the mud hut to embrace -him, and the officers collected round to greet the new arrival, Rostov -experienced the same feeling his mother, his father, and his sister -had embraced him, and tears of joy choked him so that he could not -speak. The regiment was also a home, and as unalterably dear and -precious as his parents' house. - -When he had reported himself to the commander of the regiment and -had been reassigned to his former squadron, had been on duty and had -gone out foraging, when he had again entered into all the little -interests of the regiment and felt himself deprived of liberty and -bound in one narrow, unchanging frame, he experienced the same sense -of peace, of moral support, and the same sense being at home here in -his own place, as he had felt under the parental roof. But here was -none of all that turmoil of the world at large, where he did not -know his right place and took mistaken decisions; here was no Sonya -with whom he ought, or ought not, to have an explanation; here was -no possibility of going there or not going there; here there were -not twenty-four hours in the day which could be spent in such a -variety of ways; there was not that innumerable crowd of people of -whom not one was nearer to him or farther from him than another; there -were none of those uncertain and undefined money relations with his -father, and nothing to recall that terrible loss to Dolokhov. Here, in -the regiment, all was clear and simple. The whole world was divided -into two unequal parts: one, our Pavlograd regiment; the other, all -the rest. And the rest was no concern of his. In the regiment, -everything was definite: who was lieutenant, who captain, who was a -good fellow, who a bad one, and most of all, who was a comrade. The -canteenkeeper gave one credit, one's pay came every four months, there -was nothing to think out or decide, you had only to do nothing that -was considered bad in the Pavlograd regiment and, when given an order, -to do what was clearly, distinctly, and definitely ordered- and all -would be well. - -Having once more entered into the definite conditions of this -regimental life, Rostov felt the joy and relief a tired man feels on -lying down to rest. Life in the regiment, during this campaign, was -all the pleasanter for him, because, after his loss to Dolokhov (for -which, in spite of all his family's efforts to console him, he could -not forgive himself), he had made up his mind to atone for his fault -by serving, not as he had done before, but really well, and by being a -perfectly first-rate comrade and officer- in a word, a splendid man -altogether, a thing which seemed so difficult out in the world, but so -possible in the regiment. - -After his losses, he had determined to pay back his debt to his -parents in five years. He received ten thousand rubles a year, but now -resolved to take only two thousand and leave the rest to repay the -debt to his parents. - -Our army, after repeated retreats and advances and battles at -Pultusk and Preussisch-Eylau, was concentrated near Bartenstein. It -was awaiting the Emperor's arrival and the beginning of a new -campaign. - -The Pavlograd regiment, belonging to that part of the army which had -served in the 1805 campaign, had been recruiting up to strength in -Russia, and arrived too late to take part in the first actions of -the campaign. It had been neither at Pultusk nor at Preussisch-Eylau -and, when it joined the army in the field in the second half of the -campaign, was attached to Platov's division. - -Platov's division was acting independently of the main army. Several -times parts of the Pavlograd regiment had exchanged shots with the -enemy, had taken prisoners, and once had even captured Marshal -Oudinot's carriages. In April the Pavlograds were stationed -immovably for some weeks near a totally ruined and deserted German -village. - -A thaw had set in, it was muddy and cold, the ice on the river -broke, and the roads became impassable. For days neither provisions -for the men nor fodder for the horses had been issued. As no -transports could arrive, the men dispersed about the abandoned and -deserted villages, searching for potatoes, but found few even of -these. - -Everything had been eaten up and the inhabitants had all fled- if -any remained, they were worse than beggars and nothing more could be -taken from them; even the soldiers, usually pitiless enough, instead -of taking anything from them, often gave them the last of their -rations. - -The Pavlograd regiment had had only two men wounded in action, but -had lost nearly half its men from hunger and sickness. In the -hospitals, death was so certain that soldiers suffering from fever, or -the swelling that came from bad food, preferred to remain on duty, and -hardly able to drag their legs went to the front rather than to the -hospitals. When spring came on, the soldiers found a plant just -showing out of the ground that looked like asparagus, which, for -some reason, they called "Mashka's sweet root." It was very bitter, -but they wandered about the fields seeking it and dug it out with -their sabers and ate it, though they were ordered not to do so, as -it was a noxious plant. That spring a new disease broke out broke -out among the soldiers, a swelling of the arms, legs, and face, -which the doctors attributed to eating this root. But in spite of -all this, the soldiers of Denisov's squadron fed chiefly on -"Mashka's sweet root," because it was the second week that the last of -the biscuits were being doled out at the rate of half a pound a man -and the last potatoes received had sprouted and frozen. - -The horses also had been fed for a fortnight on straw from the -thatched roofs and had become terribly thin, though still covered with -tufts of felty winter hair. - -Despite this destitution, the soldiers and officers went on living -just as usual. Despite their pale swollen faces and tattered uniforms, -the hussars formed line for roll call, kept things in order, groomed -their horses, polished their arms, brought in straw from the -thatched roofs in place of fodder, and sat down to dine round the -caldrons from which they rose up hungry, joking about their nasty food -and their hunger. As usual, in their spare time, they lit bonfires, -steamed themselves before them naked; smoked, picked out and baked -sprouting rotten potatoes, told and listened to stories of -Potemkin's and Suvorov's campaigns, or to legends of Alesha the Sly, -or the priest's laborer Mikolka. - -The officers, as usual, lived in twos and threes in the roofless, -half-ruined houses. The seniors tried to collect straw and potatoes -and, in general, food for the men. The younger ones occupied -themselves as before, some playing cards (there was plenty of money, -though there was no food), some with more innocent games, such as -quoits and skittles. The general trend of the campaign was rarely -spoken of, partly because nothing certain was known about it, partly -because there was a vague feeling that in the main it was going badly. - -Rostov lived, as before, with Denisov, and since their furlough they -had become more friendly than ever. Denisov never spoke of Rostov's -family, but by the tender friendship his commander showed him, -Rostov felt that the elder hussar's luckless love for Natasha played a -part in strengthening their friendship. Denisov evidently tried to -expose Rostov to danger as seldom as possible, and after an action -greeted his safe return with evident joy. On one of his foraging -expeditions, in a deserted and ruined village to which he had come -in search of provisions, Rostov found a family consisting of an old -Pole and his daughter with an infant in arms. They were half clad, -hungry, too weak to get away on foot and had no means of obtaining a -conveyance. Rostov brought them to his quarters, placed them in his -own lodging, and kept them for some weeks while the old man was -recovering. One of his comrades, talking of women, began chaffing -Rostov, saying that he was more wily than any of them and that it -would not be a bad thing if he introduced to them the pretty Polish -girl he had saved. Rostov took the joke as an insult, flared up, and -said such unpleasant things to the officer that it was all Denisov -could do to prevent a duel. When the officer had gone away, Denisov, -who did not himself know what Rostov's relations with the Polish -girl might be, began to upbraid him for his quickness of temper, and -Rostov replied: - -"Say what you like.... She is like a sister to me, and I can't -tell you how it offended me... because... well, for that reason...." - -Denisov patted him on the shoulder and began rapidly pacing the room -without looking at Rostov, as was his way at moments of deep feeling. - -"Ah, what a mad bweed you Wostovs are!" he muttered, and Rostov -noticed tears in his eyes. - -CHAPTER XVI - -In April the troops were enlivened by news of the Emperor's arrival, -but Rostov had no chance of being present at the review he held at -Bartenstein, as the Pavlograds were at the outposts far beyond that -place. - -They were bivouacking. Denisov and Rostov were living in an earth -hut, dug out for them by the soldiers and roofed with branches and -turf. The hut was made in the following manner, which had then come -into vogue. A trench was dug three and a half feet wide, four feet -eight inches deep, and eight feet long. At one end of the trench, -steps were cut out and these formed the entrance and vestibule. The -trench itself was the room, in which the lucky ones, such as the -squadron commander, had a board, lying on piles at the end opposite -the entrance, to serve as a table. On each side of the trench, the -earth was cut out to a breadth of about two and a half feet, and -this did duty for bedsteads and couches. The roof was so constructed -that one could stand up in the middle of the trench and could even sit -up on the beds if one drew close to the table. Denisov, who was living -luxuriously because the soldiers of his squadron liked him, had also a -board in the roof at the farther end, with a piece of (broken but -mended) glass in it for a window. When it was very cold, embers from -the soldiers' campfire were placed on a bent sheet of iron on the -steps in the "reception room"- as Denisov called that part of the hut- -and it was then so warm that the officers, of whom there were always -some with Denisov and Rostov, sat in their shirt sleeves. - -In April, Rostov was on orderly duty. One morning, between seven and -eight, returning after a sleepless night, he sent for embers, -changed his rain-soaked underclothes, said his prayers, drank tea, got -warm, then tidied up the things on the table and in his own corner, -and, his face glowing from exposure to the wind and with nothing on -but his shirt, lay down on his back, putting his arms under his -head. He was pleasantly considering the probability of being -promoted in a few days for his last reconnoitering expedition, and was -awaiting Denisov, who had gone out somewhere and with whom he wanted a -talk. - -Suddenly he heard Denisov shouting in a vibrating voice behind the -hut, evidently much excited. Rostov moved to the window to see whom he -was speaking to, and saw the quartermaster, Topcheenko. - -"I ordered you not to let them that Mashka woot stuff!" Denisov -was shouting. "And I saw with my own eyes how Lazarchuk bwought some -fwom the fields." - -"I have given the order again and again, your honor, but they -don't obey," answered the quartermaster. - -Rostov lay down again on his bed and thought complacently: "Let -him fuss and bustle now, my job's done and I'm lying down- capitally!" -He could hear that Lavrushka- that sly, bold orderly of Denisov's- was -talking, as well as the quartermaster. Lavrushka was saying -something about loaded wagons, biscuits, and oxen he had seen when -he had gone out for provisions. - -Then Denisov's voice was heard shouting farther and farther away. -"Saddle! Second platoon!" - -"Where are they off to now?" thought Rostov. - -Five minutes later, Denisov came into the hut, climbed with muddy -boots on the bed, lit his pipe, furiously scattered his things -about, took his leaded whip, buckled on his saber, and went out again. -In answer to Rostov's inquiry where he was going, he answered -vaguely and crossly that he had some business. - -"Let God and our gweat monarch judge me afterwards!" said Denisov -going out, and Rostov heard the hoofs of several horses splashing -through the mud. He did not even trouble to find out where Denisov had -gone. Having got warm in his corner, he fell asleep and did not -leave the hut till toward evening. Denisov had not yet returned. The -weather had cleared up, and near the next hut two officers and a cadet -were playing svayka, laughing as they threw their missiles which -buried themselves in the soft mud. Rostov joined them. In the middle -of the game, the officers saw some wagons approaching with fifteen -hussars on their skinny horses behind them. The wagons escorted by the -hussars drew up to the picket ropes and a crowd of hussars -surrounded them. - -"There now, Denisov has been worrying," said Rostov, "and here are -the provisions." - -"So they are!" said the officers. "Won't the soldiers be glad!" - -A little behind the hussars came Denisov, accompanied by two -infantry officers with whom he was talking. - -Rostov went to meet them. - -"I warn you, Captain," one of the officers, a short thin man, -evidently very angry, was saying. - -"Haven't I told you I won't give them up?" replied Denisov. - -"You will answer for it, Captain. It is mutiny- seizing the -transport of one's own army. Our men have had nothing to eat for two -days." - -"And mine have had nothing for two weeks," said Denisov. - -"It is robbery! You'll answer for it, sir!" said the infantry -officer, raising his voice. - -"Now, what are you pestewing me for?" cried Denisov, suddenly losing -his temper. "I shall answer for it and not you, and you'd better not -buzz about here till you get hurt. Be off! Go!" he shouted at the -officers. - -"Very well, then!" shouted the little officer, undaunted and not -riding away. "If you are determined to rob, I'll..." - -"Go to the devil! quick ma'ch, while you're safe and sound!" and -Denisov turned his horse on the officer. - -"Very well, very well!" muttered the officer, threateningly, and -turning his horse he trotted away, jolting in his saddle. - -"A dog astwide a fence! A weal dog astwide a fence!" shouted Denisov -after him (the most insulting expression a cavalryman can address to a -mounted infantryman) and riding up to Rostov, he burst out laughing. - -"I've taken twansports from the infantwy by force!" he said. -"After all, can't let our men starve." - -The wagons that had reached the hussars had been consigned to an -infantry regiment, but learning from Lavrushka that the transport -was unescorted, Denisov with his hussars had seized it by force. The -soldiers had biscuits dealt out to them freely, and they even shared -them with the other squadrons. - -The next day the regimental commander sent for Denisov, and -holding his fingers spread out before his eyes said: - -"This is how I look at this affair: I know nothing about it and -won't begin proceedings, but I advise you to ride over to the staff -and settle the business there in the commissariat department and if -possible sign a receipt for such and such stores received. If not, -as the demand was booked against an infantry regiment, there will be a -row and the affair may end badly." - -From the regimental commander's, Denisov rode straight to the -staff with a sincere desire to act on this advice. In the evening he -came back to his dugout in a state such as Rostov had never yet seen -him in. Denisov could not speak and gasped for breath. When Rostov -asked what was the matter, he only uttered some incoherent oaths and -threats in a hoarse, feeble voice. - -Alarmed at Denisov's condition, Rostov suggested that he should -undress, drink some water, and send for the doctor. - -"Twy me for wobbewy... oh! Some more water... Let them twy me, but -I'll always thwash scoundwels... and I'll tell the Empewo'... -Ice..." he muttered. - -The regimental doctor, when he came, said it was absolutely -necessary to bleed Denisov. A deep saucer of black blood was taken -from his hairy arm and only then was he able to relate what had -happened to him. - -"I get there," began Denisov. "'Now then, where's your chief's -quarters?' They were pointed out. 'Please to wait.' 'I've widden -twenty miles and have duties to attend to and no time to wait. -Announce me.' Vewy well, so out comes their head chief- also took it -into his head to lecture me: 'It's wobbewy!'- 'Wobbewy,' I say, 'is -not done by man who seizes pwovisions to feed his soldiers, but by him -who takes them to fill his own pockets!' 'Will you please be -silent?' 'Vewy good!' Then he says: 'Go and give a weceipt to the -commissioner, but your affair will be passed on to headquarters.' I go -to the commissioner. I enter, and at the table... who do you think? -No, but wait a bit!... Who is it that's starving us?" shouted Denisov, -hitting the table with the fist of his newly bled arm so violently -that the table nearly broke down and the tumblers on it jumped -about. "Telyanin! 'What? So it's you who's starving us to death! Is -it? Take this and this!' and I hit him so pat, stwaight on his -snout... 'Ah, what a... what...!' and I sta'ted fwashing him... -Well, I've had a bit of fun I can tell you!" cried Denisov, gleeful -and yet angry, his showing under his black mustache. "I'd have -killed him if they hadn't taken him away!" - -"But what are you shouting for? Calm yourself," said Rostov. "You've -set your arm bleeding afresh. Wait, we must tie it up again." - -Denisov was bandaged up again and put to bed. Next day he woke -calm and cheerful. - -But at noon the adjutant of the regiment came into Rostov's and -Denisov's dugout with a grave and serious face and regretfully -showed them a paper addressed to Major Denisov from the regimental -commander in which inquiries were made about yesterday's occurrence. -The adjutant told them that the affair was likely to take a very bad -turn: that a court-martial had been appointed, and that in view of the -severity with which marauding and insubordination were now regarded, -degradation to the ranks would be the best that could be hoped for. - -The case, as represented by the offended parties, was that, after -seizing the transports, Major Denisov, being drunk, went to the -chief quartermaster and without any provocation called him a thief, -threatened to strike him, and on being led out had rushed into the -office and given two officials a thrashing, and dislocated the arm -of one of them. - -In answer to Rostov's renewed questions, Denisov said, laughing, -that he thought he remembered that some other fellow had got mixed -up in it, but that it was all nonsense and rubbish, and he did not -in the least fear any kind of trial, and that if those scoundrels -dared attack him he would give them an answer that they would not -easily forget. - -Denisov spoke contemptuously of the whole matter, but Rostov knew -him too well not to detect that (while hiding it from others) at heart -he feared a court-martial and was worried over the affair, which was -evidently taking a bad turn. Every day, letters of inquiry and notices - -from the court arrived, and on the first of May, Denisov was ordered -to hand the squadron over to the next in seniority and appear before -the staff of his division to explain his violence at the -commissariat office. On the previous day Platov reconnoitered with two -Cossack regiments and two squadrons of hussars. Denisov, as was his -wont, rode out in front of the outposts, parading his courage. A -bullet fired by a French sharpshooter hit him in the fleshy part of -his leg. Perhaps at another time Denisov would not have left the -regiment for so slight a wound, but now he took advantage of it to -excuse himself from appearing at the staff and went into hospital. - -CHAPTER XVII - -In June the battle of Friedland was fought, in which the -Pavlograds did not take part, and after that an armistice was -proclaimed. Rostov, who felt his friend's absence very much, having no -news of him since he left and feeling very anxious about his wound and -the progress of his affairs, took advantage of the armistice to get -leave to visit Denisov in hospital. - -The hospital was in a small Prussian town that had been twice -devastated by Russian and French troops. Because it was summer, when -it is so beautiful out in the fields, the little town presented a -particularly dismal appearance with its broken roofs and fences, its -foul streets, tattered inhabitants, and the sick and drunken -soldiers wandering about. - -The hospital was in a brick building with some of the window -frames and panes broken and a courtyard surrounded by the remains of a -wooden fence that had been pulled to pieces. Several bandaged -soldiers, with pale swollen faces, were sitting or walking about in -the sunshine in the yard. - -Directly Rostov entered the door he was enveloped by a smell of -putrefaction and hospital air. On the stairs he met a Russian army -doctor smoking a cigar. The doctor was followed by a Russian -assistant. - -"I can't tear myself to pieces," the doctor was saying. "Come to -Makar Alexeevich in the evening. I shall be there." - -The assistant asked some further questions. - -"Oh, do the best you can! Isn't it all the same?" The doctor noticed -Rostov coming upstairs. - -"What do you want, sir?" said the doctor. "What do you want? The -bullets having spared you, do you want to try typhus? This is a -pesthouse, sir." - -"How so?" asked Rostov. - -"Typhus, sir. It's death to go in. Only we two, Makeev and I" (he -pointed to the assistant), "keep on here. Some five of us doctors have -died in this place.... When a new one comes he is done for in a week," -said the doctor with evident satisfaction. "Prussian doctors have been -invited here, but our allies don't like it at all." - -Rostov explained that he wanted to see Major Denisov of the hussars, -who was wounded. - -"I don't know. I can't tell you, sir. Only think! I am alone in -charge of three hospitals with more than four hundred patients! It's -well that the charitable Prussian ladies send us two pounds of -coffee and some lint each month or we should be lost!" he laughed. -"Four hundred, sir, and they're always sending me fresh ones. There -are four hundred? Eh?" he asked, turning to the assistant. - -The assistant looked fagged out. He was evidently vexed and -impatient for the talkative doctor to go. - -"Major Denisov," Rostov said again. "He was wounded at Molliten." - -"Dead, I fancy. Eh, Makeev?" queried the doctor, in a tone of -indifference. - -The assistant, however, did not confirm the doctor's words. - -"Is he tall and with reddish hair?" asked the doctor. - -Rostov described Denisov's appearance. - -"There was one like that," said the doctor, as if pleased. "That one -is dead, I fancy. However, I'll look up our list. We had a list. -Have you got it, Makeev?" - -"Makar Alexeevich has the list," answered the assistant. "But if -you'll step into the officers' wards you'll see for yourself," he -added, turning to Rostov. - -"Ah, you'd better not go, sir," said the doctor, "or you may have to -stay here yourself." - -But Rostov bowed himself away from the doctor and asked the -assistant to show him the way. - -"Only don't blame me!" the doctor shouted up after him. - -Rostov and the assistant went into the dark corridor. The smell -was so strong there that Rostov held his nose and had to pause and -collect his strength before he could go on. A door opened to the -right, and an emaciated sallow man on crutches, barefoot and in -underclothing, limped out and, leaning against the doorpost, looked -with glittering envious eyes at those who were passing. Glancing in at -the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded were lying on the floor -on straw and overcoats. - -"May I go in and look?" - -"What is there to see?" said the assistant. - -But, just because the assistant evidently did not want him to go in, -Rostov entered the soldiers' ward. The foul air, to which he had -already begun to get used in the corridor, was still stronger here. It -was a little different, more pungent, and one felt that this was where -it originated. - -In the long room, brightly lit up by the sun through the large -windows, the sick and wounded lay in two rows with their heads to -the walls, and leaving a passage in the middle. Most of them were -unconscious and paid no attention to the newcomers. Those who were -conscious raised themselves or lifted their thin yellow faces, and all -looked intently at Rostov with the same expression of hope, of relief, -reproach, and envy of another's health. Rostov went to the middle of -the room and looking through the open doors into the two adjoining -rooms saw the same thing there. He stood still, looking silently -around. He had not at all expected such a sight. Just before him, -almost across the middle of the passage on the bare floor, lay a -sick man, probably a Cossack to judge by the cut of his hair. The -man lay on his back, his huge arms and legs outstretched. His face was -purple, his eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were seen, -and on his bare legs and arms which were still red, the veins stood -out like cords. He was knocking the back of his head against the -floor, hoarsely uttering some word which he kept repeating. Rostov -listened and made out the word. It was "drink, drink, a drink!" Rostov -glanced round, looking for someone who would put this man back in -his place and bring him water. - -"Who looks after the sick here?" he asked the assistant. - -Just then a commissariat soldier, a hospital orderly, came in from -the next room, marching stiffly, and drew up in front of Rostov. - -"Good day, your honor!" he shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and -evidently mistaking him for one of the hospital authorities. - -"Get him to his place and give him some water," said Rostov, -pointing to the Cossack. - -"Yes, your honor," the soldier replied complacently, and rolling his -eyes more than ever he drew himself up still straighter, but did not -move. - -"No, it's impossible to do anything here," thought Rostov, -lowering his eyes, and he was going out, but became aware of an -intense look fixed on him on his right, and he turned. Close to the -corner, on an overcoat, sat an old, unshaven, gray-bearded soldier -as thin as a skeleton, with a stern sallow face and eyes intently -fixed on Rostov. The man's neighbor on one side whispered something to -him, pointing at Rostov, who noticed that the old man wanted to -speak to him. He drew nearer and saw that the old man had only one leg -bent under him, the other had been amputated above the knee. His -neighbor on the other side, who lay motionless some distance from -him with his head thrown back, was a young soldier with a snub nose. -His pale waxen face was still freckled and his eyes were rolled -back. Rostov looked at the young soldier and a cold chill ran down his -back. - -"Why, this one seems..." he began, turning to the assistant. - -"And how we've been begging, your honor," said the old soldier, -his jaw quivering. "He's been dead since morning. After all we're men, -not dogs." - -"I'll send someone at once. He shall be taken away- taken away at -once," said the assistant hurriedly. "Let us go, your honor." - -"Yes, yes, let us go," said Rostov hastily, and lowering his eyes -and shrinking, he tried to pass unnoticed between the rows of -reproachful envious eyes that were fixed upon him, and went out of the -room. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Going along the corridor, the assistant led Rostov to the -officers' wards, consisting of three rooms, the doors of which stood -open. There were beds in these rooms and the sick and wounded officers -were lying or sitting on them. Some were walking about the rooms in -hospital dressing gowns. The first person Rostov met in the -officers' ward was a thin little man with one arm, who was walking -about the first room in a nightcap and hospital dressing gown, with -a pipe between his teeth. Rostov looked at him, trying to remember -where he had seen him before. - -"See where we've met again!" said the little man. "Tushin, Tushin, -don't you remember, who gave you a lift at Schon Grabern? And I've had -a bit cut off, you see..." he went on with a smile, pointing to the -empty sleeve of his dressing gown. "Looking for Vasili Dmitrich -Denisov? My neighbor," he added, when he heard who Rostov wanted. -"Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whence -came sounds of several laughing voices. - -"How can they laugh, or even live at all here?" thought Rostov, -still aware of that smell of decomposing flesh that had been so strong -in the soldiers' ward, and still seeming to see fixed on him those -envious looks which had followed him out from both sides, and the face -of that young soldier with eyes rolled back. - -Denisov lay asleep on his bed with his head under the blanket, -though it was nearly noon. - -"Ah, Wostov? How are you, how are you?" he called out, still in -the same voice as in the regiment, but Rostov noticed sadly that under -this habitual ease and animation some new, sinister, hidden feeling -showed itself in the expression of Denisov's face and the -intonations of his voice. - -His wound, though a slight one, had not yet healed even now, six -weeks after he had been hit. His face had the same swollen pallor as -the faces of the other hospital patients, but it was not this that -struck Rostov. What struck him was that Denisov did not seem glad to -see him, and smiled at him unnaturally. He did not ask about the -regiment, nor about the general state of affairs, and when Rostov -spoke of these matters did not listen. - -Rostov even noticed that Denisov did not like to be reminded of -the regiment, or in general of that other free life which was going on -outside the hospital. He seemed to try to forget that old life and was -only interested in the affair with the commissariat officers. On -Rostov's inquiry as to how the matter stood, he at once produced -from under his pillow a paper he had received from the commission -and the rough draft of his answer to it. He became animated when he -began reading his paper and specially drew Rostov's attention to the -stinging rejoinders he made to his enemies. His hospital companions, -who had gathered round Rostov- a fresh arrival from the world outside- -gradually began to disperse as soon as Denisov began reading his -answer. Rostov noticed by their faces that all those gentlemen had -already heard that story more than once and were tired of it. Only the -man who had the next bed, a stout Uhlan, continued to sit on his -bed, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe, and little one-armed Tushin -still listened, shaking his head disapprovingly. In the middle of -the reading, the Uhlan interrupted Denisov. - -"But what I say is," he said, turning to Rostov, "it would be best -simply to petition the Emperor for pardon. They say great rewards will -now be distributed, and surely a pardon would be granted...." - -"Me petition the Empewo'!" exclaimed Denisov, in a voice to which he -tried hard to give the old energy and fire, but which sounded like -an expression of irritable impotence. "What for? If I were a wobber -I would ask mercy, but I'm being court-martialed for bwinging -wobbers to book. Let them twy me, I'm not afwaid of anyone. I've -served the Tsar and my countwy honowably and have not stolen! And am I -to be degwaded?... Listen, I'm w'iting to them stwaight. This is -what I say: 'If I had wobbed the Tweasuwy...'" - -"It's certainly well written," said Tushin, "but that's not the -point, Vasili Dmitrich," and he also turned to Rostov. "One has to -submit, and Vasili Dmitrich doesn't want to. You know the auditor told -you it was a bad business. - -"Well, let it be bad," said Denisov. - -"The auditor wrote out a petition for you," continued Tushin, "and -you ought to sign it and ask this gentleman to take it. No doubt he" -(indicating Rostov) "has connections on the staff. You won't find a -better opportunity." - -"Haven't I said I'm not going to gwovel?" Denisov interrupted him, -went on reading his paper. - -Rostov had not the courage to persuade Denisov, though he -instinctively felt that the way advised by Tushin and the other -officers was the safest, and though he would have been glad to be of -service to Denisov. He knew his stubborn will and straightforward -hasty temper. - -When the reading of Denisov's virulent reply, which took more than -an hour, was over, Rostov said nothing, and he spent the rest of the -day in a most dejected state of mind amid Denisov's hospital comrades, -who had round him, telling them what he knew and listening to their -stories. Denisov was moodily silent all the evening. - -Late in the evening, when Rostov was about to leave, he asked -Denisov whether he had no commission for him. - -"Yes, wait a bit," said Denisov, glancing round at the officers, and -taking his papers from under his pillow he went to the window, where -he had an inkpot, and sat down to write. - -"It seems it's no use knocking one's head against a wall!" he -said, coming from the window and giving Rostov a large envelope. In it -was the petition to the Emperor drawn up by the auditor, in which -Denisov, without alluding to the offenses of the commissariat -officials, simply asked for pardon. - -"Hand it in. It seems..." - -He did not finish, but gave a painfully unnatural smile. - -CHAPTER XIX - -Having returned to the regiment and told the commander the state -of Denisov's affairs, Rostov rode to Tilsit with the letter to the -Emperor. - -On the thirteenth of June the French and Russian Emperors arrived in -Tilsit. Boris Drubetskoy had asked the important personage on whom -he was in attendance, to include him in the suite appointed for the -stay at Tilsit. - -"I should like to see the great man," he said, alluding to Napoleon, -whom hitherto he, like everyone else, had always called Buonaparte. - -"You are speaking of Buonaparte?" asked the general, smiling. - -Boris looked at his general inquiringly and immediately saw that -he was being tested. - -"I am speaking, Prince, of the Emperor Napoleon," he replied. The -general patted him on the shoulder, with a smile. - -"You will go far," he said, and took him to Tilsit with him. - -Boris was among the few present at the Niemen on the day the two -Emperors met. He saw the raft, decorated with monograms, saw -Napoleon pass before the French Guards on the farther bank of the -river, saw the pensive face of the Emperor Alexander as he sat in -silence in a tavern on the bank of the Niemen awaiting Napoleon's -arrival, saw both Emperors get into boats, and saw how Napoleon- -reaching the raft first- stepped quickly forward to meet Alexander and -held out his hand to him, and how they both retired into the pavilion. -Since he had begun to move in the highest circles Boris had made it -his habit to watch attentively all that went on around him and to note -it down. At the time of the meeting at Tilsit he asked the names of -those who had come with Napoleon and about the uniforms they wore, and -listened attentively to words spoken by important personages. At the -moment the Emperors went into the pavilion he looked at his watch, and -did not forget to look at it again when Alexander came out. The -interview had lasted an hour and fifty-three minutes. He noted this -down that same evening, among other facts he felt to be of historic -importance. As the Emperor's suite was a very small one, it was a -matter of great importance, for a man who valued his success in the -service, to be at Tilsit on the occasion of this interview between the -two Emperors, and having succeeded in this, Boris felt that henceforth -his position was fully assured. He had not only become known, but -people had grown accustomed to him and accepted him. Twice he had -executed commissions to the Emperor himself, so that the latter knew -his face, and all those at court, far from cold-shouldering him as -at first when they considered him a newcomer, would now have been -surprised had he been absent. - -Boris lodged with another adjutant, the Polish Count Zhilinski. -Zhilinski, a Pole brought up in Paris, was rich, and passionately fond -of the French, and almost every day of the stay at Tilsit, French -officers of the Guard and from French headquarters were dining and -lunching with him and Boris. - -On the evening of the twenty-fourth of June, Count Zhilinski -arranged a supper for his French friends. The guest of honor was an -aide-de-camp of Napoleon's, there were also several French officers of -the Guard, and a page of Napoleon's, a young lad of an old -aristocratic French family. That same day, Rostov, profiting by the -darkness to avoid being recognized in civilian dress. came to Tilsit -and went to the lodging occupied by Boris and Zhilinski. - -Rostov, in common with the whole army from which he came, was far -from having experienced the change of feeling toward Napoleon and -the French- who from being foes had suddenly become friends- that -had taken place at headquarters and in Boris. In the army, Bonaparte -and the French were still regarded with mingled feelings of anger, -contempt, and fear. Only recently, talking with one of Platov's -Cossack officers, Rostov had argued that if Napoleon were taken -prisoner he would be treated not as a sovereign, but as a criminal. -Quite lately, happening to meet a wounded French colonel on the -road, Rostov had maintained with heat that peace was impossible -between a legitimate sovereign and the criminal Bonaparte. Rostov -was therefore unpleasantly struck by the presence of French officers -in Boris' lodging, dressed in uniforms he had been accustomed to see -from quite a different point of view from the outposts of the flank. -As soon as he noticed a French officer, who thrust his head out of the -door, that warlike feeling of hostility which he always experienced at -the sight of the enemy suddenly seized him. He stopped at the -threshold and asked in Russian whether Drubetskoy lived there. -Boris, hearing a strange voice in the anteroom, came out to meet -him. An expression of annoyance showed itself for a moment on his face -on first recognizing Rostov. - -"Ah, it's you? Very glad, very glad to see you," he said, however, -coming toward him with a smile. But Rostov had noticed his first -impulse. - -"I've come at a bad time I think. I should not have come, but I have -business," he said coldly. - -"No, I only wonder how you managed to get away from your regiment. -Dans un moment je suis a vous,"~{ "In a minute I shall be at your disposal." }~ he said, answering someone who called -him. - -"I see I'm intruding," Rostov repeated. - -The look of annoyance had already disappeared from Boris' face: -having evidently reflected and decided how to act, he very quietly -took both Rostov's hands and led him into the next room. His eyes, -looking serenely and steadily at Rostov, seemed to be veiled by -something, as if screened by blue spectacles of conventionality. So it -seemed to Rostov. - -"Oh, come now! As if you could come at a wrong time!" said Boris, -and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and -introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, -but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his. - -"Count Zhilinski- le Comte N. N.- le Capitaine S. S.," said he, -naming his guests. Rostov looked frowningly at the Frenchmen, bowed -reluctantly, and remained silent. - -Zhilinski evidently did not receive this new Russian person very -willingly into his circle and did not speak to Rostov. Boris did not -appear to notice the constraint the newcomer produced and, with the -same pleasant composure and the same veiled look in his eyes with -which he had met Rostov, tried to enliven the conversation. One of the -Frenchmen, with the politeness characteristic of his countrymen, -addressed the obstinately taciturn Rostov, saying that the latter -had probably come to Tilsit to see the Emperor. - -"No, I came on business," replied Rostov, briefly. - -Rostov had been out of humor from the moment he noticed the look -of dissatisfaction on Boris' face, and as always happens to those in a -bad humor, it seemed to him that everyone regarded him with aversion -and that he was in everybody's way. He really was in their way, for he -alone took no part in the conversation which again became general. The -looks the visitors cast on him seemed to say: "And what is he -sitting here for?" He rose and went up to Boris. - -"Anyhow, I'm in your way," he said in a low tone. "Come and talk -over my business and I'll go away." - -"Oh, no, not at all," said Boris. "But if you are tired, come and -lie down in my room and have a rest." - -"Yes, really..." - -They went into the little room where Boris slept. Rostov, without -sitting down, began at once, irritably (as if Boris were to blame in -some way) telling him about Denisov's affair, asking him whether, -through his general, he could and would intercede with the Emperor -on Denisov's behalf and get Denisov's petition handed in. When he -and Boris were alone, Rostov felt for the first time that he could not -look Boris in the face without a sense of awkwardness. Boris, with one -leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender -fingers of his right, listened to Rostov as a general listens to the -report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight -into Rostov's eyes with the same veiled look. Each time this -happened Rostov felt uncomfortable and cast down his eyes. - -"I have heard of such cases and know that His Majesty is very severe -in such affairs. I think it would be best not to bring it before the -Emperor, but to apply to the commander of the corps.... But in -general, I think..." - -"So you don't want to do anything? Well then, say so!" Rostov almost -shouted, not looking Boris in the face. - -Boris smiled. - -"On the contrary, I will do what I can. Only I thought..." - -At that moment Zhilinski's voice was heard calling Boris. - -"Well then, go, go, go..." said Rostov, and refusing supper and -remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long -time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room. - -CHAPTER XX - -Rostov had come to Tilsit the day least suitable for a petition on -Denisov's behalf. He could not himself go to the general in attendance -as he was in mufti and had come to Tilsit without permission to do so, -and Boris, even had he wished to, could not have done so on the -following day. On that day, June 27, the preliminaries of peace were -signed. The Emperors exchanged decorations: Alexander received the -Cross of the Legion of Honor and Napoleon the Order of St. Andrew of -the First Degree, and a dinner had been arranged for the evening, -given by a battalion of the French Guards to the Preobrazhensk -battalion. The Emperors were to be present at that banquet. - -Rostov felt so ill at ease and uncomfortable with Boris that, when -the latter looked in after supper, he pretended to be asleep, and -early next morning went away, avoiding Boris. In his civilian -clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the -French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the -Russian and French Emperors were staying. In a square he saw tables -being set up and preparations made for the dinner; he saw the -Russian and French colors draped from side to side of the streets, -with hugh monograms A and N. In the windows of the houses also flags -and bunting were displayed. - -"Boris doesn't want to help me and I don't want to ask him. That's -settled," thought Nicholas. "All is over between us, but I won't leave -here without having done all I can for Denisov and certainly not -without getting his letter to the Emperor. The Emperor!... He is -here!" thought Rostov, who had unconsciously returned to the house -where Alexander lodged. - -Saddled horses were standing before the house and the suite were -assembling, evidently preparing for the Emperor to come out. - -"I may see him at any moment," thought Rostov. "If only I were to -hand the letter direct to him and tell him all... could they really -arrest me for my civilian clothes? Surely not! He would understand -on whose side justice lies. He understands everything, knows -everything. Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he? And even -if they did arrest me for being here, what would it matter?" thought -he, looking at an officer who was entering the house the Emperor -occupied. "After all, people do go in.... It's all nonsense! I'll go -in and hand the letter to the Emperor myself so much the worse for -Drubetskoy who drives me to it!" And suddenly with a determination -he himself did not expect, Rostov felt for the letter in his pocket -and went straight to the house. - -"No, I won't miss my opportunity now, as I did after Austerlitz," he -thought, expecting every moment to meet the monarch, and conscious -of the blood that rushed to his heart at the thought. "I will fall -at his feet and beseech him. He will lift me up, will listen, and will -even thank me. 'I am happy when I can do good, but to remedy injustice -is the greatest happiness,'" Rostov fancied the sovereign saying. -And passing people who looked after him with curiosity, he entered the -porch of the Emperor's house. - -A broad staircase led straight up from the entry, and to the right -he saw a closed door. Below, under the staircase, was a door leading -to the lower floor. - -"Whom do you want?" someone inquired. - -"To hand in a letter, a petition, to His Majesty," said Nicholas, -with a tremor in his voice. - -"A petition? This way, to the officer the officer on duty" (he was -shown the door leading downstairs), "only it won't be accepted." - -On hearing this indifferent voice, Rostov grew frightened at what he -was doing; the thought of meeting the Emperor at any moment was so -fascinating and consequently so alarming that he was ready to run -away, but the official who had questioned him opened the door, and -Rostov entered. - -A short stout man of about thirty, in white breeches and high -boots and a batiste shirt that he had evidently only just put on, -standing in that room, and his valet was buttoning on to the back of -his breeches a new pair of handsome silk-embroidered braces that, -for some reason, attracted Rostov's attention. This man was was -speaking to someone in the adjoining room. - -"A good figure and in her first bloom," he was saying, but on seeing -Rostov, he stopped short and frowned. - -"What is it? A petition?" - -"What is it?" asked the person in the other room. - -"Another petitioner," answered the man with the braces. - -"Tell him to come later. He'll be coming out directly, we must go." - -"Later... later! Tomorrow. It's too late..." - -Rostov turned and was about to go, but the man in the braces stopped -him. - -"Whom have you come from? Who are you?" - -"I come from Major Denisov," answered Rostov. - -"Are you an officer?" - -"Lieutenant Count Rostov." - -"What audacity! Hand it in through your commander. And go along with -you... go," and he continued to put on the uniform the valet handed -him. - -Rostov went back into the hall and noticed that in the porch there -were many officers and generals in full parade uniform, whom he had to -pass. - -Cursing his temerity, his heart sinking at the thought of finding -himself at any moment face to face with the Emperor and being put to -shame and arrested in his presence, fully alive now to the impropriety -of his conduct and repenting of it, Rostov, with downcast eyes, was -making his way out of the house through the brilliant suite when a -familiar voice called him and a hand detained him. - -"What are you doing here, sir, in civilian dress?" asked a deep -voice. - -It was a cavalry general who had obtained the Emperor's special -favor during this campaign, and who had formerly commanded the -division in which Rostov was serving. - -Rostov, in dismay, began justifying himself, but seeing the -kindly, jocular face of the general, he took him aside and in an -excited voice told him the whole affair, asking him to intercede for -Denisov, whom the general knew. Having heard Rostov to the end, the -general shook his head gravely. - -"I'm sorry, sorry for that fine fellow. Give me the letter." - -Hardly had Rostov handed him the letter and finished explaining -Denisov's case, when hasty steps and the jingling of spurs were -heard on the stairs, and the general, leaving him, went to the -porch. The gentlemen of the Emperor's suite ran down the stairs and -went to their horses. Hayne, the same groom who had been at -Austerlitz, led up the Emperor's horse, and the faint creak of a -footstep Rostov knew at once was heard on the stairs. Forgetting the -danger of being recognized, Rostov went close to the porch, together -with some inquisitive civilians, and again, after two years, saw those -features he adored: that same face and same look and step, and the -same union of majesty and mildness.... And the feeling of enthusiasm -and love for his sovereign rose again in Rostov's soul in all its -old force. In the uniform of the Preobrazhensk regiment- white -chamois-leather breeches and high boots- and wearing a star Rostov did -not know (it was that of the Legion d'honneur), the monarch came out -into the porch, putting on his gloves and carrying his hat under his -arm. He stopped and looked about him, brightening everything around by -his glance. He spoke a few words to some of the generals, and, -recognizing the former commander of Rostov's division, smiled and -beckoned to him. - -All the suite drew back and Rostov saw the general talking for -some time to the Emperor. - -The Emperor said a few words to him and took a step toward his -horse. Again the crowd of members of the suite and street gazers -(among whom was Rostov) moved nearer to the Emperor. Stopping beside -his horse, with his hand on the saddle, the Emperor turned to the -cavalry general and said in a loud voice, evidently wishing to be -heard by all: - -"I cannot do it, General. I cannot, because the law is stronger than -I," and he raised his foot to the stirrup. - -The general bowed his head respectfully, and the monarch mounted and -rode down the street at a gallop. Beside himself with enthusiasm, -Rostov ran after him with the crowd. - -CHAPTER XXI - -The Emperor rode to the square where, facing one another, a -battalion of the Preobrazhensk regiment stood on the right and a -battalion of the French Guards in their bearskin caps on the left. - -As the Tsar rode up to one flank of the battalions, which -presented arms, another group of horsemen galloped up to the -opposite flank, and at the head of them Rostov recognized Napoleon. It -could be no one else. He came at a gallop, wearing a small hat, a blue -uniform open over a white vest, and the St. Andrew ribbon over his -shoulder. He was riding a very fine thoroughbred gray Arab horse -with a crimson gold-embroidered saddlecloth. On approaching -Alexander he raised his hat, and as he did so, Rostov, with his -cavalryman's eye, could not help noticing that Napoleon did not sit -well or firmly in the saddle. The battalions shouted "Hurrah!" and -"Vive l'Empereur!" Napoleon said something to Alexander, and both -Emperors dismounted and took each other's hands. Napoleon's face -wore an unpleasant and artificial smile. Alexander was saying -something affable to him. - -In spite of the trampling of the French gendarmes' horses, which -were pushing back the crowd, Rostov kept his eyes on every movement of -Alexander and Bonaparte. It struck him as a surprise that Alexander -treated Bonaparte as an equal and that the latter was quite at ease -with the Tsar, as if such relations with an Emperor were an everyday -matter to him. - -Alexander and Napoleon, with the long train of their suites, -approached the right flank of the Preobrazhensk battalion and came -straight up to the crowd standing there. The crowd unexpectedly -found itself so close to the Emperors that Rostov, standing in the -front row, was afraid he might be recognized. - -"Sire, I ask your permission to present the Legion of Honor to the -bravest of your soldiers," said a sharp, precise voice, articulating -every letter. - -This was said by the undersized Napoleon, looking up straight into -Alexander's eyes. Alexander listened attentively to what was said to -him and, bending his head, smiled pleasantly. - -"To him who has borne himself most bravely in this last war," -added Napoleon, accentuating each syllable, as with a composure and -assurance exasperating to Rostov, he ran his eyes over the Russian -ranks drawn up before him, who all presented arms with their eyes -fixed on their Emperor. - -"Will Your Majesty allow me to consult the colonel?" said -Alexander and took a few hasty steps toward Prince Kozlovski, the -commander of the battalion. - -Bonaparte meanwhile began taking the glove off his small white hand, -tore it in doing so, and threw it away. An aide-de-camp behind him -rushed forward and picked it up. - -"To whom shall it be given?" the Emperor Alexander asked -Koslovski, in Russian in a low voice. - -"To whomever Your Majesty commands." - -The Emperor knit his brows with dissatisfaction and, glancing -back, remarked: - -"But we must give him an answer." - -Kozlovski scanned the ranks resolutely and included Rostov in his -scrutiny. - -"Can it be me?" thought Rostov. - -"Lazarev!" the colonel called, with a frown, and Lazarev, the -first soldier in the rank, stepped briskly forward. - -"Where are you off to? Stop here!" voices whispered to Lazarev who -did not know where to go. Lazarev stopped, casting a sidelong look -at his colonel in alarm. His face twitched, as often happens to -soldiers called before the ranks. - -Napoleon slightly turned his head, and put his plump little hand out -behind him as if to take something. The members of his suite, guessing -at once what he wanted, moved about and whispered as they passed -something from one to another, and a page- the same one Rostov had -seen the previous evening at Boris'- ran forward and, bowing -respectfully over the outstretched hand and not keeping it waiting a -moment, laid in it an Order on a red ribbon. Napoleon, without -looking, pressed two fingers together and the badge was between -them. Then he approached Lazarev (who rolled his eyes and persistently -gazed at his own monarch), looked round at the Emperor Alexander to -imply that what he was now doing was done for the sake of his ally, -and the small white hand holding the Order touched one of Lazarev's -buttons. It was as if Napoleon knew that it was only necessary for his -hand to deign to touch that soldier's breast for the soldier to be -forever happy, rewarded, and distinguished from everyone else in the -world. Napoleon merely laid the cross on Lazarev's breast and, -dropping his hand, turned toward Alexander as though sure that the -cross would adhere there. And it really did. - -Officious hands, Russian and French, immediately seized the cross -and fastened it to the uniform. Lazarev glanced morosely at the little -man with white hands who was doing something to him and, still -standing motionless presenting arms, looked again straight into -Alexander's eyes, as if asking whether he should stand there, or go -away, or do something else. But receiving no orders, he remained for -some time in that rigid position. - -The Emperors remounted and rode away. The Preobrazhensk battalion, -breaking rank, mingled with the French Guards and sat down at the -tables prepared for them. - -Lazarev sat in the place of honor. Russian and French officers -embraced him, congratulated him, and pressed his hands. Crowds of -officers and civilians drew near merely to see him. A rumble of -Russian and French voices and laughter filled the air round the tables -in the square. Two officers with flushed faces, looking cheerful and -happy, passed by Rostov. - -"What d'you think of the treat? All on silver plate," one of them -was saying. "Have you seen Lazarev?" - -"I have." - -"Tomorrow, I hear, the Preobrazhenskis will give them a dinner." - -"Yes, but what luck for Lazarev! Twelve hundred francs' pension -for life." - -"Here's a cap, lads!" shouted a Preobrazhensk soldier, donning a -shaggy French cap. - -"It's a fine thing! First-rate!" - -"Have you heard the password?" asked one Guards' officer of another. -"The day before yesterday it was 'Napoleon, France, bravoure'; -yesterday, 'Alexandre, Russie, grandeur.' One day our Emperor gives it -and next day Napoleon. Tomorrow our Emperor will send a St. George's -Cross to the bravest of the French Guards. It has to be done. He -must respond in kind." - -Boris, too, with his friend Zhilinski, came to see the Preobrazhensk -banquet. On his way back, he noticed Rostov standing by the corner -of a house. - -"Rostov! How d'you do? We missed one another," he said, and could -not refrain from asking what was the matter, so strangely dismal and -troubled was Rostov's face. - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Rostov. - -"You'll call round?" - -"Yes, I will." - -Rostov stood at that corner for a long time, watching the feast from -a distance. a distance. In his mind, a painful process was going on -which he could not bring to a conclusion. Terrible doubts rose in -his soul. Now he remembered Denisov with his changed expression, his -submission, and the whole hospital, with arms and legs torn off and -its dirt and disease. So vividly did he recall that hospital stench of -dead flesh that he looked round to see where the smell came from. Next -he thought of that self-satisfied Bonaparte, with his small white -hand, who was now an Emperor, liked and respected by Alexander. Then -why those severed arms and legs and those dead men?... Then again he -thought of Lazarev rewarded and Denisov punished and unpardoned. He -caught himself harboring such strange thoughts that he was frightened. - -The smell of the food the Preobrazhenskis were eating and a sense of -hunger recalled him from these reflections; he had to get something to -eat before going away. He went to a hotel he had noticed that morning. -There he found so many people, among them officers who, like -himself, had come in civilian clothes, that he had difficulty in -getting a dinner. Two officers of his own division joined him. The -conversation naturally turned on the peace. The officers, his -comrades, like most of the army, were dissatisfied with the peace -concluded after the battle of Friedland. They said that had we held -out a little longer Napoleon would have been done for, as his troops -had neither provisions nor ammunition. Nicholas ate and drank (chiefly -the latter) in silence. He finished a couple of bottles of wine by -himself. The process in his mind went on tormenting him without -reaching a conclusion. He feared to give way to his thoughts, yet -could not get rid of them. Suddenly, on one of the officers' saying -that it was humiliating to look at the French, Rostov began shouting -with uncalled-for wrath, and therefore much to the surprise of the -officers: - -"How can you judge what's best?" he cried, the blood suddenly -rushing to his face. "How can you judge the Emperor's actions? What -right have we to argue? We cannot comprehend either the Emperor's or -his actions!" - -"But I never said a word about the Emperor!" said the officer, -justifying himself, and unable to understand Rostov's outburst, except -on the supposition that he was drunk. - -But Rostov did not listen to him. - -"We are not diplomatic officials, we are soldiers and nothing more," -he went on. "If we are ordered to die, we must die. If we're punished, -it means that we have deserved it, it's not for us to judge. If the -Emperor pleases to recognize Bonaparte as Emperor and to conclude an -alliance with him, it means that that is the right thing to do. If -once we begin judging and arguing about everything, nothing sacred -will be left! That way we shall be saying there is no God- nothing!" -shouted Nicholas, banging the table- very little to the point as it -seemed to his listeners, but quite relevantly to the course of his own -thoughts. - -"Our business is to do our duty, to fight and not to think! That's -all...." said he. - -"And to drink," said one of the officers, not wishing to quarrel. - -"Yes, and to drink," assented Nicholas. "Hullo there! Another -bottle!" he shouted. - -In 1808 the Emperor Alexander went to Erfurt for a fresh interview -with the Emperor Napoleon, and in the upper circles of Petersburg -there was much talk of the grandeur of this important meeting. - -CHAPTER XXII - -In 1809 the intimacy between "the world's two arbiters," as Napoleon -and Alexander were called, was such that when Napoleon declared war on -Austria a Russian corps crossed the frontier to co-operate with our -old enemy Bonaparte against our old ally the Emperor of Austria, and -in court circles the possibility of marriage between Napoleon and -one of Alexander's sisters was spoken of. But besides considerations -of foreign policy, the attention of Russian society was at that time -keenly directed on the internal changes that were being undertaken -in all the departments of government. - -Life meanwhile- real life, with its essential interests of health -and sickness, toil and rest, and its intellectual interests in -thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, and -passions- went on as usual, independently of and apart from -political friendship or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte and from all -the schemes of reconstruction. - -BOOK SIX: 1808 - 10 - -CHAPTER I - -Prince Andrew had spent two years continuously in the country. - -All the plans Pierre had attempted on his estates- and constantly -changing from one thing to another had never accomplished- were -carried out by Prince Andrew without display and without perceptible -difficulty. - -He had in the highest degree a practical tenacity which Pierre -lacked, and without fuss or strain on his part this set things going. - -On one of his estates the three hundred serfs were liberated and -became free agricultural laborers- this being one of the first -examples of the kind in Russia. On other estates the serfs' compulsory -labor was commuted for a quitrent. A trained midwife was engaged for -Bogucharovo at his expense, and a priest was paid to teach reading and -writing to the children of the peasants and household serfs. - -Prince Andrew spent half his time at Bald Hills with his father -and his son, who was still in the care of nurses. The other half he -spent in "Bogucharovo Cloister," as his father called Prince -Andrew's estate. Despite the indifference to the affairs of the -world he had expressed to Pierre, he diligently followed all that went -on, received many books, and to his surprise noticed that when he or -his father had visitors from Petersburg, the very vortex of life, -these people lagged behind himself- who never left the country- in -knowledge of what was happening in home and foreign affairs. - -Besides being occupied with his estates and reading a great -variety of books, Prince Andrew was at this time busy with a -critical of survey our last two unfortunate campaigns, and with -drawing up a proposal for a reform of the army rules and regulations. - -In the spring of 1809 he went to visit the Ryazan estates which -had been inherited by his son, whose guardian he was. - -Warmed by the spring sunshine he sat in the caleche looking at the -new grass, the first leaves on the birches, and the first puffs of -white spring clouds floating across the clear blue sky. He was not -thinking of anything, but looked absent-mindedly and cheerfully from -side to side. - -They crossed the ferry where he had talked with Pierre the year -before. They went through the muddy village, past threshing floors and -green fields of winter rye, downhill where snow still lodged near -the bridge, uphill where the clay had been liquefied by the rain, past -strips of stubble land and bushes touched with green here and there, -and into a birch forest growing on both sides of the road. In the -forest it was almost hot, no wind could be felt. The birches with -their sticky green leaves were motionless, and lilac-colored flowers -and the first blades of green grass were pushing up and lifting last -year's leaves. The coarse evergreen color of the small fir trees -scattered here and there among the birches was an unpleasant -reminder of winter. On entering the forest the horses began to snort -and sweated visibly. - -Peter the footman made some remark to the coachman; the latter -assented. But apparently the coachman's sympathy was not enough for -Peter, and he turned on the box toward his master. - -"How pleasant it is, your excellency!" he said with a respectful -smile. - -"What?" - -"It's pleasant, your excellency!" - -"What is he talking about?" thought Prince Andrew. "Oh, the -spring, I suppose," he thought as he turned round. "Yes, really -everything is green already.... How early! The birches and cherry -and alders too are coming out.... But the oaks show no sign yet. Ah, -here is one oak!" - -At the edge of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times the age of -the birches that formed the forest, it was ten times as thick and -twice as tall as they. It was an enormous tree, its girth twice as -great as a man could embrace, and evidently long ago some of its -branches had been broken off and its bark scarred. With its huge -ungainly limbs sprawling unsymmetrically, and its gnarled hands and -fingers, it stood an aged, stern, and scornful monster among the -smiling birch trees. Only the dead-looking evergreen firs dotted about -in the forest, and this oak, refused to yield to the charm of spring -or notice either the spring or the sunshine. - -"Spring, love, happiness!" this oak seemed to say. "Are you not -weary of that stupid, meaningless, constantly repeated fraud? Always -the same and always a fraud? There is no spring, no sun, no happiness! -Look at those cramped dead firs, ever the same, and at me too, -sticking out my broken and barked fingers just where they have -grown, whether from my back or my sides: as they have grown so I -stand, and I do not believe in your hopes and your lies." - -As he passed through the forest Prince Andrew turned several times -to look at that oak, as if expecting something from it. Under the oak, -too, were flowers and grass, but it stood among them scowling, -rigid, misshapen, and grim as ever. - -"Yes, the oak is right, a thousand times right," thought Prince -Andrew. "Let others- the young- yield afresh to that fraud, but we -know life, our life is finished!" - -A whole sequence of new thoughts, hopeless but mournfully -pleasant, rose in his soul in connection with that tree. During this -journey he, as it were, considered his life afresh and arrived at -his old conclusion, restful in its hopelessness: that it was not for -him to begin anything anew- but that he must live out his life, -content to do no harm, and not disturbing himself or desiring -anything. - -CHAPTER II - -Prince Andrew had to see the Marshal of the Nobility for the -district in connection with the affairs of the Ryazan estate of -which he was trustee. This Marshal was Count Ilya Rostov, and in the -middle of May Prince Andrew went to visit him. - -It was now hot spring weather. The whole forest was already -clothed in green. It was dusty and so hot that on passing near water -one longed to bathe. - -Prince Andrew, depressed and preoccupied with the business about -which he had to speak to the Marshal, was driving up the avenue in the -grounds of the Rostovs' house at Otradnoe. He heard merry girlish -cries behind some trees on the right and saw group of girls running to -cross the path of his caleche. Ahead of the rest and nearer to him ran -a dark-haired, remarkably slim, pretty girl in a yellow chintz -dress, with a white handkerchief on her head from under which loose -locks of hair escaped. The girl was shouting something but, seeing -that he was a stranger, ran back laughing without looking at him. - -Suddenly, he did not know why, he felt a pang. The day was so -beautiful, the sun so bright, everything around so gay, but that -slim pretty girl did not know, or wish to know, of his existence and -was contented and cheerful in her own separate- probably foolish- -but bright and happy life. "What is she so glad about? What is she -thinking of? Not of the military regulations or of the arrangement -of the Ryazan serfs' quitrents. Of what is she thinking? Why is she so -happy?" Prince Andrew asked himself with instinctive curiosity. - -In 1809 Count Ilya Rostov was living at Otradnoe just as he had done -in former years, that is, entertaining almost the whole province -with hunts, theatricals, dinners, and music. He was glad to see Prince -Andrew, as he was to see any new visitor, and insisted on his -staying the night. - -During the dull day, in the course of which he was entertained by -his elderly hosts and by the more important of the visitors (the old -count's house was crowded on account of an approaching name day), -Prince Andrew repeatedly glanced at Natasha, gay and laughing among -the younger members of the company, and asked himself each time, "What -is she thinking about? Why is she so glad?" - -That night, alone in new surroundings, he was long unable to -sleep. He read awhile and then put out his candle, but relit it. It -was hot in the room, the inside shutters of which were closed. He -was cross with the stupid old man (as he called Rostov), who had -made him stay by assuring him that some necessary documents had not -yet arrived from town, and he was vexed with himself for having -stayed. - -He got up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened -the shutters the moonlight, as if it had long been watching for -this, burst into the room. He opened the casement. The night was -fresh, bright, and very still. Just before the window was a row of -pollard trees, looking black on one side and with a silvery light on -the other. Beneath the trees grewsome kind of lush, wet, bushy -vegetation with silver-lit leaves and stems here and there. Farther -back beyond the dark trees a roof glittered with dew, to the right was -a leafy tree with brilliantly white trunk and branches, and above it -shone the moon, nearly at its full, in a pale, almost starless, spring -sky. Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the window ledge and his -eyes rested on that sky. - -His room was on the first floor. Those in the rooms above were -also awake. He heard female voices overhead. - -"Just once more," said a girlish voice above him which Prince Andrew -recognized at once. - -"But when are you coming to bed?" replied another voice. - -"I won't, I can't sleep, what's the use? Come now for the last -time." - -Two girlish voices sang a musical passage- the end of some song. - -"Oh, how lovely! Now go to sleep, and there's an end of it." - -"You go to sleep, but I can't," said the first voice, coming -nearer to the window. She was evidently leaning right out, for the -rustle of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. -Everything was stone-still, like the moon and its light and the -shadows. Prince Andrew, too, dared not stir, for fear of betraying his -unintentional presence. - -"Sonya! Sonya!" he again heard the first speaker. "Oh, how can you -sleep? Only look how glorious it is! Ah, how glorious! Do wake up, -Sonya!" she said almost with tears in her voice. "There never, never -was such a lovely night before!" - -Sonya made some reluctant reply. - -"Do just come and see what a moon!... Oh, how lovely! Come -here.... Darling, sweetheart, come here! There, you see? I feel like -sitting down on my heels, putting my arms round my knees like this, -straining tight, as tight as possible, and flying away! Like this...." - -"Take care, you'll fall out." - -He heard the sound of a scuffle and Sonya's disapproving voice: -"It's past one o'clock." - -"Oh, you only spoil things for me. All right, go, go!" - -Again all was silent, but Prince Andrew knew she was still sitting -there. From time to time he heard a soft rustle and at times a sigh. - -"O God, O God! What does it mean?" she suddenly exclaimed. "To bed -then, if it must be!" and she slammed the casement. - -"For her I might as well not exist!" thought Prince Andrew while -he listened to her voice, for some reason expecting yet fearing that -she might say something about him. "There she is again! As if it -were on purpose," thought he. - -In his soul there suddenly arose such an unexpected turmoil of -youthful thoughts and hopes, contrary to the whole tenor of his -life, that unable to explain his condition to himself he lay down -and fell asleep at once. - -CHAPTER III - -Next morning, having taken leave of no one but the count, and not -waiting for the ladies to appear, Prince Andrew set off for home. - -It was already the beginning of June when on his return journey he -drove into the birch forest where the gnarled old oak had made so -strange and memorable an impression on him. In the forest the -harness bells sounded yet more muffled than they had done six weeks -before, for now all was thick, shady, and dense, and the young firs -dotted about in the forest did not jar on the general beauty but, -lending themselves to the mood around, were delicately green with -fluffy young shoots. - -The whole day had been hot. Somewhere a storm was gathering, but -only a small cloud had scattered some raindrops lightly, sprinkling -the road and the sappy leaves. The left side of the forest was dark in -the shade, the right side glittered in the sunlight, wet and shiny and -scarcely swayed by the breeze. Everything was in blossom, the -nightingales trilled, and their voices reverberated now near, now -far away. - -"Yes, here in this forest was that oak with which I agreed," thought -Prince Andrew. "But where is it?" he again wondered, gazing at the -left side of the road, and without recognizing it he looked with -admiration at the very oak he sought. The old oak, quite transfigured, -spreading out a canopy of sappy dark-green foliage, stood rapt and -slightly trembling in the rays of the evening sun. Neither gnarled -fingers nor old scars nor old doubts and sorrows were any of them in -evidence now. Through the hard century-old bark, even where there were -no twigs, leaves had sprouted such as one could hardly believe the old -veteran could have produced. - -"Yes, it is the same oak," thought Prince Andrew, and all at once he -was seized by an unreasoning springtime feeling of joy and renewal. -All the best moments of his life suddenly rose to his memory. -Austerlitz with the lofty heavens, his wife's dead reproachful face, -Pierre at the ferry, that girl thrilled by the beauty of the night, -and that night itself and the moon, and.... all this rushed suddenly -to his mind. - -"No, life is not over at thirty-one!" Prince Andrew suddenly decided -finally and decisively. "It is not enough for me to know what I have -in me- everyone must know it: Pierre, and that young girl who wanted -to fly away into the sky, everyone must know me, so that my life may -not be lived for myself alone while others live so apart from it, -but so that it may be reflected in them all, and they and I may live -in harmony!" - -On reaching home Prince Andrew decided to go to Petersburg that -autumn and found all sorts of reasons for this decision. A whole -serics of sensible and logical considerations showing it to be -essential for him to go to Petersburg, and even to re-enter the -service, kept springing up in his mind. He could not now understand -how he could ever even have doubted the necessity of taking an -active share in life, just as a month before he had not understood how -the idea of leaving the quiet country could ever enter his head. It -now seemed clear to him that all his experience of life must be -senselessly wasted unless he applied it to some kind of work and again -played an active part in life. He did not even remember how -formerly, on the strength of similar wretched logical arguments, it -had seemed obvious that he would be degrading himself if he now, after -the lessons he had had in life, allowed himself to believe in the -possibility of being useful and in the possibility of happiness or -love. Now reason suggested quite the opposite. After that journey to -Ryazan he found the country dull; his former pursuits no longer -interested him, and often when sitting alone in his study he got up, -went to the mirror, and gazed a long time at his own face. Then he -would turn away to the portrait of his dead Lise, who with hair curled -a la grecque looked tenderly and gaily at him out of the gilt frame. -She did not now say those former terrible words to him, but looked -simply, merrily, and inquisitively at him. And Prince Andrew, crossing -his arms behind him, long paced the room, now frowning, now smiling, -as he reflected on those irrational, inexpressible thoughts, secret as -a crime, which altered his whole life and were connected with -Pierre, with fame, with the girl at the window, the oak, and woman's -beauty and love. And if anyone came into his room at such moments he -was particularly cold, stern, and above all unpleasantly logical. - -"My dear," Princess Mary entering at such a moment would say, -"little Nicholas can't go out today, it's very cold." - -"If it were hot," Prince Andrew would reply at such times very dryly -to his sister, "he could go out in his smock, but as it is cold he -must wear warm clothes, which were designed for that purpose. That -is what follows from the fact that it is cold; and not that a child -who needs fresh air should remain at home," he would add with -extreme logic, as if punishing someone for those secret illogical -emotions that stirred within him. - -At such moments Princess Mary would think how intellectual work -dries men up. - -CHAPTER IV - -Prince Andrew arrived in Petersburg in August, 1809. It was the time -when the youthful Speranski was at the zenith of his fame and his -reforms were being pushed forward with the greatest energy. That -same August the Emperor was thrown from his caleche, injured his -leg, and remained three weeks at Peterhof, receiving Speranski every -day and no one else. At that time the two famous decrees were being -prepared that so agitated society- abolishing court ranks and -introducing examinations to qualify for the grades of Collegiate -Assessor and State Councilor- and not merely these but a whole state -constitution, intended to change the existing order of government in -Russia: legal, administrative, and financial, from the Council of -State down to the district tribunals. Now those vague liberal dreams -with which the Emperor Alexander had ascended the throne, and which he -had tried to put into effect with the aid of his associates, -Czartoryski, Novosiltsev, Kochubey, and Strogonov- whom he himself -in jest had called his Comite de salut public- were taking shape and -being realized. - -Now all these men were replaced by Speranski on the civil side, -and Arakcheev on the military. Soon after his arrival Prince Andrew, -as a gentleman of the chamber, presented himself at court and at a -levee. The Emperor, though he met him twice, did not favor him with -a single word. It had always seemed to Prince Andrew before that he -was antipathetic to the Emperor and that the latter disliked his -face and personality generally, and in the cold, repellent glance -the Emperor gave him, he now found further confirmation of this -surmise. The courtiers explained the Emperor's neglect of him by His -Majesty's displeasure at Bolkonski's not having served since 1805. - -"I know myself that one cannot help one's sympathies and -antipathies," thought Prince Andrew, "so it will not do to present -my proposal for the reform of the army regulations to the Emperor -personally, but the project will speak for itself." - -He mentioned what he had written to an old field marshal, a friend -of his father's. The field marshal made an appointment to see him, -received him graciously, and promised to inform the Emperor. A few -days later Prince Andrew received notice that he was to go to see -the Minister of War, Count Arakcheev. - -On the appointed day Prince Andrew entered Count Arakcheev's waiting -room at nine in the morning. - -He did not know Arakcheev personally, had never seen him, and all he -had heard of him inspired him with but little respect for the man. - -"He is Minister of War, a man trusted by the Emperor, and I need not -concern myself about his personal qualities: he has been -commissioned to consider my project, so he alone can get it -adopted," thought Prince Andrew as he waited among a number of -important and unimportant people in Count Arakcheev's waiting room. - -During his service, chiefly as an adjutant, Prince Andrew had seen -the anterooms of many important men, and the different types of such -rooms were well known to him. Count Arakcheev's anteroom had quite a -special character. The faces of the unimportant people awaiting -their turn for an audience showed embarrassment and servility; the -faces of those of higher rank expressed a common feeling of -awkwardness, covered by a mask of unconcern and ridicule of -themselves, their situation, and the person for whom they were -waiting. Some walked thoughtfully up and down, others whispered and -laughed. Prince Andrew heard the nickname "Sila Andreevich" and the -words, "Uncle will give it to us hot," in reference to Count -Arakcheev. One general (an important personage), evidently feeling -offended at having to wait so long, sat crossing and uncrossing his -legs and smiling contemptuously to himself. - -But the moment the door opened one feeling alone appeared on all -faces- that of fear. Prince Andrew for the second time asked the -adjutant on duty to take in his name, but received an ironical look -and was told that his turn would come in due course. After some others -had been shown in and out of the minister's room by the adjutant on -duty, an officer who struck Prince Andrew by his humiliated and -frightened air was admitted at that terrible door. This officer's -audience lasted a long time. Then suddenly the grating sound of a -harsh voice was heard from the other side of the door, and the -officer- with pale face and trembling lips- came out and passed -through the waiting room, clutching his head. - -After this Prince Andrew was conducted to the door and the officer -on duty said in a whisper, "To the right, at the window." - -Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man -of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep -wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an -overhanging red nose. Arakcheev turned his head toward him without -looking at him. - -"What is your petition?" asked Arakcheev. - -"I am not petitioning, your excellency," returned Prince Andrew -quietly. - -Arakcheev's eyes turned toward him. - -"Sit down," said he. "Prince Bolkonski?" - -"I am not petitioning about anything. His Majesty the Emperor has -deigned to send your excellency a project submitted by me..." - -"You see, my dear sir, I have read your project," interrupted -Arakcheev, uttering only the first words amiably and then- again -without looking at Prince Andrew- relapsing gradually into a tone of -grumbling contempt. "You are proposing new military laws? There are -many laws but no one to carry out the old ones. Nowadays everybody -designs laws, it is easier writing than doing." - -"I came at His Majesty the Emperor's wish to learn from your -excellency how you propose to deal with the memorandum I have -presented," said Prince Andrew politely. - -"I have endorsed a resolution on your memorandum and sent it to -the committee. I do not approve of it," said Arakcheev, rising and -taking a paper from his writing table. "Here!" and he handed it to -Prince Andrew. - -Across the paper was scrawled in pencil, without capital letters, -misspelled, and without punctuation: "Unsoundly constructed because -resembles an imitation of the French military code and from the -Articles of War needlessly deviating." - -"To what committee has the memorandum been referred?" inquired -Prince Andrew. - -"To the Committee on Army Regulations, and I have recommended that -your honor should be appointed a member, but without a salary." - -Prince Andrew smiled. - -"I don't want one." - -"A member without salary," repeated Arakcheev. "I have the -honor... Eh! Call the next one! Who else is there?" he shouted, bowing -to Prince Andrew. - -CHAPTER V - -While waiting for the announcement of his appointment to the -committee Prince Andrew looked up his former acquaintances, -particularly those he knew to be in power and whose aid he might need. -In Petersburg he now experienced the same feeling he had had on the -eve of a battle, when troubled by anxious curiosity and irresistibly -attracted to the ruling circles where the future, on which the fate of -millions depended, was being shaped. From the irritation of the -older men, the curiosity of the uninitiated. the reserve of the -initiated, the hurry and preoccupation of everyone, and the -innumerable committees and commissions of whose existence he learned -every day, he felt that now, in 1809, here in Petersburg a vast -civil conflict was in preparation, the commander in chief of which was -a mysterious person he did not know, but who was supposed to be a -man of genius- Speranski. And this movement of reconstruction of which -Prince Andrew had a vague idea, and Speranski its chief promoter, -began to interest him so keenly that the question of the army -regulations quickly receded to a secondary place in his consciousness. - -Prince Andrew was most favorably placed to secure good reception -in the highest and most diverse Petersburg circles of the day. The -reforming party cordially welcomed and courted him, the first place -because he was reputed to be clever and very well read, and secondly -because by liberating his serfs he had obtained the reputation of -being a liberal. The party of the old and dissatisfied, who censured -the innovations, turned to him expecting his sympathy in their -disapproval of the reforms, simply because he was the son of his -father. The feminine society world welcomed him gladly, because he was -rich, distinguished, a good match, and almost a newcomer, with a -halo of romance on account of his supposed death and the tragic loss -of his wife. Besides this the general opinion of all who had known him -previously was that he had greatly improved during these last five -years, having softened and grown more manly, lost his former -affectation, pride, and contemptuous irony, and acquired the -serenity that comes with years. People talked about him, were -interested in him, and wanted to meet him. - -The day after his interview with Count Arakcheev, Prince Andrew -spent the evening at Count Kochubey's. He told the count of his -interview with Sila Andreevich (Kochubey spoke of Arakcheev by that -nickname with the same vague irony Prince Andrew had noticed in the -Minister of War's anteroom). - -"Mon cher, even in this case you can't do without Michael -Mikhaylovich Speranski. He manages everything. I'll speak to him. He -has promised to come this evening." - -"What has Speranski to do with the army regulations?" asked Prince -Andrew. - -Kochubey shook his head smilingly, as if surprised at Bolkonski's -simplicity. - -"We were talking to him about you a few days ago," Kochubey -continued, "and about your freed plowmen." - -"Oh, is it you, Prince, who have freed your serfs?" said an old -man of Catherine's day, turning contemptuously toward Bolkonski. - -"It was a small estate that brought in no profit," replied Prince -Andrew, trying to extenuate his action so as not to irritate the old -man uselessly. - -"Afraid of being late..." said the old man, looking at Kochubey. - -"There's one thing I don't understand," he continued. "Who will plow -the land if they are set free? It is easy to write laws, but difficult -to rule.... Just the same as now- I ask you, Count- who will be -heads of the departments when everybody has to pass examinations?" - -"Those who pass the examinations, I suppose," replied Kochubey, -crossing his legs and glancing round. - -"Well, I have Pryanichnikov serving under me, a splendid man, a -priceless man, but he's sixty. Is he to go up for examination?" - -"Yes, that's a difficulty, as education is not at all general, -but..." - -Count Kochubey did not finish. He rose, took Prince Andrew by the -arm, and went to meet a tall, bald, fair man of about forty with a -large open forehead and a long face of unusual and peculiar whiteness, -who was just entering. The newcomer wore a blue swallow-tail coat with -a cross suspended from his neck and a star on his left breast. It -was Speranski. Prince Andrew recognized him at once, and felt a -throb within him, as happens at critical moments of life. Whether it -was from respect, envy, or anticipation, he did not know. -Speranski's whole figure was of a peculiar type that made him easily -recognizable. In the society in which Prince Andrew lived he had never -seen anyone who together with awkward and clumsy gestures possessed -such calmness and self-assurance; he had never seen so resolute yet -gentle an expression as that in those half-closed, rather humid -eyes, or so firm a smile that expressed nothing; nor had he heard such -a refined, smooth, soft voice; above all he had never seen such -delicate whiteness of face or hands- hands which were broad, but -very plump, soft, and white. Such whiteness and softness Prince Andrew -had only seen on the faces of soldiers who had been long in -hospital. This was Speranski, Secretary of State, reporter to the -Emperor and his companion at Erfurt, where he had more than once met -and talked with Napoleon. - -Speranski did not shift his eyes from one face to another as -people involuntarily do on entering a large company and was in no -hurry to speak. He spoke slowly, with assurance that he would be -listened to, and he looked only at the person with whom he was -conversing. - -Prince Andrew followed Speranski's every word and movement with -particular attention. As happens to some people, especially to men who -judge those near to them severely, he always on meeting anyone new- -especially anyone whom, like Speranski, he knew by reputation- -expected to discover in him the perfection of human qualities. - -Speranski told Kochubey he was sorry he had been unable to come -sooner as he had been detained at the palace. He did not say that -the Emperor had kept him, and Prince Andrew noticed this affectation -of modesty. When Kochubey introduced Prince Andrew, Speranski slowly -turned his eyes to Bolkonski with his customary smile and looked at -him in silence. - -"I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I had heard of you, as -everyone has," he said after a pause. - -Kochubey said a few words about the reception Arakcheev had given -Bolkonski. Speranski smiled more markedly. - -"The chairman of the Committee on Army Regulations is my good friend -Monsieur Magnitski," he said, fully articulating every word and -syllable, "and if you like I can put you in touch with him." He paused -at the full stop. "I hope you will find him sympathetic and ready to -co-operate in promoting all that is reasonable." - -A circle soon formed round Speranski, and the old man who had talked -about his subordinate Pryanichnikov addressed a question to him. - -Prince Andrew without joining in the conversation watched every -movement of Speranski's: this man, not long since an insignificant -divinity student, who now, Bolkonski thought, held in his hands- those -plump white hands- the fate of Russia. Prince Andrew was struck by the -extraordinarily disdainful composure with which Speranski answered the -old man. He appeared to address condescending words to him from an -immeasurable height. When the old man began to speak too loud, -Speranski smiled and said he could not judge of the advantage or -disadvantage of what pleased the sovereign. - -Having talked for a little while in the general circle, Speranski -rose and coming up to Prince Andrew took him along to the other end of -the room. It was clear that he thought it necessary to interest -himself in Bolkonski. - -"I had no chance to talk with you, Prince, during the animated -conversation in which that venerable gentleman involved me," he said -with a mildly contemptuous smile, as if intimating by that smile -that he and Prince Andrew understood the insignificance of the -people with whom he had just been talking. This flattered Prince -Andrew. "I have known of you for a long time: first from your action -with regard to your serfs, a first example, of which it is very -desirable that there should be more imitators; and secondly because -you are one of those gentlemen of the chamber who have not -considered themselves offended by the new decree concerning the -ranks allotted to courtiers, which is causing so much gossip and -tittle-tattle." - -"No," said Prince Andrew, "my father did not wish me to take -advantage of the privilege. I began the service from the lower grade." - -"Your father, a man of the last century, evidently stands above -our contemporaries who so condemn this measure which merely -reestablishes natural justice." - -"I think, however, that these condemnations have some ground," -returned Prince Andrew, trying to resist Speranski's influence, of -which he began to be conscious. He did not like to agree with him in -everything and felt a wish to contradict. Though he usually spoke -easily and well, he felt a difficulty in expressing himself now -while talking with Speranski. He was too much absorbed in observing -the famous man's personality. - -"Grounds of personal ambition maybe," Speranski put in quietly. - -"And of state interest to some extent," said Prince Andrew. - -"What do you mean?" asked Speranski quietly, lowering his eyes. - -"I am an admirer of Montesquieu," replied Prince Andrew, "and his -idea that le principe des monarchies est l'honneur me parait -incontestable. Certains droits et privileges de la noblesse me -paraissent etre des moyens de soutenir ce sentiment."~{ "The principle of monarchies is honor seems to me incontestable. -Certain rights and privileges for the aristocracy appear to me a means -of maintaining that sentiment." }~ - -The smile vanished from Speranski's white face, which was much -improved by the change. Probably Prince Andrew's thought interested -him. - -"Si vous envisagez la question sous ce point de vue,"~{ "If you regard the question from that point of view." }~ he began, -pronouncing French with evident difficulty, and speaking even slower -than in Russian but quite calmly. - -Speranski went on to say that honor, l'honeur, cannot be upheld by -privileges harmful to the service; that honor, l'honneur, is either -a negative concept of not doing what is blameworthy or it is a -source of emulation in pursuit of commendation and rewards, which -recognize it. His arguments were concise, simple, and clear. - -"An institution upholding honor, the source of emulation, is one -similar to the Legion d'honneur of the great Emperor Napoleon, not -harmful but helpful to the success of the service, but not a class -or court privilege." - -"I do not dispute that, but it cannot be denied that court -privileges have attained the same end," returned Prince Andrew. "Every -courtier considers himself bound to maintain his position worthily." - -"Yet you do not care to avail yourself of the privilege, Prince," -said Speranski, indicating by a smile that he wished to finish amiably -an argument which was embarrassing for his companion. "If you will - -do me the honor of calling on me on Wednesday," he added, "I will, -after talking with Magnitski, let you know what may interest you, -and shall also have the pleasure of a more detailed chat with you." - -Closing his eyes, he bowed a la francaise, without taking leave, and -trying to attract as little attention as possible, he left the room. - -CHAPTER VI - -During the first weeks of his stay in Petersburg Prince Andrew -felt the whole trend of thought he had formed during his life of -seclusion quite overshadowed by the trifling cares that engrossed -him in that city. - -On returning home in the evening he would jot down in his notebook -four or five necessary calls or appointments for certain hours. The -mechanism of life, the arrangement of the day so as to be in time -everywhere, absorbed the greater part of his vital energy. He did -nothing, did not even think or find time to think, but only talked, -and talked successfully, of what he had thought while in the country. - -He sometimes noticed with dissatisfaction that he repeated the -same remark on the same day in different circles. But he was so busy -for whole days together that he had no time to notice that he was -thinking of nothing. - -As he had done on their first meeting at Kochubey's, Speranski -produced a strong impression on Prince Andrew on the Wednesday, when -he received him tete-a-tate at his own house and talked to him long -and confidentially. - -To Bolkonski so many people appeared contemptible and -insignificant creatures, and he so longed to find in someone the -living ideal of that perfection toward which he strove, that he -readily believed that in Speranski he had found this ideal of a -perfectly rational and virtuous man. Had Speranski sprung from the -same class as himself and possessed the same breeding and -traditions, Bolkonski would soon have discovered his weak, human, -unheroic sides; but as it was, Speranski's strange and logical turn of -mind inspired him with respect all the more because he did not quite -understand him. Moreover, Speranski, either because he appreciated the -other's capacity or because he considered it necessary to win him to -his side, showed off his dispassionate calm reasonableness before -Prince Andrew and flattered him with that subtle flattery which goes -hand in hand with self-assurance and consists in a tacit assumption -that one's companion is the only man besides oneself capable of -understanding the folly of the rest of mankind and the -reasonableness and profundity of one's own ideas. - -During their long conversation on Wednesday evening, Speranski -more than once remarked: "We regard everything that is above the -common level of rooted custom..." or, with a smile: "But we want the -wolves to be fed and the sheep to be safe..." or: "They cannot -understand this..." and all in a way that seemed to say: "We, you -and I, understand what they are and who we are." - -This first long conversation with Speranski only strengthened in -Prince Andrew the feeling he had experienced toward him at their first -meeting. He saw in him a remarkable, clear-thinking man of vast -intellect who by his energy and persistence had attained power, -which he was using solely for the welfare of Russia. In Prince -Andrew's eyes Speranski was the man he would himself have wished to -be- one who explained all the facts of life reasonably, considered -important only what was rational, and was capable of applying the -standard of reason to everything. Everything seemed so simple and -clear in Speranski's exposition that Prince Andrew involuntarily -agreed with him about everything. If he replied and argued, it was -only because he wished to maintain his independence and not submit -to Speranski's opinions entirely. Everything was right and -everything was as it should be: only one thing disconcerted Prince -Andrew. This was Speranski's cold, mirrorlike look, which did not -allow one to penetrate to his soul, and his delicate white hands, -which Prince Andrew involuntarily watched as one does watch the -hands of those who possess power. This mirrorlike gaze and those -delicate hands irritated Prince Andrew, he knew not why. He was -unpleasantly struck, too, by the excessive contempt for others that he -observed in Speranski, and by the diversity of lines of argument he -used to support his opinions. He made use of every kind of mental -device, except analogy, and passed too boldly, it seemed to Prince -Andrew, from one to another. Now he would take up the position of a -practical man and condemn dreamers; now that of a satirist, and -laugh ironically at his opponents; now grow severely logical, or -suddenly rise to the realm of metaphysics. (This last resource was one -he very frequently employed.) He would transfer a question to -metaphysical heights, pass on to definitions of space, time, and -thought, and, having deduced the refutation he needed, would again -descend to the level of the original discussion. - -In general the trait of Speranski's mentality which struck Prince -Andrew most was his absolute and unshakable belief in the power and -authority of reason. It was evident that the thought could never occur -to him which to Prince Andrew seemed so natural, namely, that it is -after all impossible to express all one thinks; and that he had -never felt the doubt, "Is not all I think and believe nonsense?" And -it was just this peculiarity of Speranski's mind that particularly -attracted Prince Andrew. - -During the first period of their acquaintance Bolkonski felt a -passionate admiration for him similar to that which he had once felt -for Bonaparte. The fact that Speranski was the son of a village -priest, and that stupid people might meanly despise him on account -of his humble origin (as in fact many did), caused Prince Andrew to -cherish his sentiment for him the more, and unconsciously to -strengthen it. - -On that first evening Bolkonski spent with him, having mentioned the -Commission for the Revision of the Code of Laws, Speranski told him -sarcastically that the Commission had existed for a hundred and -fifty years, had cost millions, and had done nothing except that -Rosenkampf had stuck labels on the corresponding paragraphs of the -different codes. - -"And that is all the state has for the millions it has spent," -said he. "We want to give the Senate new juridical powers, but we have -no laws. That is why it is a sin for men like you, Prince, not to -serve in these times!" - -Prince Andrew said that for that work an education in -jurisprudence was needed which he did not possess. - -"But nobody possesses it, so what would you have? It is a vicious -circle from which we must break a way out." - -A week later Prince Andrew was a member of the Committee on Army -Regulations and- what he had not at all expected- was chairman of a -section of the committee for the revision of the laws. At -Speranski's request he took the first part of the Civil Code that -was being drawn up and, with the aid of the Code Napoleon and the -Institutes of Justinian, he worked at formulating the section on -Personal Rights. - -CHAPTER VII - -Nearly two years before this, in 1808, Pierre on returning to -Petersburg after visiting his estates had involuntarily found -himself in a leading position among the Petersburg Freemasons. He -arranged dining and funeral lodge meetings, enrolled new members, -and busied himself uniting various lodges and acquiring authentic -charters. He gave money for the erection of temples and supplemented -as far as he could the collection of alms, in regard to which the -majority of members were stingy and irregular. He supported almost -singlehanded a poorhouse the order had founded in Petersburg. - -His life meanwhile continued as before, with the same infatuations -and dissipations. He liked to dine and drink well, and though he -considered it immoral and humiliating could not resist the temptations -of the bachelor circles in which he moved. - -Amid the turmoil of his activities and distractions, however, Pierre -at the end of a year began to feel that the more firmly he tried to -rest upon it, the more Masonic ground on which he stood gave way under -him. At the same time he felt that the deeper the ground sank under -him the closer bound he involuntarily became to the order. When he had -joined the Freemasons he had experienced the feeling of one who -confidently steps onto the smooth surface of a bog. When he put his -foot down it sank in. To make quite sure of the firmness the ground, -he put his other foot down and sank deeper still, became stuck in -it, and involuntarily waded knee-deep in the bog. - -Joseph Alexeevich was not in Petersburg- he had of late stood -aside from the affairs of the Petersburg lodges, and lived almost -entirely in Moscow. All the members of the lodges were men Pierre knew -in ordinary life, and it was difficult for him to regard them merely -as Brothers in Freemasonry and not as Prince B. or Ivan Vasilevich D., -whom he knew in society mostly as weak and insignificant men. Under -the Masonic aprons and insignia he saw the uniforms and decorations at -which they aimed in ordinary life. Often after collecting alms, and -reckoning up twenty to thirty rubles received for the most part in -promises from a dozen members, of whom half were as well able to pay -as himself, Pierre remembered the Masonic vow in which each Brother -promised to devote all his belongings to his neighbor, and doubts on -which he tried not to dwell arose in his soul. - -He divided the Brothers he knew into four categories. In the first -he put those who did not take an active part in the affairs of the -lodges or in human affairs, but were exclusively occupied with the -mystical science of the order: with questions of the threefold -designation of God, the three primordial elements- sulphur, mercury, -and salt- or the meaning of the square and all the various figures -of the temple of Solomon. Pierre respected this class of Brothers to -which the elder ones chiefly belonged, including, Pierre thought, -Joseph Alexeevich himself, but he did not share their interests. His -heart was not in the mystical aspect of Freemasonry. - -In the second category Pierre reckoned himself and others like -him, seeking and vacillating, who had not yet found in Freemasonry a -straight and comprehensible path, but hoped to do so. - -In the third category he included those Brothers (the majority) -who saw nothing in Freemasonry but the external forms and -ceremonies, and prized the strict performance of these forms without -troubling about their purport or significance. Such were Willarski and -even the Grand Master of the principal lodge. - -Finally, to the fourth category also a great many Brothers belonged, -particularly those who had lately joined. These according to -Pierre's observations were men who had no belief in anything, nor -desire for anything, but joined the Freemasons merely to associate -with the wealthy young Brothers who were influential through their -connections or rank, and of whom there were very many in the lodge. - -Pierre began to feel dissatisfied with what he was doing. -Freemasonry, at any rate as he saw it here, sometimes seemed to him -based merely on externals. He did not think of doubting Freemasonry -itself, but suspected that Russian Masonry had taken a wrong path -and deviated from its original principles. And so toward the end of -the year he went abroad to be initiated into the higher secrets of the -order. - -In the summer of 1809 Pierre returned to Petersburg. Our -Freemasons knew from correspondence with those abroad that Bezukhov -had obtained the confidence of many highly placed persons, had been -initiated into many mysteries, had been raised to a higher grade, -and was bringing back with him much that might conduce to the -advantage of the Masonic cause in Russia. The Petersburg Freemasons -all came to see him, tried to ingratiate themselves with him, and it -seemed to them all that he was preparing something for them and -concealing it. - -A solemn meeting of the lodge of the second degree was convened, -at which Pierre promised to communicate to the Petersburg Brothers -what he had to deliver to them from the highest leaders of their -order. The meeting was a full one. After the usual ceremonies Pierre -rose and began his address. - -"Dear Brothers," he began, blushing and stammering, with a written -speech in his hand, "it is not sufficient to observe our mysteries -in the seclusion of our lodge- we must act- act! We are drowsing, -but we must act." Pierre raised his notebook and began to read. - -"For the dissemination of pure truth and to secure the triumph of -virtue," he read, "we must cleanse men from prejudice, diffuse -principles in harmony with the spirit of the times, undertake the -education of the young, unite ourselves in indissoluble bonds with the -wisest men, boldly yet prudently overcome superstitions, infidelity, -and folly, and form of those devoted to us a body linked together by -unity of purpose and possessed of authority and power. - -"To attain this end we must secure a preponderance of virtue over -vice and must endeavor to secure that the honest man may, even in this -world, receive a lasting reward for his virtue. But in these great -endeavors we are gravely hampered by the political institutions of -today. What is to be done in these circumstances? To favor -revolutions, overthrow everything, repel force by force?... No! We are -very far from that. Every violent reform deserves censure, for it -quite fails to remedy evil while men remain what they are, and also -because wisdom needs no violence. - -"The whole plan of our order should be based on the idea of -preparing men of firmness and virtue bound together by unity of -conviction- aiming at the punishment of vice and folly, and -patronizing talent and virtue: raising worthy men from the dust and -attaching them to our Brotherhood. Only then will our order have the -power unobtrusively to bind the hands of the protectors of disorder -and to control them without their being aware of it. In a word, we -must found a form of government holding universal sway, which should -be diffused over the whole world without destroying the bonds of -citizenship, and beside which all other governments can continue in -their customary course and do everything except what impedes the great -aim of our order, which is to obtain for virtue the victory over vice. -This aim was that of Christianity itself. It taught men to be wise and -good and for their own benefit to follow the example and instruction -of the best and wisest men. - -"At that time, when everything was plunged in darkness, preaching -alone was of course sufficient. The novelty of Truth endowed her -with special strength, but now we need much more powerful methods. -It is now necessary that man, governed by his senses, should find in -virtue a charm palpable to those senses. It is impossible to eradicate -the passions; but we must strive to direct them to a noble aim, and it -is therefore necessary that everyone should be able to satisfy his -passions within the limits of virtue. Our order should provide means -to that end. - -"As soon as we have a certain number of worthy men in every state, -each of them again training two others and all being closely united, -everything will be possible for our order, which has already in secret -accomplished much for the welfare of mankind." - -This speech not only made a strong impression, but created -excitement in the lodge. The majority of the Brothers, seeing in it -dangerous designs of Illuminism,~{ The Illuminati sought to substitute republican for monarchical -institutions. }~ met it with a coldness that -surprised Pierre. The Grand Master began answering him, and Pierre -began developing his views with more and more warmth. It was long -since there had been so stormy a meeting. Parties were formed, some -accusing Pierre of Illuminism, others supporting him. At that -meeting he was struck for the first time by the endless variety of -men's minds, which prevents a truth from ever presenting itself -identically to two persons. Even those members who seemed to be on his -side understood him in their own way with limitations and -alterations he could not agree to, as what he always wanted most was -to convey his thought to others just as he himself understood it. - -At the end of the meeting the Grand Master with irony and ill-will -reproved Bezukhov for his vehemence and said it was not love of virtue -alone, but also a love of strife that had moved him in the dispute. -Pierre did not answer him and asked briefly whether his proposal would -be accepted. He was told that it would not, and without waiting for -the usual formalities he left the lodge and went home. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Again Pierre was overtaken by the depression he so dreaded. For -three days after the delivery of his speech at the lodge he lay on a -sofa at home receiving no one and going nowhere. - -It was just then that he received a letter from his wife, who -implored him to see her, telling him how grieved she was about him and -how she wished to devote her whole life to him. - -At the end of the letter she informed him that in a few days she -would return to Petersburg from abroad. - -Following this letter one of the Masonic Brothers whom Pierre -respected less than the others forced his way in to see him and, -turning the conversation upon Pierre's matrimonial affairs, by way -of fraternal advice expressed the opinion that his severity to his -wife was wrong and that he was neglecting one of the first rules of -Freemasonry by not forgiving the penitent. - -At the same time his mother-in-law, Prince Vasili's wife, sent to -him imploring him to come if only for a few minutes to discuss a -most important matter. Pierre saw that there was a conspiracy -against him and that they wanted to reunite him with his wife, and -in the mood he then was, this was not even unpleasant to him. -Nothing mattered to him. Nothing in life seemed to him of much -importance, and under the influence of the depression that possessed -him he valued neither his liberty nor his resolution to punish his -wife. - -"No one is right and no one is to blame; so she too is not to -blame," he thought. - -If he did not at once give his consent to a reunion with his wife, -it was only because in his state of depression he did not feel able to -take any step. Had his wife come to him, he would not have turned -her away. Compared to what preoccupied him, was it not a matter of -indifference whether he lived with his wife or not? - -Without replying either to his wife or his mother-in-law, Pierre -late one night prepared for a journey and started for Moscow to see -Joseph Alexeevich. This is what he noted in his diary: - -Moscow, 17th November - -I have just returned from my benefactor, and hasten to write down -what I have experienced. Joseph Alexeevich is living poorly and has -for three years been suffering from a painful disease of the -bladder. No one has ever heard him utter a groan or a word of -complaint. From morning till late at night, except when he eats his -very plain food, he is working at science. He received me graciously -and made me sit down on the bed on which he lay. I made the sign of -the Knights of the East and of Jerusalem, and he responded in the same -manner, asking me with a mild smile what I had learned and gained in -the Prussian and Scottish lodges. I told him everything as best I -could, and told him what I had proposed to our Petersburg lodge, of -the bad reception I had encountered, and of my rupture with the -Brothers. Joseph Alexeevich, having remained silent and thoughtful for -a good while, told me his view of the matter, which at once lit up for -me my whole past and the future path I should follow. He surprised -me by asking whether I remembered the threefold aim of the order: -(1) The preservation and study of the mystery. (2) The purification -and reformation of oneself for its reception, and (3) The -improvement of the human race by striving for such purification. Which -is the principal aim of these three? Certainly self-reformation and -self-purification. Only to this aim can we always strive independently -of circumstances. But at the same time just this aim demands the -greatest efforts of us; and so, led astray by pride, losing sight of -this aim, we occupy ourselves either with the mystery which in our -impurity we are unworthy to receive, or seek the reformation of the -human race while ourselves setting an example of baseness and -profligacy. Illuminism is not a pure doctrine, just because it is -attracted by social activity and puffed up by pride. On this ground -Joseph Alexeevich condemned my speech and my whole activity, and in -the depth of my soul I agreed with him. Talking of my family affairs -he said to me, "the chief duty of a true Mason, as I have told you, -lies in perfecting himself. We often think that by removing all the -difficulties of our life we shall more quickly reach our aim, but on -the contrary, my dear sir, it is only in the midst of worldly cares -that we can attain our three chief aims: (1) Self-knowledge- for man -can only know himself by comparison, (2) Self-perfecting, which can -only be attained by conflict, and (3) The attainment of the chief -virtue- love of death. Only the vicissitudes of life can show us its -vanity and develop our innate love of death or of rebirth to a new -life." These words are all the more remarkable because, in spite of -his great physical sufferings, Joseph Alexeevich is never weary of -life though he loves death, for which- in spite of the purity and -loftiness of his inner man- he does not yet feel himself -sufficiently prepared. My benefactor then explained to me fully the -meaning of the Great Square of creation and pointed out to me that the -numbers three and seven are the basis of everything. He advised me not -to avoid intercourse with the Petersburg Brothers, but to take up only -second-grade posts in the lodge, to try, while diverting the -Brothers from pride, to turn them toward the true path -self-knowledge and self-perfecting. Besides this he advised me for -myself personally above all to keep a watch over myself, and to that -end he gave me a notebook, the one I am now writing in and in which -I will in future note down all my actions. - -Petersburg, 23rd November - -I am again living with my wife. My mother-in-law came to me in tears -and said that Helene was here and that she implored me to hear her; -that she was innocent and unhappy at my desertion, and much more. I -knew that if I once let myself see her I should not have strength to -go on refusing what she wanted. In my perplexity I did not know -whose aid and advice to seek. Had my benefactor been here he would -have told me what to do. I went to my room and reread Joseph -Alexeevich's letters and recalled my conversations with him, and -deduced from it all that I ought not to refuse a suppliant, and -ought to reach a helping hand to everyone- especially to one so -closely bound to me- and that I must bear my cross. But if I forgive -her for the sake of doing right, then let union with her have only a -spiritual aim. That is what I decided, and what I wrote to Joseph -Alexeevich. I told my wife that I begged her to forget the past, to -forgive me whatever wrong I may have done her, and that I had -nothing to forgive. It gave me joy to tell her this. She need not know -how hard it was for me to see her again. I have settled on the upper -floor of this big house and am experiencing a happy feeling of -regeneration. - -CHAPTER IX - -At that time, as always happens, the highest society that met at -court and at the grand balls was divided into several circles, each -with its own particular tone. The largest of these was the French -circle of the Napoleonic alliance, the circle of Count Rumyantsev -and Caulaincourt. In this group Helene, as soon as she had settled -in Petersburg with her husband, took a very prominent place. She was -visited by the members of the French embassy and by many belonging -to that circle and noted for their intellect and polished manners. - -Helene had been at Erfurt during the famous meeting of the -Emperors and had brought from there these connections with the -Napoleonic notabilities. At Erfurt her success had been brilliant. -Napoleon himself had noticed her in the theater and said of her: -"C'est un superbe animal."~{ "That's a superb animal." }~ Her success as a beautiful and elegant -woman did not surprise Pierre, for she had become even handsomer -than before. What did surprise him was that during these last two -years his wife had succeeded in gaining the reputation "d' une femme -charmante, aussi spirituelle que belle."~{ "Of a charming woman, as witty as she is lovely." }~ The distinguished -Prince de Ligne wrote her eight-page letters. Bilibin saved up his -epigrams to produce them in Countess Bezukhova's presence. To be -received in the Countess Bezukhova's salon was regarded as a diploma -of intellect. Young men read books before attending Helene's evenings, -to have something to say in her salon, and secretaries of the embassy, -and even ambassadors, confided diplomatic secrets to her, so that in a -way Helene was a power. Pierre, who knew she was very stupid, -sometimes attended, with a strange feeling of perplexity and fear, her -evenings and dinner parties, where politics, poetry, and philosophy -were discussed. At these parties his feelings were like those of a -conjuror who always expects his trick to be found out at any moment. -But whether because stupidity was just what was needed to run such a -salon, or because those who were deceived found pleasure in the -deception, at any rate it remained unexposed and Helene Bezukhova's -reputation as a lovely and clever woman became so firmly established -that she could say the emptiest and stupidest things and everybody -would go into raptures over every word of hers and look for a profound -meaning in it of which she herself had no conception. - -Pierre was just the husband needed for a brilliant society woman. He -was that absent-minded crank, a grand seigneur husband who was in no -one's way, and far from spoiling the high tone and general -impression of the drawing room, he served, by the contrast he -presented to her, as an advantageous background to his elegant and -tactful wife. Pierre during the last two years, as a result of his -continual absorption in abstract interests and his sincere contempt -for all else, had acquired in his wife's circle, which did not -interest him, that air of unconcern, indifference, and benevolence -toward all, which cannot be acquired artificially and therefore -inspires involuntary respect. He entered his wife's drawing room as -one enters a theater, was acquainted with everybody, equally pleased -to see everyone, and equally indifferent to them all. Sometimes he -joined in a conversation which interested him and, regardless of -whether any "gentlemen of the embassy" were present or not, -lispingly expressed his views, which were sometimes not at all in -accord with the accepted tone of the moment. But the general opinion -concerning the queer husband of "the most distinguished woman in -Petersburg" was so well established that no one took his freaks -seriously. - -Among the many young men who frequented her house every day, Boris -Drubetskoy, who had already achieved great success in the service, was -the most intimate friend of the Bezukhov household since Helene's -return from Erfurt. Helene spoke of him as "mon page" and treated -him like a child. Her smile for him was the same as for everybody, but -sometimes that smile made Pierre uncomfortable. Toward him Boris -behaved with a particularly dignified and sad deference. This shade of -deference also disturbed Pierre. He had suffered so painfully three -years before from the mortification to which his wife had subjected -him that he now protected himself from the danger of its repetition, -first by not being a husband to his wife, and secondly by not allowing -himself to suspect. - -"No, now that she has become a bluestocking she has finally -renounced her former infatuations," he told himself. "There has -never been an instance of a bluestocking being carried away by affairs -of the heart"- a statement which, though gathered from an unknown -source, he believed implicitly. Yet strange to say Boris' presence -in his wife's drawing room (and he was almost always there) had a -physical effect upon Pierre; it constricted his limbs and destroyed -the unconsciousness and freedom of his movements. - -"What a strange antipathy," thought Pierre, "yet I used to like -him very much." - -In the eyes of the world Pierre was a great gentleman, the rather -blind and absurd husband of a distinguished wife, a clever crank who -did nothing but harmed nobody and was a first-rate, good-natured -fellow. But a complex and difficult process of internal development -was taking place all this time in Pierre's soul, revealing much to him -and causing him many spiritual doubts and joys. - -CHAPTER X - -Pierre went on with his diary, and this is what he wrote in it -during that time: - -24th November - -Got up at eight, read the Scriptures, then went to my duties. [By -Joseph Alexeevich's advice Pierre had entered the service of the state -and served on one of the committees.] Returned home for dinner and -dined alone- the countess had many visitors I do not like. I ate and -drank moderately and after dinner copied out some passages for the -Brothers. In the evening I went down to the countess and told a -funny story about B., and only remembered that I ought not to have -done so when everybody laughed loudly at it. - -I am going to bed with a happy and tranquil mind. Great God, help me -to walk in Thy paths, (1) to conquer anger by calmness and -deliberation, (2) to vanquish lust by self-restraint and repulsion, -(3) to withdraw from worldliness, but not avoid (a) the service of the -state, (b) family duties, (c) relations with my friends, and the -management of my affairs. - -27th November - -I got up late. On waking I lay long in bed yielding to sloth. O God, -help and strengthen me that I may walk in Thy ways! Read the -Scriptures, but without proper feeling. Brother Urusov came and we -talked about worldly vanities. He told me of the Emperor's new -projects. I began to criticize them, but remembered my rules and my -benefactor's words- that a true Freemason should be a zealous worker -for the state when his aid is required and a quiet onlooker when not -called on to assist. My tongue is my enemy. Brothers G. V. and O. -visited me and we had a preliminary talk about the reception of a -new Brother. They laid on me the duty of Rhetor. I feel myself weak -and unworthy. Then our talk turned to the interpretation of the -seven pillars and steps of the Temple, the seven sciences, the seven -virtues, the seven vices, and the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. -Brother O. was very eloquent. In the evening the admission took place. -The new decoration of the Premises contributed much to the -magnificence of the spectacle. It was Boris Drubetskoy who was -admitted. I nominated him and was the Rhetor. A strange feeling -agitated me all the time I was alone with him in the dark chamber. I -caught myself harboring a feeling of hatred toward him which I -vainly tried to overcome. That is why I should really like to save him -from evil and lead him into the path of truth, but evil thoughts of -him did not leave me. It seemed to me that his object in entering -the Brotherhood was merely to be intimate and in favor with members of -our lodge. Apart from the fact that he had asked me several times -whether N. and S. were members of our lodge (a question to which I -could not reply) and that according to my observation he is -incapable of feeling respect for our holy order and is too preoccupied -and satisfied with the outer man to desire spiritual improvement, I -had no cause to doubt him, but he seemed to me insincere, and all -the time I stood alone with him in the dark temple it seemed to me -that he was smiling contemptuously at my words, and I wished really to -stab his bare breast with the sword I held to it. I could not be -eloquent, nor could I frankly mention my doubts to the Brothers and to -the Grand Master. Great Architect of Nature, help me to find the -true path out of the labyrinth of lies! - -After this, three pages were left blank in the diary, and then -the following was written: - -I have had a long and instructive talk alone with Brother V., who -advised me to hold fast by brother A. Though I am unworthy, much was -revealed to me. Adonai is the name of the creator of the world. Elohim -is the name of the ruler of all. The third name is the name -unutterable which means the All. Talks with Brother V. strengthen, -refresh, and support me in the path of virtue. In his presence doubt -has no place. The distinction between the poor teachings of mundane -science and our sacred all-embracing teaching is clear to me. Human -sciences dissect everything to comprehend it, and kill everything to -examine it. In the holy science of our order all is one, all is -known in its entirety and life. The Trinity- the three elements of -matter- are sulphur, mercury, and salt. Sulphur is of an oily and -fiery nature; in combination with salt by its fiery nature it -arouses a desire in the latter by means of which it attracts -mercury, seizes it, holds it, and in combination produces other -bodies. Mercury is a fluid, volatile, spiritual essence. Christ, the -Holy Spirit, Him!... - -3rd December - -Awoke late, read the Scriptures but was apathetic. Afterwards went -and paced up and down the large hall. I wished to meditate, but -instead my imagination pictured an occurrence of four years ago, -when Dolokhov, meeting me in Moscow after our duel, said he hoped I -was enjoying perfect peace of mind in spite of my wife's absence. At -the time I gave him no answer. Now I recalled every detail of that -meeting and in my mind gave him the most malevolent and bitter -replies. I recollected myself and drove away that thought only when -I found myself glowing with anger, but I did not sufficiently -repent. Afterwards Boris Drubetskoy came and began relating various -adventures. His coming vexed me from the first, and I said something -disagreeable to him. He replied. I flared up and said much that was -unpleasant and even rude to him. He became silent, and I recollected -myself only when it was too late. My God, I cannot get on with him -at all. The cause of this is my egotism. I set myself above him and so -become much worse than he, for he is lenient to my rudeness while I on -the contrary nourish contempt for him. O God, grant that in his -presence I may rather see my own vileness, and behave so that he too -may benefit. After dinner I fell asleep and as I was drowsing off I -clearly heard a voice saying in my left ear, "Thy day!" - -I dreamed that I was walking in the dark and was suddenly surrounded -by dogs, but I went on undismayed. Suddenly a smallish dog seized my -left thigh with its teeth and would not let go. I began to throttle it -with my hands. Scarcely had I torn it off before another, a bigger -one, began biting me. I lifted it up, but the higher I lifted it the -bigger and heavier it grew. And suddenly Brother A. came and, taking -my arm, led me to a building to enter which we had to pass along a -narrow plank. I stepped on it, but it bent and gave way and I began to -clamber up a fence which I could scarcely reach with my hands. After -much effort I dragged myself up, so that my leg hung down on one -side and my body on the other. I looked round and saw Brother A. -standing on the fence and pointing me to a broad avenue and garden, -and in the garden was a large and beautiful building. I woke up. O -Lord, great Architect of Nature, help me to tear from myself these -dogs- my passions especially the last, which unites in itself the -strength of all the former ones, and aid me to enter that temple of -virtue to a vision of which I attained in my dream. - -7th December - -I dreamed that Joseph Alexeevich was sitting in my house, and that I -was very glad and wished to entertain him. It seemed as if I chattered -incessantly with other people and suddenly remembered that this -could not please him, and I wished to come close to him and embrace -him. But as soon as I drew near I saw that his face had changed and -grown young, and he was quietly telling me something about the -teaching of our order, but so softly that I could not hear it. Then it -seemed that we all left the room and something strange happened. We -were sitting or lying on the floor. He was telling me something, and I -wished to show him my sensibility, and not listening to what he was -saying I began picturing to myself the condition of my inner man and -the grace of God sanctifying me. And tears came into my eyes, and I -was glad he noticed this. But be looked at me with vexation and jumped -up, breaking off his remarks. I felt abashed and asked whether what he -had been saying did not concern me; but he did not reply, gave me a -kind look, and then we suddenly found ourselves in my bedroom where -there is a double bed. He lay down on the edge of it and I burned with -longing to caress him and lie down too. And he said, "Tell me -frankly what is your chief temptation? Do you know it? I think you -know it already." Abashed by this question, I replied that sloth was -my chief temptation. He shook his head incredulously; and even more -abashed, I said that though I was living with my wife as he advised, I -was not living with her as her husband. To this he replied that one -should not deprive a wife of one's embraces and gave me to -understand that that was my duty. But I replied that I should be -ashamed to do it, and suddenly everything vanished. And I awoke and -found in my mind the text from the Gospel: "The life was the light -of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness -comprehended it not." Joseph Alexeevich's face had looked young and -bright. That day I received a letter from my benefactor in which he -wrote about "conjugal duties." - -9th December - -I had a dream from which I awoke with a throbbing heart. I saw -that I was in Moscow in my house, in the big sitting room, and -Joseph Alexeevich came in from the drawing room. I seemed to know at -once that the process of regeneration had already taken place in -him, and I rushed to meet him. I embraced him and kissed his hands, -and he said, "Hast thou noticed that my face is different?" I looked -at him, still holding him in my arms, and saw that his face was young, -but that he had no hair on his head and his features were quite -changed. And I said, "I should have known you had I met you by -chance," and I thought to myself, "Am I telling the truth?" And -suddenly I saw him lying like a dead body; then he gradually recovered -and went with me into my study carrying a large book of sheets of -drawing paper; I said, "I drew that," and he answered by bowing his -head. I opened the book, and on all the pages there were excellent -drawings. And in my dream I knew that these drawings represented the -love adventures of the soul with its beloved. And on its pages I saw a -beautiful representation of a maiden in transparent garments and -with a transparent body, flying up to the clouds. And I seemed to know -that this maiden was nothing else than a representation of the Song of -Songs. And looking at those drawings I dreamed I felt that I was doing -wrong, but could not tear myself away from them. Lord, help me! My -God, if Thy forsaking me is Thy doing, Thy will be done; but if I am -myself the cause, teach me what I should do! I shall perish of my -debauchery if Thou utterly desertest me! - -CHAPTER XI - -The Rostovs' monetary affairs had not improved during the two -years they had spent in the country. - -Though Nicholas Rostov had kept firmly to his resolution and was -still serving modestly in an obscure regiment, spending -comparatively little, the way of life at Otradnoe- Mitenka's -management of affairs, in particular- was such that the debts -inevitably increased every year. The only resource obviously -presenting itself to the old count was to apply for an official -post, so he had come to Petersburg to look for one and also, as he -said, to let the lassies enjoy themselves for the last time. - -Soon after their arrival in Petersburg Berg proposed to Vera and was -accepted. - -Though in Moscow the Rostovs belonged to the best society without -themselves giving it a thought, yet in Petersburg their circle of -acquaintances was a mixed and indefinite one. In Petersburg they -were provincials, and the very people they had entertained in Moscow -without inquiring to what set they belonged, here looked down on them. - -The Rostovs lived in the same hospitable way in Petersburg as in -Moscow, and the most diverse people met at their suppers. Country -neighbors from Otradnoe, impoverished old squires and their daughters, -Peronskaya a maid of honor, Pierre Bezukhov, and the son of their -district postmaster who had obtained a post in Petersburg. Among the -men who very soon became frequent visitors at the Rostovs' house in -Petersburg were Boris, Pierre whom the count had met in the street and -dragged home with him, and Berg who spent whole days at the Rostovs' -and paid the eldest daughter, Countess Vera, the attentions a young -man pays when he intends to propose. - -Not in vain had Berg shown everybody his right hand wounded at -Austerlitz and held a perfectly unnecessary sword in his left. He -narrated that episode so persistently and with so important an air -that everyone believed in the merit and usefulness of his deed, and he -had obtained two decorations for Austerlitz. - -In the Finnish war he also managed to distinguish himself. He had -picked up the scrap of a grenade that had killed an aide-de-camp -standing near the commander in chief and had taken it to his -commander. Just as he had done after Austerlitz, he related this -occurrence at such length and so insistently that everyone again -believed it had been necessary to do this, and he received two -decorations for the Finnish war also. In 1809 he was a captain in -the Guards, wore medals, and held some special lucrative posts in -Petersburg. - -Though some skeptics smiled when told of Berg's merits, it could not -be denied that he was a painstaking and brave officer, on excellent -terms with his superiors, and a moral young man with a brilliant -career before him and an assured position in society. - -Four years before, meeting a German comrade in the stalls of a -Moscow theater, Berg had pointed out Vera Rostova to him and had -said in German, "das soll mein Weib werden,"~{ "That girl shall be my wife." }~ and from that moment had -made up his mind to marry her. Now in Petersburg, having considered -the Rostovs' position and his own, he decided that the time had come -to propose. - -Berg's proposal was at first received with a perplexity that was not -flattering to him. At first it seemed strange that the son of an -obscure Livonian gentleman should propose marriage to a Countess -Rostova; but Berg's chief characteristic was such a naive and good -natured egotism that the Rostovs involuntarily came to think it -would be a good thing, since he himself was so firmly convinced that -it was good, indeed excellent. Moreover, the Rostovs' affairs were -seriously embarrassed, as the suitor could not but know; and above -all, Vera was twenty-four, had been taken out everywhere, and though -she was certainly good-looking and sensible, no one up to now had -proposed to her. So they gave their consent. - -"You see," said Berg to his comrade, whom he called "friend" only -because he knew that everyone has friends, "you see, I have considered -it all, and should not marry if I had not thought it all out or if -it were in any way unsuitable. But on the contrary, my papa and -mamma are now provided for- I have arranged that rent for them in -the Baltic Provinces- and I can live in Petersburg on my pay, and with -her fortune and my good management we can get along nicely. I am not -marrying for money- I consider that dishonorable- but a wife should -bring her share and a husband his. I have my position in the -service, she has connections and some means. In our times that is -worth something, isn't it? But above all, she is a handsome, estimable -girl, and she loves me..." - -Berg blushed and smiled. - -"And I love her, because her character is sensible and very good. -Now the other sister, though they are the same family, is quite -different- an unpleasant character and has not the same -intelligence. She is so... you know?... Unpleasant... But my -fiancee!... Well, you will be coming," he was going to say, "to dine," -but changed his mind and said "to take tea with us," and quickly -doubling up his tongue he blew a small round ring of tobacco smoke, -perfectly embodying his dream of happiness. - -After the first feeling of perplexity aroused in the parents by -Berg's proposal, the holiday tone of joyousness usual at such times -took possession of the family, but the rejoicing was external and -insincere. In the family's feeling toward this wedding a certain -awkwardness and constraint was evident, as if they were ashamed of not -having loved Vera sufficiently and of being so ready to get her off -their hands. The old count felt this most. He would probably have been -unable to state the cause of his embarrassment, but it resulted from -the state of his affairs. He did not know at all how much he had, what -his debts amounted to, or what dowry he could give Vera. When his -daughters were born he had assigned to each of them, for her dowry, an -estate with three hundred serfs; but one of these estates had -already been sold, and the other was mortgaged and the interest so -much in arrears that it would have to be sold, so that it was -impossible to give it to Vera. Nor had he any money. - -Berg had already been engaged a month, and only a week remained -before the wedding, but the count had not yet decided in his own -mind the question of the dowry, nor spoken to his wife about it. At -one time the count thought of giving her the Ryazan estate or of -selling a forest, at another time of borrowing money on a note of -hand. A few days before the wedding Berg entered the count's study -early one morning and, with a pleasant smile, respectfully asked his -future father-in-law to let him know what Vera's dowry would be. The -count was so disconcerted by this long-foreseen inquiry that without -consideration he gave the first reply that came into his head. "I like -your being businesslike about it.... I like it. You shall be -satisfied...." - -And patting Berg on the shoulder he got up, wishing to end the -conversation. But Berg, smiling pleasantly, explained that if he did -not know for certain how much Vera would have and did not receive at -least part of the dowry in advance, he would have to break matters -off. - -"Because, consider, Count- if I allowed myself to marry now -without having definite means to maintain my wife, I should be -acting badly...." - -The conversation ended by the count, who wished to be generous and -to avoid further importunity, saying that he would give a note of hand -for eighty thousand rubles. Berg smiled meekly, kissed the count on -the shoulder, and said that he was very grateful, but that it was -impossible for him to arrange his new life without receiving thirty -thousand in ready money. "Or at least twenty thousand, Count," he -added, "and then a note of hand for only sixty thousand." - -"Yes, yes, all right!" said the count hurriedly. "Only excuse me, my -dear fellow, I'll give you twenty thousand and a note of hand for -eighty thousand as well. Yes, yes! Kiss me." - -CHAPTER XII - -Natasha was sixteen and it was the year 1809, the very year to which -she had counted on her fingers with Boris after they had kissed four -years ago. Since then she had not seen him. Before Sonya and her -mother, if Boris happened to be mentioned, she spoke quite freely of -that episode as of some childish, long-forgotten matter that was not -worth mentioning. But in the secret depths of her soul the question -whether her engagement to Boris was a jest or an important, binding -promise tormented her. - -Since Boris left Moscow in 1805 to join the army he had had not seen -the Rostovs. He had been in Moscow several times, and had passed -near Otradnoe, but had never been to see them. - -Sometimes it occurred to Natasha that he not wish to see her, and -this conjecture was confirmed by the sad tone in which her elders -spoke of him. - -"Nowadays old friends are not remembered," the countess would say -when Boris was mentioned. - -Anna Mikhaylovna also had of late visited them less frequently, -seemed to hold herself with particular dignity, and always spoke -rapturously and gratefully of the merits of her son and the -brilliant career on which he had entered. When the Rostovs came to -Petersburg Boris called on them. - -He drove to their house in some agitation. The memory of Natasha was -his most poetic recollection. But he went with the firm intention of -letting her and her parents feel that the childish relations between -himself and Natasha could not be binding either on her or on him. He -had a brilliant position in society thanks to his intimacy with -Countess Bezukhova, a brilliant position in the service thanks to -the patronage of an important personage whose complete confidence he -enjoyed, and he was beginning to make plans for marrying one of the -richest heiresses in Petersburg, plans which might very easily be -realized. When he entered the Rostovs' drawing room Natasha was in her -own room. When she heard of his arrival she almost ran into the -drawing room, flushed and beaming with a more than cordial smile. - -Boris remembered Natasha in a short dress, with dark eyes shining -from under her curls and boisterous, childish laughter, as he had -known her four years before; and so he was taken aback when quite a -different Natasha entered, and his face expressed rapturous -astonishment. This expression on his face pleased Natasha. - -"Well, do you recognize your little madcap playmate?" asked the -countess. - -Boris kissed Natasha's hand and said that he was astonished at the -change in her. - -"How handsome you have grown!" - -"I should think so!" replied Natasha's laughing eyes. - -"And is Papa older?" she asked. - -Natasha sat down and, without joining in Boris' conversation with -the countess, silently and minutely studied her childhood's suitor. He -felt the weight of that resolute and affectionate scrutiny and glanced -at her occasionally. - -Boris' uniform, spurs, tie, and the way his hair was brushed were -all comme il faut and in the latest fashion. This Natasha noticed at -once. He sat rather sideways in the armchair next to the countess, -arranging with his right hand the cleanest of gloves that fitted his -left hand like a skin, and he spoke with a particularly refined -compression of his lips about the amusements of the highest Petersburg -society, recalling with mild irony old times in Moscow and Moscow -acquaintances. It was not accidentally, Natasha felt, that he alluded, -when speaking of the highest aristocracy, to an ambassador's ball he -had attended, and to invitations he had received from N.N. and S.S. - -All this time Natasha sat silent, glancing up at him from under -her brows. This gaze disturbed and confused Boris more and more. He -looked round more frequently toward her, and broke off in what he -was saying. He did not stay more than ten minutes, then rose and -took his leave. The same inquisitive, challenging, and rather -mocking eyes still looked at him. After his first visit Boris said -to himself that Natasha attracted him just as much as ever, but that -he must not yield to that feeling, because to marry her, a girl almost -without fortune, would mean ruin to his career, while to renew their -former relations without intending to marry her would be dishonorable. -Boris made up his mind to avoid meeting Natasha, but despite that -resolution he called again a few days later and began calling often -and spending whole days at the Rostovs'. It seemed to him that he -ought to have an explanation with Natasha and tell her that the old -times must be forgotten, that in spite of everything... she could -not be his wife, that he had no means, and they would never let her -marry him. But he failed to do so and felt awkward about entering on -such an explanation. From day to day he became more and more -entangled. It seemed to her mother and Sonya that Natasha was in -love with Boris as of old. She sang him his favorite songs, showed him -her album, making him write in it, did not allow him to allude to -the past, letting it be understood how was the present; and every -day he went away in a fog, without having said what he meant to, and -not knowing what he was doing or why he came, or how it would all end. -He left off visiting Helene and received reproachful notes from her -every day, and yet he continued to spend whole days with the Rostovs. - -CHAPTER XIII - -One night when the old countess, in nightcap and dressing jacket, -without her false curls, and with her poor little knob of hair showing -under her white cotton cap, knelt sighing and groaning on a rug and -bowing to the ground in prayer, her door creaked and Natasha, also -in a dressing jacket with slippers on her bare feet and her hair in -curlpapers, ran in. The countess- her prayerful mood dispelled- looked -round and frowned. She was finishing her last prayer: "Can it be -that this couch will be my grave?" Natasha, flushed and eager, -seeing her mother in prayer, suddenly checked her rush, half sat down, -and unconsciously put out her tongue as if chiding herself. Seeing -that her mother was still praying she ran on tiptoe to the bed and, -rapidly slipping one little foot against the other, pushed off her -slippers and jumped onto the bed the countess had feared might -become her grave. This couch was high, with a feather bed and five -pillows each smaller than the one below. Natasha jumped on it, sank -into the feather bed, rolled over to the wall, and began snuggling -up the bedclothes as she settled down, raising her knees to her -chin, kicking out and laughing almost inaudibly, now covering -herself up head and all, and now peeping at her mother. The countess -finished her prayers and came to the bed with a stern face, but -seeing, that Natasha's head was covered, she smiled in her kind, -weak way. - -"Now then, now then!" said she. - -"Mamma, can we have a talk? Yes?" said Natasha. "Now, just one on -your throat and another... that'll do!" And seizing her mother round -the neck, she kissed her on the throat. In her behavior to her -mother Natasha seemed rough, but she was so sensitive and tactful that -however she clasped her mother she always managed to do it without -hurting her or making her feel uncomfortable or displeased. - -"Well, what is it tonight?" said the mother, having arranged her -pillows and waited until Natasha, after turning over a couple of -times, had settled down beside her under the quilt, spread out her -arms, and assumed a serious expression. - -These visits of Natasha's at night before the count returned from -his club were one of the greatest pleasures of both mother, and -daughter. - -"What is it tonight?- But I have to tell you..." - -Natasha put her hand on her mother's mouth. - -"About Boris... I know," she said seriously; "that's what I have -come about. Don't say it- I know. No, do tell me!" and she removed her -hand. "Tell me, Mamma! He's nice?" - -"Natasha, you are sixteen. At your age I was married. You say -Boris is nice. He is very nice, and I love him like a son. But what -then?... What are you thinking about? You have quite turned his -head, I can see that...." - -As she said this the countess looked round at her daughter. -Natasha was lying looking steadily straight before her at one of the -mahogany sphinxes carved on the corners of the bedstead, so that the -countess only saw her daughter's face in profile. That face struck her -by its peculiarly serious and concentrated expression. - -Natasha was listening and considering. - -"Well, what then?" said she. - -"You have quite turned his head, and why? What do you want of him? -You know you can't marry him." - -"Why not?" said Natasha, without changing her position. - -"Because he is young, because he is poor, because he is a -relation... and because you yourself don't love him." - -"How do you know?" - -"I know. It is not right, darling!" - -"But if I want to..." said Natasha. - -"Leave off talking nonsense," said the countess. - -"But if I want to..." - -"Natasha, I am in earnest..." - -Natasha did not let her finish. She drew the countess' large hand to -her, kissed it on the back and then on the palm, then again turned -it over and began kissing first one knuckle, then the space between -the knuckles, then the next knuckle, whispering, "January, February, -March, April, May. Speak, Mamma, why don't you say anything? Speak!" -said she, turning to her mother, who was tenderly gazing at her -daughter and in that contemplation seemed to have forgotten all she -had wished to say. - -"It won't do, my love! Not everyone will understand this -friendship dating from your childish days, and to see him so -intimate with you may injure you in the eyes of other young men who -visit us, and above all it torments him for nothing. He may already -have found a suitable and wealthy match, and now he's half crazy." - -"Crazy?" repeated Natasha. - -"I'll tell you some things about myself. I had a cousin..." - -"I know! Cyril Matveich... but he is old." - -"He was not always old. But this is what I'll do, Natasha, I'll have -a talk with Boris. He need not come so often...." - -"Why not, if he likes to?" - -"Because I know it will end in nothing...." - -"How can you know? No, Mamma, don't speak to him! What nonsense!" -said Natasha in the tone of one being deprived of her property. "Well, -I won't marry, but let him come if he enjoys it and I enjoy it." -Natasha smiled and looked at her mother. "Not to marry, but just -so," she added. - -"How so, my pet?" - -"Just so. There's no need for me to marry him. But... just so." - -"Just so, just so," repeated the countess, and shaking all over, she -went off into a good humored, unexpected, elderly laugh. - -"Don't laugh, stop!" cried Natasha. "You're shaking the whole bed! -You're awfully like me, just such another giggler.... Wait..." and she -seized the countess' hands and kissed a knuckle of the little -finger, saying, "June," and continued, kissing, "July, August," on the -other hand. "But, Mamma, is he very much in love? What do you think? -Was anybody ever so much in love with you? And he's very nice, very, -very nice. Only not quite my taste- he is so narrow, like the -dining-room clock.... Don't you understand? Narrow, you know- gray, -light gray..." - -"What rubbish you're talking!" said the countess. - -Natasha continued: "Don't you really understand? Nicholas would -understand.... Bezukhov, now, is blue, dark-blue and red, and he is -square." - -"You flirt with him too," said the countess, laughing. - -"No, he is a Freemason, I have found out. He is fine, dark-blue -and red.... How can I explain it to you?" - -"Little countess!" the count's voice called from behind the door. -"You're not asleep?" Natasha jumped up, snatched up her slippers, -and ran barefoot to her own room. - -It was a long time before she could sleep. She kept thinking that no -one could understand all that she understood and all there was in her. - -"Sonya?" she thought, glancing at that curled-up, sleeping little -kitten with her enormous plait of hair. "No, how could she? She's -virtuous. She fell in love with Nicholas and does not wish to know -anything more. Even Mamma does not understand. It is wonderful how -clever I am and how... charming she is," she went on, speaking of -herself in the third person, and imagining it was some very wise -man- the wisest and best of men- who was saying it of her. "There is -everything, everything in her," continued this man. "She is -unusually intelligent, charming... and then she is pretty, -uncommonly pretty, and agile- she swims and rides splendidly... and -her voice! One can really say it's a wonderful voice!" - -She hummed a scrap from her favorite opera by Cherubini, threw -herself on her bed, laughed at the pleasant thought that she would -immediately fall asleep, called Dunyasha the maid to put out the -candle, and before Dunyasha had left the room had already passed -into yet another happier world of dreams, where everything was as -light and beautiful as in reality, and even more so because it was -different. - -Next day the countess called Boris aside and had a talk with him, -after which he ceased coming to the Rostovs'. - -CHAPTER XIV - -On the thirty-first of December, New Year's Eve, 1809 - 10 an old -grandee of Catherine's day was giving a ball and midnight supper. -The diplomatic corps and the Emperor himself were to be present. - -The grandee's well-known mansion on the English Quay glittered -with innumerable lights. Police were stationed at the brightly lit -entrance which was carpeted with red baize, and not only gendarmes but -dozens of police officers and even the police master himself stood -at the porch. Carriages kept driving away and fresh ones arriving, -with red-liveried footmen and footmen in plumed hats. From the -carriages emerged men wearing uniforms, stars, and ribbons, while -ladies in satin and ermine cautiously descended the carriage steps -which were let down for them with a clatter, and then walked hurriedly -and noiselessly over the baize at the entrance. - -Almost every time a new carriage drove up a whisper ran through -the crowd and caps were doffed. - -"The Emperor?... No, a minister.... prince... ambassador. Don't -you see the plumes?..." was whispered among the crowd. - -One person, better dressed than the rest, seemed to know everyone -and mentioned by name the greatest dignitaries of the day. - -A third of the visitors had already arrived, but the Rostovs, who -were to be present, were still hurrying to get dressed. - -There had been many discussions and preparations for this ball in -the Rostov family, many fears that the invitation would not arrive, -that the dresses would not be ready, or that something would not be -arranged as it should be. - -Marya Ignatevna Peronskaya, a thin and shallow maid of honor at -the court of the Dowager Empress, who was a friend and relation of the -countess and piloted the provincial Rostovs in Petersburg high -society, was to accompany them to the ball. - -They were to call for her at her house in the Taurida Gardens at ten -o'clock, but it was already five minutes to ten, and the girls were -not yet dressed. - -Natasha was going to her first grand ball. She had got up at eight -that morning and had been in a fever of excitement and activity all -day. All her powers since morning had been concentrated on ensuring -that they all- she herself, Mamma, and Sonya- should be as well -dressed as possible. Sonya and her mother put themselves entirely in -her hands. The countess was to wear a claret-colored velvet dress, and -the two girls white gauze over pink silk slips, with roses on their -bodices and their hair dressed a la grecque. - -Everything essential had already been done; feet, hands, necks, -and ears washed, perfumed, and powdered, as befits a ball; the -openwork silk stockings and white satin shoes with ribbons were -already on; the hairdressing was almost done. Sonya was finishing -dressing and so was the countess, but Natasha, who had bustled about -helping them all, was behindhand. She was still sitting before a -looking-glass with a dressing jacket thrown over her slender -shoulders. Sonya stood ready dressed in the middle of the room and, -pressing the head of a pin till it hurt her dainty finger, was -fixing on a last ribbon that squeaked as the pin went through it. - -"That's not the way, that's not the way, Sonya!" cried Natasha -turning her head and clutching with both hands at her hair which the -maid who was dressing it had not time to release. "That bow is not -right. Come here!" - -Sonya sat down and Natasha pinned the ribbon on differently. - -"Allow me, Miss! I can't do it like that," said the maid who was -holding Natasha's hair. - -"Oh, dear! Well then, wait. That's right, Sonya." - -"Aren't you ready? It is nearly ten," came the countess' voice. - -"Directly! Directly! And you, Mamma?" - -"I have only my cap to pin on." - -"Don't do it without me!" called Natasha. "You won't do it right." - -"But it's already ten." - -They had decided to be at the ball by half past ten, and Natasha had -still to get dressed and they had to call at the Taurida Gardens. - -When her hair was done, Natasha, in her short petticoat from under -which her dancing shoes showed, and in her mother's dressing jacket, -ran up to Sonya, scrutinized her, and then ran to her mother. -Turning her mother's head this way and that, she fastened on the cap -and, hurriedly kissing her gray hair, ran back to the maids who were -turning up the hem of her skirt. - -The cause of the delay was Natasha's skirt, which was too long. -Two maids were turning up the hem and hurriedly biting off the ends of -thread. A third with pins in her mouth was running about between the -countess and Sonya, and a fourth held the whole of the gossamer -garment up high on one uplifted hand. - -"Mavra, quicker, darling!" - -"Give me my thimble, Miss, from there..." - -"Whenever will you be ready?" asked the count coming to the door. -"Here is here is some scent. Peronskaya must be tired of waiting." - -"It's ready, Miss," said the maid, holding up the shortened gauze -dress with two fingers, and blowing and shaking something off it, as -if by this to express a consciousness of the airiness and purity of -what she held. - -Natasha began putting on the dress. - -"In a minute! In a minute! Don't come in, Papa!" she cried to her -father as he opened the door- speaking from under the filmy skirt -which still covered her whole face. - -Sonya slammed the door to. A minute later they let the count in. -He was wearing a blue swallow-tail coat, shoes and stockings, and -was perfumed and his hair pomaded. - -"Oh, Papa! how nice you look! Charming!" cried Natasha, as she stood -in the middle of the room smoothing out the folds of the gauze. - -"If you please, Miss! allow me," said the maid, who on her knees was -pulling the skirt straight and shifting the pins from one side of -her mouth to the other with her tongue. - -"Say what you like," exclaimed Sonya, in a despairing voice as she -looked at Natasha, "say what you like, it's still too long." - -Natasha stepped back to look at herself in the pier glass. The dress -was too long. - -"Really, madam, it is not at all too long," said Mavra, crawling -on her knees after her young lady. - -"Well, if it's too long we'll take it up... we'll tack it up in -one minute," said the resolute Dunyasha taking a needle that was stuck -on the front of her little shawl and, still kneeling on the floor, set -to work once more. - -At that moment, with soft steps, the countess came in shyly, in -her cap and velvet gown. - -"Oo-oo, my beauty!" exclaimed the count, "she looks better than -any of you!" - -He would have embraced her but, blushing, she stepped aside -fearing to be rumpled. - -"Mamma, your cap, more to this side," said Natasha. "I'll arrange -it," and she rushed forward so that the maids who were tacking up -her skirt could not move fast enough and a piece of gauze was torn -off. - -"Oh goodness! What has happened? Really it was not my fault!" - -"Never mind, I'll run it up, it won't show," said Dunyasha. - -"What a beauty- a very queen!" said the nurse as she came to the -door. "And Sonya! They are lovely!" - -At a quarter past ten they at last got into their carriages and -started. But they had still to call at the Taurida Gardens. - -Peronskaya was quite ready. In spite of her age and plainness she -had gone through the same process as the Rostovs, but with less -flurry- for to her it was a matter of routine. Her ugly old body was -washed, perfumed, and powdered in just the same way. She had washed -behind her ears just as carefully, and when she entered her drawing -room in her yellow dress, wearing her badge as maid of honor, her -old lady's maid was as full of rapturous admiration as the Rostovs' -servants had been. - -She praised the Rostovs' toilets. They praised her taste and toilet, -and at eleven o'clock, careful of their coiffures and dresses, they -settled themselves in their carriages and drove off. - -CHAPTER XV - -Natasha had not had a moment free since early morning and had not -once had time to think of what lay before her. - -In the damp chill air and crowded closeness of the swaying carriage, -she for the first time vividly imagined what was in store for her -there at the ball, in those brightly lighted rooms- with music, -flowers, dances, the Emperor, and all the brilliant young people of -Petersburg. The prospect was so splendid that she hardly believed it -would come true, so out of keeping was it with the chill darkness -and closeness of the carriage. She understood all that awaited her -only when, after stepping over the red baize at the entrance, she -entered the hall, took off her fur cloak, and, beside Sonya and in -front of her mother, mounted the brightly illuminated stairs between -the flowers. Only then did she remember how she must behave at a ball, -and tried to assume the majestic air she considered indispensable -for a girl on such an occasion. But, fortunately for her, she felt her -eyes growing misty, she saw nothing clearly, her pulse beat a -hundred to the minute, and the blood throbbed at her heart. She -could not assume that pose, which would have made her ridiculous, -and she moved on almost fainting from excitement and trying with all -her might to conceal it. And this was the very attitude that became -her best. Before and behind them other visitors were entering, also -talking in low tones and wearing ball dresses. The mirrors on the -landing reflected ladies in white, pale-blue, and pink dresses, with -diamonds and pearls on their bare necks and arms. - -Natasha looked in the mirrors and could not distinguish her -reflection from the others. All was blended into one brilliant -procession. On entering the ballroom the regular hum of voices, -footsteps, and greetings deafened Natasha, and the light and glitter -dazzled her still more. The host and hostess, who had already been -standing at the door for half an hour repeating the same words to -the various arrivals, "Charme de vous voir,"~{ "Delighted to see you." }~ greeted the Rostovs -and Peronskaya in the same manner. - -The two girls in their white dresses, each with a rose in her -black hair, both curtsied in the same way, but the hostess' eye -involuntarily rested longer on the slim Natasha. She looked at her and -gave her alone a special smile in addition to her usual smile as -hostess. Looking at her she may have recalled the golden, -irrecoverable days of her own girlhood and her own first ball. The -host also followed Natasha with his eyes and asked the count which was -his daughter. - -"Charming!" said he, kissing the tips of his fingers. - -In the ballroom guests stood crowding at the entrance doors awaiting -the Emperor. The countess took up a position in one of the front -rows of that crowd. Natasha heard and felt that several people were -asking about her and looking at her. She realized that those -noticing her liked her, and this observation helped to calm her. - -"There are some like ourselves and some worse," she thought. - -Peronskaya was pointing out to the countess the most important -people at the ball. - -"That is the Dutch ambassador, do you see? That gray-haired man," -she said, indicating an old man with a profusion of silver-gray -curly hair, who was surrounded by ladies laughing at something he -said. - -"Ah, here she is, the Queen of Petersburg, Countess Bezukhova," said -Peronskaya, indicating Helene who had just entered. "How lovely! She -is quite equal to Marya Antonovna. See how the men, young and old, pay -court to her. Beautiful and clever... they say Prince- is quite mad -about her. But see, those two, though not good-looking, are even -more run after." - -She pointed to a lady who was crossing the room followed by a very -plain daughter. - -"She is a splendid match, a millionairess," said Peronskaya. "And -look, here come her suitors." - -"That is Bezukhova's brother, Anatole Kuragin," she said, indicating -a handsome officer of the Horse Guards who passed by them with head -erect, looking at something over the heads of the ladies. "He's -handsome, isn't he? I hear they will marry him to that rich girl. -But your cousin, Drubetskoy, is also very attentive to her. They say -she has millions. Oh yes, that's the French ambassador himself!" she -replied to the countess' inquiry about Caulaincourt. "Looks as if he -were a king! All the same, the French are charming, very charming. -No one more charming in society. Ah, here she is! Yes, she is still -the most beautiful of them all, our Marya Antonovna! And how simply -she is dressed! Lovely! And that stout one in spectacles is the -universal Freemason," she went on, indicating Pierre. "Put him -beside his wife and he looks a regular buffoon!" - -Pierre, swaying his stout body, advanced, making way through the -crowd and nodding to right and left as casually and good-naturedly -as if he were passing through a crowd at a fair. He pushed through, -evidently looking for someone. - -Natasha looked joyfully at the familiar face of Pierre, "the -buffoon," as Peronskaya had called him, and knew he was looking for -them, and for her in particular. He had promised to be at the ball and -introduce partners to her. - -But before he reached them Pierre stopped beside a very handsome, -dark man of middle height, and in a white uniform, who stood by a -window talking to a tall man wearing stars and a ribbon. Natasha at -once recognized the shorter and younger man in the white uniform: it -was Bolkonski, who seemed to her to have grown much younger, -happier, and better-looking. - -"There's someone else we know- Bolkonski, do you see, Mamma?" said -Natasha, pointing out Prince Andrew. "You remember, he stayed a -night with us at Otradnoe." - -"Oh, you know him?" said Peronskaya. "I can't bear him. Il fait a -present la pluie et le beau temps."~{ "He is all the rage just now. }~ He's too proud for anything. -Takes after his father. And he's hand in glove with Speranski, writing -some project or other. Just look how he treats the ladies! There's one -talking to him and he has turned away," she said, pointing at him. -"I'd give it to him if he treated me as he does those ladies." - -CHAPTER XVI - -Suddenly everybody stirred, began talking, and pressed forward and -then back, and between the two rows, which separated, the Emperor -entered to the sounds of music that had immediately struck up. -Behind him walked his host and hostess. He walked in rapidly, bowing -to right and left as if anxious to get the first moments of the -reception over. The band played the polonaise in vogue at that time on -account of the words that had been set to it, beginning: "Alexander, -Elisaveta, all our hearts you ravish quite..." The Emperor passed on -to the drawing room, the crowd made a rush for the doors, and -several persons with excited faces hurried there and back again. -Then the crowd hastily retired from the drawing-room door, at which -the Emperor reappeared talking to the hostess. A young man, looking -distraught, pounced down on the ladies, asking them to move aside. -Some ladies, with faces betraying complete forgetfulness of all the -rules of decorum, pushed forward to the detriment of their toilets. -The men began to choose partners and take their places for the -polonaise. - -Everyone moved back, and the Emperor came smiling out of the drawing -room leading his hostess by the hand but not keeping time to the -music. The host followed with Marya Antonovna Naryshkina; then came -ambassadors, ministers, and various generals, whom Peronskaya -diligently named. More than half the ladies already had partners and -were taking up, or preparing to take up, their positions for the -polonaise. Natasha felt that she would be left with her mother and -Sonya among a minority of women who crowded near the wall, not -having been invited to dance. She stood with her slender arms -hanging down, her scarcely defined bosom rising and falling regularly, -and with bated breath and glittering, frightened eyes gazed straight -before her, evidently prepared for the height of joy or misery. She -was not concerned about the Emperor or any of those great people -whom Peronskaya was pointing out- she had but one thought: "Is it -possible no one will ask me, that I shall not be among the first to -dance? Is it possible that not one of all these men will notice me? -They do not even seem to see me, or if they do they look as if they -were saying, 'Ah, she's not the one I'm after, so it's not worth -looking at her!' No, it's impossible," she thought. "They must know -how I long to dance, how splendidly I dance, and how they would -enjoy dancing with me." - -The strains of the polonaise, which had continued for a considerable -time, had begun to sound like a sad reminiscence to Natasha's ears. -She wanted to cry. Peronskaya had left them. The count was at the -other end of the room. She and the countess and Sonya were standing by -themselves as in the depths of a forest amid that crowd of -strangers, with no one interested in them and not wanted by anyone. -Prince Andrew with a lady passed by, evidently not recognizing them. -The handsome Anatole was smilingly talking to a partner on his arm and -looked at Natasha as one looks at a wall. Boris passed them twice -and each time turned away. Berg and his wife, who were not dancing, -came up to them. - -This family gathering seemed humiliating to Natasha- as if there -were nowhere else for the family to talk but here at the ball. She did -not listen to or look at Vera, who was telling her something about her -own green dress. - -At last the Emperor stopped beside his last partner (he had danced -with three) and the music ceased. A worried aide-de-camp ran up to the -Rostovs requesting them to stand farther back, though as it was they -were already close to the wall, and from the gallery resounded the -distinct, precise, enticingly rhythmical strains of a waltz. The -Emperor looked smilingly down the room. A minute passed but no one had -yet begun dancing. An aide-de-camp, the Master of Ceremonies, went -up to Countess Bezukhova and asked her to dance. She smilingly -raised her hand and laid it on his shoulder without looking at him. -The aide-de-camp, an adept in his art, grasping his partner firmly -round her waist, with confident deliberation started smoothly, gliding -first round the edge of the circle, then at the corner of the room -he caught Helene's left hand and turned her, the only sound audible, -apart from the ever-quickening music, being the rhythmic click of -the spurs on his rapid, agile feet, while at every third beat his -partner's velvet dress spread out and seemed to flash as she whirled -round. Natasha gazed at them and was ready to cry because it was not -she who was dancing that first turn of the waltz. - -Prince Andrew, in the white uniform of a cavalry colonel, wearing -stockings and dancing shoes, stood looking animated and bright in -the front row of the circle not far from the Rostovs. Baron Firhoff -was talking to him about the first sitting of the Council of State -to be held next day. Prince Andrew, as one closely connected with -Speranski and participating in the work of the legislative commission, -could give reliable information about that sitting, concerning which -various rumors were current. But not listening to what Firhoff was -saying, he was gazing now at the sovereign and now at the men -intending to dance who had not yet gathered courage to enter the -circle. - -Prince Andrew was watching these men abashed by the Emperor's -presence, and the women who were breathlessly longing to be asked to -dance. - -Pierre came up to him and caught him by the arm. - -"You always dance. I have a protegee, the young Rostova, here. Ask -her," he said. - -"Where is she?" asked Bolkonski. "Excuse me!" he added, turning to -the baron, "we will finish this conversation elsewhere- at a ball -one must dance." He stepped forward in the direction Pierre indicated. -The despairing, dejected expression of Natasha's face caught his -eye. He recognized her, guessed her feelings, saw that it was her -debut, remembered her conversation at the window, and with an -expression of pleasure on his face approached Countess Rostova. - -"Allow me to introduce you to my daughter," said the countess, -with heightened color. - -"I have the pleasure of being already acquainted, if the countess -remembers me," said Prince Andrew with a low and courteous bow quite -belying Peronskaya's remarks about his rudeness, and approaching -Natasha he held out his arm to grasp her waist before he had completed -his invitation. He asked her to waltz. That tremulous expression on -Natasha's face, prepared either for despair or rapture, suddenly -brightened into a happy, grateful, childlike smile. - -"I have long been waiting for you," that frightened happy little -girl seemed to say by the smile that replaced the threatened tears, as -she raised her hand to Prince Andrew's shoulder. They were the -second couple to enter the circle. Prince Andrew was one of the best -dancers of his day and Natasha danced exquisitely. Her little feet -in their white satin dancing shoes did their work swiftly, lightly, -and independently of herself, while her face beamed with ecstatic -happiness. Her slender bare arms and neck were not beautiful- compared -to Helene's her shoulders looked thin and her bosom undeveloped. But -Helene seemed, as it were, hardened by a varnish left by the thousands -of looks that had scanned her person, while Natasha was like a girl -exposed for the first time, who would have felt very much ashamed -had she not been assured that this was absolutely necessary. - -Prince Andrew liked dancing, and wishing to escape as quickly as -possible from the political and clever talk which everyone addressed -to him, wishing also to break up the circle of restraint he -disliked, caused by the Emperor's presence, he danced, and had -chosen Natasha because Pierre pointed her out to him and because she -was the first pretty girl who caught his eye; but scarcely had he -embraced that slender supple figure and felt her stirring so close -to him and smiling so near him than the wine of her charm rose to -his head, and he felt himself revived and rejuvenated when after -leaving her he stood breathing deeply and watching the other dancers. - -CHAPTER XVII - -After Prince Andrew, Boris came up to ask Natasha for dance, and -then the aide-de-camp who had opened the ball, and several other young -men, so that, flushed and happy, and passing on her superfluous -partners to Sonya, she did not cease dancing all the evening. She -noticed and saw nothing of what occupied everyone else. Not only did -she fail to notice that the Emperor talked a long time with the French -ambassador, and how particularly gracious he was to a certain lady, or -that Prince So-and-so and So-and-so did and said this and that, and -that Helene had great success and was honored was by the special -attention of So-and-so, but she did not even see the Emperor, and only -noticed that he had gone because the ball became livelier after his -departure. For one of the merry cotillions before supper Prince Andrew -was again her partner. He reminded her of their first encounter in the -Otradnoe avenue, and how she had been unable to sleep that moonlight -night, and told her how he had involuntarily overheard her. Natasha -blushed at that recollection and tried to excuse herself, as if -there had been something to be ashamed of in what Prince Andrew had -overheard. - -Like all men who have grown up in society, Prince Andrew liked -meeting someone there not of the conventional society stamp. And -such was Natasha, with her surprise, her delight, her shyness, and -even her mistakes in speaking French. With her he behaved with special -care and tenderness, sitting beside her and talking of the simplest -and most unimportant matters; he admired her shy grace. In the -middle of the cotillion, having completed one of the figures, Natasha, -still out of breath, was returning to her seat when another dancer -chose her. She was tired and panting and evidently thought of -declining, but immediately put her hand gaily on the man's shoulder, -smiling at Prince Andrew. - -"I'd be glad to sit beside you and rest: I'm tired; but you see -how they keep asking me, and I'm glad of it, I'm happy and I love -everybody, and you and I understand it all," and much, much more was -said in her smile. When her partner left her Natasha ran across the -room to choose two ladies for the figure. - -"If she goes to her cousin first and then to another lady, she -will be my wife," said Prince Andrew to himself quite to his own -surprise, as he watched her. She did go first to her cousin. - -"What rubbish sometimes enters one's head!" thought Prince Andrew, -"but what is certain is that that girl is so charming, so original, -that she won't be dancing here a month before she will be -married.... Such as she are rare here," he thought, as Natasha, -readjusting a rose that was slipping on her bodice, settled herself -beside him. - -When the cotillion was over the old count in his blue coat came up -to the dancers. He invited Prince Andrew to come and see them, and -asked his daughter whether she was enjoying herself. Natasha did not -answer at once but only looked up with a smile that said -reproachfully: "How can you ask such a question?" - -"I have never enjoyed myself so much before!" she said, and Prince -Andrew noticed how her thin arms rose quickly as if to embrace her -father and instantly dropped again. Natasha was happier than she had -ever been in her life. She was at that height of bliss when one -becomes completely kind and good and does not believe in the -possibility of evil, unhappiness, or sorrow. - -At that ball Pierre for the first time felt humiliated by the -position his wife occupied in court circles. He was gloomy and -absent-minded. A deep furrow ran across his forehead, and standing -by a window he stared over his spectacles seeing no one. - -On her way to supper Natasha passed him. - -Pierre's gloomy, unhappy look struck her. She stopped in front of -him. She wished to help him, to bestow on him the superabundance of -her own happiness. - -"How delightful it is, Count!" said she. "Isn't it?" - -Pierre smiled absent-mindedly, evidently not grasping what she said. - -"Yes, I am very glad," he said. - -"How can people be dissatisfied with anything?" thought Natasha. -"Especially such a capital fellow as Bezukhov!" In Natasha's eyes -all the people at the ball alike were good, kind, and splendid people, -loving one another; none of them capable of injuring another- and so -they ought all to be happy. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Next day Prince Andrew thought of the ball, but his mind did not -dwell on it long. "Yes, it was a very brilliant ball," and then... -"Yes, that little Rostova is very charming. There's something fresh, -original, un-Petersburg-like about her that distinguishes her." That -was all he thought about yesterday's ball, and after his morning tea -he set to work. - -But either from fatigue or want of sleep he was ill-disposed for -work and could get nothing done. He kept criticizing his own work, -as he often did, and was glad when he heard someone coming. - -The visitor was Bitski, who served on various committees, frequented -all the societies in Petersburg, and a passionate devotee of the new -ideas and of Speranski, and a diligent Petersburg newsmonger- one of -those men who choose their opinions like their clothes according to -the fashion, but who for that very reason appear to be the warmest -partisans. Hardly had he got rid of his hat before he ran into -Prince Andrew's room with a preoccupied air and at once began talking. -He had just heard particulars of that morning's sitting of the Council -of State opened by the Emperor, and he spoke of it enthusiastically. -The Emperor's speech had been extraordinary. It had been a speech such -as only constitutional monarchs deliver. "The Sovereign plainly said -that the Council and Senate are estates of the realm, he said that the -government must rest not on authority but on secure bases. The Emperor -said that the fiscal system must be reorganized and the accounts -published," recounted Bitski, emphasizing certain words and opening -his eyes significantly. - -"Ah, yes! Today's events mark an epoch, the greatest epoch in our -history," he concluded. - -Prince Andrew listened to the account of the opening of the -Council of State, which he had so impatiently awaited and to which -he had attached such importance, and was surprised that this event, -now that it had taken place, did not affect him, and even seemed quite -insignificant. He listened with quiet irony to Bitski's enthusiastic -account of it. A very simple thought occurred to him: "What does it -matter to me or to Bitski what the Emperor was pleased to say at the -Council? Can all that make me any happier or better?" - -And this simple reflection suddenly destroyed all the interest -Prince Andrew had felt in the impending reforms. He was going to -dine that evening at Speranski's, "with only a few friends," as the -host had said when inviting him. The prospect of that dinner in the -intimate home circle of the man he so admired had greatly interested -Prince Andrew, especially as he had not yet seen Speranski in his -domestic surroundings, but now he felt disinclined to go to it. - -At the appointed hour, however, he entered the modest house -Speranski owned in the Taurida Gardens. In the parqueted dining room -this small house, remarkable for its extreme cleanliness (suggesting -that of a monastery), Prince Andrew, who was rather late, found the -friendly gathering of Speranski's intimate acquaintances already -assembled at five o'clock. There were no ladies present except -Speranski's little daughter (long-faced like her father) and her -governess. The other guests were Gervais, Magnitski, and Stolypin. -While still in the anteroom Prince Andrew heard loud voices and a -ringing staccato laugh- a laugh such as one hears on the stage. -Someone- it sounded like Speranski- was distinctly ejaculating -ha-ha-ha. Prince Andrew had never before heard Speranski's famous -laugh, and this ringing, high pitched laughter from a statesman made a -strange impression on him. - -He entered the dining room. The whole company were standing -between two windows at a small table laid with hors-d'oeuvres. -Speranski, wearing a gray swallow-tail coat with a star on the breast, -and evidently still the same waistcoat and high white stock he had -worn at the meeting of the Council of State, stood at the table with a -beaming countenance. His guests surrounded him. Magnitski, -addressing himself to Speranski, was relating an anecdote, and -Speranski was laughing in advance at what Magnitski was going to -say. When Prince Andrew entered the room Magnitski's words were -again crowned by laughter. Stolypin gave a deep bass guffaw as he -munched a piece of bread and cheese. Gervais laughed softly with a -hissing chuckle, and Speranski in a high-pitched staccato manner. - -Still laughing, Speranski held out his soft white hand to Prince -Andrew. - -"Very pleased to see you, Prince," he said. "One moment..." he -went on, turning to Magnitski and interrupting his story. "We have -agreed that this is a dinner for recreation, with not a word about -business!" and turning again to the narrator he began to laugh afresh. - -Prince Andrew looked at the laughing Speranski with astonishment, -regret, and disillusionment. It seemed to him that this was not -Speranski but someone else. Everything that had formerly appeared - -mysterious and fascinating in Speranski suddenly became plain and -unattractive. - -At dinner the conversation did not cease for a moment and seemed -to consist of the contents of a book of funny anecdotes. Before -Magnitski had finished his story someone else was anxious to relate -something still funnier. Most of the anecdotes, if not relating to the -state service, related to people in the service. It seemed that in -this company the insignificance of those people was so definitely -accepted that the only possible attitude toward them was one of good -humored ridicule. Speranski related how at the Council that morning -a deaf dignitary, when asked his opinion, replied that he thought so -too. Gervais gave a long account of an official revision, remarkable -for the stupidity of everybody concerned. Stolypin, stuttering, -broke into the conversation and began excitedly talking of the -abuses that existed under the former order of things- threatening to -give a serious turn to the conversation. Magnitski starting quizzing -Stolypin about his vehemence. Gervais intervened with a joke, and -the talk reverted to its former lively tone. - -Evidently Speranski liked to rest after his labors and find -amusement in a circle of friends, and his guests, understanding his -wish, tried to enliven him and amuse themselves. But their gaiety -seemed to Prince Andrew mirthless and tiresome. Speranski's -high-pitched voice struck him unpleasantly, and the incessant laughter -grated on him like a false note. Prince Andrew did not laugh and -feared that he would be a damper on the spirits of the company, but no -one took any notice of his being out of harmony with the general mood. -They all seemed very gay. - -He tried several times to join in the conversation, but his -remarks were tossed aside each time like a cork thrown out of the -water, and he could not jest with them. - -There was nothing wrong or unseemly in what they said, it was -witty and might have been funny, but it lacked just that something -which is the salt of mirth, and they were not even aware that such a -thing existed. - -After dinner Speranski's daughter and her governess rose. He -patted the little girl with his white hand and kissed her. And that -gesture, too, seemed unnatural to Prince Andrew. - -The men remained at table over their port- English fashion. In the -midst of a conversation that was started about Napoleon's Spanish -affairs, which they all agreed in approving, Prince Andrew began to -express a contrary opinion. Speranski smiled and, with an evident wish -to prevent the conversation from taking an unpleasant course, told a -story that had no connection with the previous conversation. For a few -moments all were silent. - -Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wine -and, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair," -passed it to the servant and got up. All rose and continuing to talk -loudly went into the drawing room. Two letters brought by a courier -were handed to Speranski and he took them to his study. As soon as -he had left the room the general merriment stopped and the guests -began to converse sensibly and quietly with one another. - -"Now for the recitation!" said Speranski on returning from his -study. "A wonderful talent!" he said to Prince Andrew, and Magnitski -immediately assumed a pose and began reciting some humorous verses -in French which he had composed about various well-known Petersburg -people. He was interrupted several times by applause. When the -verses were finished Prince Andrew went up to Speranski and took his -leave. - -"Where are you off to so early?" asked Speranski. - -"I promised to go to a reception." - -They said no more. Prince Andrew looked closely into those -mirrorlike, impenetrable eyes, and felt that it had been ridiculous of -him to have expected anything from Speranski and from any of his own -activities connected with him, or ever to have attributed importance -to what Speranski was doing. That precise, mirthless laughter rang -in Prince Andrew's ears long after he had left the house. - -When he reached home Prince Andrew began thinking of his life in -Petersburg during those last four months as if it were something -new. He recalled his exertions and solicitations, and the history of -his project of army reform, which had been accepted for -consideration and which they were trying to pass over in silence -simply because another, a very poor one, had already been prepared and -submitted to the Emperor. He thought of the meetings of a committee of -which Berg was a member. He remembered how carefully and at what -length everything relating to form and procedure was discussed at -those meetings, and how sedulously and promptly all that related to -the gist of the business was evaded. He recalled his labors on the -Legal Code, and how painstakingly he had translated the articles of -the Roman and French codes into Russian, and he felt ashamed of -himself. Then he vividly pictured to himself Bogucharovo, his -occupations in the country, his journey to Ryazan; he remembered the -peasants and Dron the village elder, and mentally applying to them the -Personal Rights he had divided into paragraphs, he felt astonished -that he could have spent so much time on such useless work. - -CHAPTER XIX - -Next day Prince Andrew called at a few houses he had not visited -before, and among them at the Rostovs' with whom he had renewed -acquaintance at the ball. Apart from considerations of politeness -which demanded the call, he wanted to see that original, eager girl -who had left such a pleasant impression on his mind, in her own home. - -Natasha was one of the first to meet him. She was wearing a -dark-blue house dress in which Prince Andrew thought her even prettier -than in her ball dress. She and all the Rostov family welcomed him -as an old friend, simply and cordially. The whole family, whom he -had formerly judged severely, now seemed to him to consist of -excellent, simple, and kindly people. The old count's hospitality -and good nature, which struck one especially in Petersburg as a -pleasant surprise, were such that Prince Andrew could not refuse to -stay to dinner. "Yes," he thought, "they are capital people, who of -course have not the slightest idea what a treasure they possess in -Natasha; but they are kindly folk and form the best possible setting -for this strikingly poetic, charming girl, overflowing with life!" - -In Natasha Prince Andrew was conscious of a strange world completely -alien to him and brimful of joys unknown to him, a different world, -that in the Otradnoe avenue and at the window that moonlight night had -already begun to disconcert him. Now this world disconcerted him no -longer and was no longer alien to him, but he himself having entered -it found in it a new enjoyment. - -After dinner Natasha, at Prince Andrew's request, went to the -clavichord and began singing. Prince Andrew stood by a window -talking to the ladies and listened to her. In the midst of a phrase he -ceased speaking and suddenly felt tears choking him, a thing he had -thought impossible for him. He looked at Natasha as she sang, and -something new and joyful stirred in his soul. He felt happy and at the -same time sad. He had absolutely nothing to weep about yet he was -ready to weep. What about? His former love? The little princess? His -disillusionments?... His hopes for the future?... Yes and no. The -chief reason was a sudden, vivid sense of the terrible contrast -between something infinitely great and illimitable within him and that -limited and material something that he, and even she, was. This -contrast weighed on and yet cheered him while she sang. - -As soon as Natasha had finished she went up to him and asked how -he liked her voice. She asked this and then became confused, feeling -that she ought not to have asked it. He smiled, looking at her, and -said he liked her singing as he liked everything she did. - -Prince Andrew left the Rostovs' late in the evening. He went to -bed from habit, but soon realized that he could not sleep. Having -lit his candle he sat up in bed, then got up, then lay down again -not at all troubled by his sleeplessness: his soul was as fresh and -joyful as if he had stepped out of a stuffy room into God's own -fresh air. It did not enter his head that he was in love with Natasha; -he was not thinking about her, but only picturing her to himself, -and in consequence all life appeared in a new light. "Why do I strive, -why do I toil in this narrow, confined frame, when life, all life with -all its joys, is open to me?" said he to himself. And for the first -time for a very long while he began making happy plans for the future. -He decided that he must attend to his son's education by finding a -tutor and putting the boy in his charge, then he ought to retire -from the service and go abroad, and see England, Switzerland and -Italy. "I must use my freedom while I feel so much strength and -youth in me," he said to himself. "Pierre was right when he said one -must believe in the possibility of happiness in order to be happy, and -now I do believe in it. Let the dead bury their dead, but while one -has life one must live and be happy!" thought he. - -CHAPTER XX - -One morning Colonel Berg, whom Pierre knew as he knew everybody in -Moscow and Petersburg, came to see him. Berg arrived in an -immaculate brand-new uniform, with his hair pomaded and brushed -forward over his temples as the Emperor Alexander wore his hair. - -"I have just been to see the countess, your wife. Unfortunately -she could not grant my request, but I hope, Count, I shall be more -fortunate with you," he said with a smile. - -"What is it you wish, Colonel? I am at your service." - -"I have now quite settled in my new rooms, Count" (Berg said this -with perfect conviction that this information could not but be -agreeable), "and so I wish to arrange just a small party for my own -and my wife's friends." (He smiled still more pleasantly.) "I wished -to ask the countess and you to do me the honor of coming to tea and to -supper." - -Only Countess Helene, considering the society of such people as -the Bergs beneath her, could be cruel enough to refuse such an -invitation. Berg explained so clearly why he wanted to collect at -his house a small but select company, and why this would give him -pleasure, and why though he grudged spending money on cards or -anything harmful, he was prepared to run into some expense for the -sake of good society- that Pierre could not refuse, and promised to -come. - -"But don't be late, Count, if I may venture to ask; about ten -minutes to eight, please. We shall make up a rubber. Our general is -coming. He is very good to me. We shall have supper, Count. So you -will do me the favor." - -Contrary to his habit of being late, Pierre on that day arrived at -the Bergs' house, not at ten but at fifteen minutes to eight. - -Having prepared everything necessary for the party, the Bergs were -really for their guests' arrival. - -In their new, clean, and light study with its small busts and -pictures and new furniture sat Berg and his wife. Berg, closely -buttoned up in his new uniform, sat beside his wife explaining to -her that one always could and should be acquainted with people above -one, because only then does one get satisfaction from acquaintances. - -"You can get to know something, you can ask for something. See how I -managed from my first promotion." (Berg measured his life not by years -but by promotions.) "My comrades are still nobodies, while I am only -waiting for a vacancy to command a regiment, and have the happiness to -be your husband." (He rose and kissed Vera's hand, and on the way to -her straightened out a turned-up corner of the carpet.) "And how -have I obtained all this? Chiefly by knowing how to choose my -aquaintances. It goes without saying that one must be conscientious -and methodical." - -Berg smiled with a sense of his superiority over a weak woman, and -paused, reflecting that this dear wife of his was after all but a weak -woman who could not understand all that constitutes a man's dignity, -what it was ein Mann zu sein.~{ To be a man. }~ Vera at the same time smiling with a -sense of superiority over her good, conscientious husband, who all the -same understood life wrongly, as according to Vera all men did. -Berg, judging by his wife, thought all women weak and foolish. Vera, -judging only by her husband and generalizing from that observation, -supposed that all men, though they understand nothing and are -conceited and selfish, ascribe common sense to themselves alone. - -Berg rose and embraced his wife carefully, so as not to crush her -lace fichu for which he had paid a good price, kissing her straight on -the lips. - -"The only thing is, we mustn't have children too soon," he -continued, following an unconscious sequence of ideas. - -"Yes," answered Vera, "I don't at all want that. We must live for -society." - -"Princess Yusupova wore one exactly like this," said Berg, -pointing to the fichu with a happy and kindly smile. - -Just then Count Bezukhov was announced. Husband and wife glanced -at one another, both smiling with self-satisfaction, and each mentally -claiming the honor of this visit. - -"This is what what comes of knowing how to make acquaintances," -thought Berg. "This is what comes of knowing how to conduct oneself." - -"But please don't interrupt me when I am entertaining the guests," -said Vera, "because I know what interests each of them and what to say -to different people." - -Berg smiled again. - -"It can't be helped: men must sometimes have masculine -conversation," said he. - -They received Pierre in their small, new drawing-room, where it -was impossible to sit down anywhere without disturbing its symmetry, -neatness, and order; so it was quite comprehensible and not strange -that Berg, having generously offered to disturb the symmetry of an -armchair or of the sofa for his dear guest, but being apparently -painfully undecided on the matter himself, eventually left the visitor -to settle the question of selection. Pierre disturbed the symmetry -by moving a chair for himself, and Berg and Vera immediately began -their evening party, interrupting each other in their efforts to -entertain their guest. - -Vera, having decided in her own mind that Pierre ought to be -entertained with conversation about the French embassy, at once -began accordingly. Berg, having decided that masculine conversation -was required, interrupted his wife's remarks and touched on the -question of the war with Austria, and unconsciously jumped from the -general subject to personal considerations as to the proposals made -him to take part in the Austrian campaign and the reasons why he had -declined them. Though the conversation was very incoherent and Vera -was angry at the intrusion of the masculine element, both husband -and wife felt with satisfaction that, even if only one guest was -present, their evening had begun very well and was as like as two peas -to every other evening party with its talk, tea, and lighted candles. - -Before long Boris, Berg's old comrade, arrived. There was a shade of -condescension and patronage in his treatment of Berg and Vera. After -Boris came a lady with the colonel, then the general himself, then the -Rostovs, and the party became unquestionably exactly like all other -evening parties. Berg and Vera could not repress their smiles of -satisfaction at the sight of all this movement in their drawing -room, at the sound of the disconnected talk, the rustling of -dresses, and the bowing and scraping. Everything was just as everybody -always has it, especially so the general, who admired the apartment, -patted Berg on the shoulder, and with parental authority superintended -the setting out of the table for boston. The general sat down by Count -Ilya Rostov, who was next to himself the most important guest. The old -people sat with the old, the young with the young, and the hostess -at the tea table, on which stood exactly the same kind of cakes in a -silver cake basket as the Panins had at their party. Everything was -just as it was everywhere else. - -CHAPTER XXI - -Pierre, as one of the principal guests, had to sit down to boston -with Count Rostov, the general, and the colonel. At the card table -he happened to be directly facing Natasha, and was struck by a curious -change that had come over her since the ball, She was silent, and -not only less pretty than at the ball, but only redeemed from -plainness by her look of gentle indifference to everything around. - -"What's the matter with her?" thought Pierre, glancing at her. She -was sitting by her sister at the tea table, and reluctantly, without -looking at him, made some reply to Boris who sat down beside her. -After playing out a whole suit and to his partner's delight taking -five tricks, Pierre, hearing greetings and the steps of someone who -had entered the room while he was picking up his tricks, glanced again -at Natasha. - -"What has happened to her?" he asked himself with still greater -surprise. - -Prince Andrew was standing before her, saying something to her -with a look of tender solicitude. She, having raised her head, was -looking up at him, flushed and evidently trying to master her rapid -breathing. And the bright glow of some inner fire that had been -suppressed was again alight in her. She was completely transformed and -from a plain girl had again become what she had been at the ball. - -Prince Andrew went up to Pierre, and the latter noticed a new and -youthful expression in his friend's face. - -Pierre changed places several times during the game, sitting now -with his back to Natasha and now facing her, but during the whole of -the six rubbers he watched her and his friend. - -"Something very important is happening between them," thought -Pierre, and a feeling that was both joyful and painful agitated him -and made him neglect the game. - -After six rubbers the general got up, saying that it was no use -playing like that, and Pierre was released. Natasha on one side was -talking with Sonya and Boris, and Vera with a subtle smile was -saying something to Prince Andrew. Pierre went up to his friend and, -asking whether they were talking secrets, sat down beside them. -Vera, having noticed Prince Andrew's attentions to Natasha, decided -that at a party, a real evening party, subtle allusions to the -tender passion were absolutely necessary and, seizing a moment when -Prince Andrew was alone, began a conversation with him about -feelings in general and about her sister. With so intellectual a guest -as she considered Prince Andrew to be, she felt that she had to employ -her diplomatic tact. - -When Pierre went up to them he noticed that Vera was being carried -away by her self-satisfied talk, but that Prince Andrew seemed -embarrassed, a thing that rarely happened with him. - -"What do you think?" Vera was saying with an arch smile. "You are so -discerning, Prince, and understand people's characters so well at a -glance. What do you think of Natalie? Could she be constant in her -attachments? Could she, like other women" (Vera meant herself), -"love a man once for all and remain true to him forever? That is -what I consider true love. What do you think, Prince?" - -"I know your sister too little," replied Prince Andrew, with a -sarcastic smile under which he wished to hide his embarrassment, "to -be able to solve so delicate a question, and then I have noticed -that the less attractive a woman is the more constant she is likely to -be," he added, and looked up Pierre who was just approaching them. - -"Yes, that is true, Prince. In our days," continued Vera- mentioning -"our days" as people of limited intelligence are fond of doing, -imagining that they have discovered and appraised the peculiarities of -"our days" and that human characteristics change with the times- "in -our days a girl has so much freedom that the pleasure of being courted -often stifles real feeling in her. And it must be confessed that -Natalie is very susceptible." This return to the subject of Natalie -caused Prince Andrew to knit his brows with discomfort: he was about -to rise, but Vera continued with a still more subtle smile: - -"I think no one has been more courted than she," she went on, "but -till quite lately she never cared seriously for anyone. Now you -know, Count," she said to Pierre, "even our dear cousin Boris, who, -between ourselves, was very far gone in the land of tenderness..." -(alluding to a map of love much in vogue at that time). - -Prince Andrew frowned and remained silent. - -"You are friendly with Boris, aren't you?" asked Vera. - -"Yes, I know him..." - -"I expect he has told you of his childish love for Natasha?" - -"Oh, there was childish love?" suddenly asked Prince Andrew, -blushing unexpectedly. - -"Yes, you know between cousins intimacy often leads to love. Le -cousinage est un dangereux voisinage.~{ "Cousinhood is a dangerous neighborhood." }~ Don't you think so?" - -"Oh, undoubtedly!" said Prince Andrew, and with sudden and unnatural -liveliness he began chaffing Pierre about the need to be very -careful with his fifty-year-old Moscow cousins, and in the midst of -these jesting remarks he rose, taking Pierre by the arm, and drew -him aside. - -"Well?" asked Pierre, seeing his friend's strange animation with -surprise, and noticing the glance he turned on Natasha as he rose. - -"I must... I must have a talk with you," said Prince Andrew. "You -know that pair of women's gloves?" (He referred to the Masonic -gloves given to a newly initiated Brother to present to the woman he -loved.) "I... but no, I will talk to you later on," and with a strange -light in his eyes and restlessness in his movements, Prince Andrew -approached Natasha and sat down beside her. Pierre saw how Prince -Andrew asked her something and how she flushed as she replied. - -But at that moment Berg came to Pierre and began insisting that he -should take part in an argument between the general and the colonel on -the affairs in Spain. - -Berg was satisfied and happy. The smile of pleasure never left his -face. The party was very successful and quite like other parties he -had seen. Everything was similar: the ladies' subtle talk, the -cards, the general raising his voice at the card table, and the -samovar and the tea cakes; only one thing was lacking that he had -always seen at the evening parties he wished to imitate. They had -not yet had a loud conversation among the men and a dispute about -something important and clever. Now the general had begun such a -discussion and so Berg drew Pierre to it. - -CHAPTER XXII - -Next day, having been invited by the count, Prince Andrew dined with -the Rostovs and spent the rest of the day there. - -Everyone in the house realized for whose sake Prince Andrew came, -and without concealing it he tried to be with Natasha all day. Not -only in the soul of the frightened yet happy and enraptured Natasha, -but in the whole house, there was a feeling of awe at something -important that was bound to happen. The countess looked with sad and -sternly serious eyes at Prince Andrew when he talked to Natasha and -timidly started some artificial conversation about trifles as soon -as he looked her way. Sonya was afraid to leave Natasha and afraid -of being in the way when she was with them. Natasha grew pale, in a -panic of expectation, when she remained alone with him for a moment. -Prince Andrew surprised her by his timidity. She felt that he wanted -to say something to her but could not bring himself to do so. - -In the evening, when Prince Andrew had left, the countess went up to -Natasha and whispered: "Well, what?" - -"Mamma! For heaven's sake don't ask me anything now! One can't -talk about that," said Natasha. - -But all the same that night Natasha, now agitated and now -frightened, lay long time in her mother's bed gazing straight before -her. She told her how he had complimented her, how he told her he -was going abroad, asked her where they were going to spend the summer, -and then how he had asked her about Boris. - -"But such a... such a... never happened to me before!" she said. -"Only I feel afraid in his presence. I am always afraid when I'm -with him. What does that mean? Does it mean that it's the real -thing? Yes? Mamma, are you asleep?" - -"No, my love; I am frightened myself," answered her mother. "Now -go!" - -"All the same I shan't sleep. What silliness, to sleep! Mummy! -Mummy! such a thing never happened to me before," she said, -surprised and alarmed at the feeling she was aware of in herself. "And -could we ever have thought!..." - -It seemed to Natasha that even at the time she first saw Prince -Andrew at Otradnoe she had fallen in love with him. It was as if she -feared this strange, unexpected happiness of meeting again the very -man she had then chosen (she was firmly convinced she had done so) and -of finding him, as it seemed, not indifferent to her. - -"And it had to happen that he should come specially to Petersburg -while we are here. And it had to happen that we should meet at that -ball. It is fate. Clearly it is fate that everything led up to this! -Already then, directly I saw him I felt something peculiar." - -"What else did he say to you? What are those verses? Read them..." -said her mother, thoughtfully, referring to some verses Prince -Andrew had written in Natasha's album. - -"Mamma, one need not be ashamed of his being a widower?" - -"Don't, Natasha! Pray to God. 'Marriages are made in heaven,'" -said her mother. - -"Darling Mummy, how I love you! How happy I am!" cried Natasha, -shedding tears of joy and excitement and embracing her mother. - -At that very time Prince Andrew was sitting with Pierre and -telling him of his love for Natasha and his firm resolve to make her -his wife. - -That day Countess Helene had a reception at her house. The French -ambassador was there, and a foreign prince of the blood who had of -late become a frequent visitor of hers, and many brilliant ladies -and gentlemen. Pierre, who had come downstairs, walked through the -rooms and struck everyone by his preoccupied, absent-minded, and -morose air. - -Since the ball he had felt the approach of a fit of nervous -depression and had made desperate efforts to combat it. Since the -intimacy of his wife with the royal prince, Pierre had unexpectedly -been made a gentleman of the bedchamber, and from that time he had -begun to feel oppressed and ashamed in court society, and dark -thoughts of the vanity of all things human came to him oftener than -before. At the same time the feeling he had noticed between his -protegee Natasha and Prince Andrew accentuated his gloom by the -contrast between his own position and his friend's. He tried equally -to avoid thinking about his wife, and about Natasha and Prince Andrew; -and again everything seemed to him insignificant in comparison with -eternity; again the question: for what? presented itself; and he -forced himself to work day and night at Masonic labors, hoping to -drive away the evil spirit that threatened him. Toward midnight, after -he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a -shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the -Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with -tobacco smoke, when someone came in. It was Prince Andrew. - -"Ah, it's you!" said Pierre with a preoccupied, dissatisfied air. -"And I, you see, am hard at it." He pointed to his manuscript book -with that air of escaping from the ills of life with which unhappy -people look at their work. - -Prince Andrew, with a beaming, ecstatic expression of renewed life -on his face, paused in front of Pierre and, not noticing his sad look, -smiled at him with the egotism of joy. - -"Well, dear heart," said he, "I wanted to tell you about it -yesterday and I have come to do so today. I never experienced anything -like it before. I am in love, my friend!" - -Suddenly Pierre heaved a deep sigh and dumped his heavy person -down on the sofa beside Prince Andrew. - -"With Natasha Rostova, yes?" said he. - -"Yes, yes! Who else should it be? I should never have believed it, -but the feeling is stronger than I. Yesterday I tormented myself and -suffered, but I would not exchange even that torment for anything in -the world, I have not lived till now. At last I live, but I can't live -without her! But can she love me?... I am too old for her.... Why -don't you speak?" - -"I? I? What did I tell you?" said Pierre suddenly, rising and -beginning to pace up and down the room. "I always thought it.... -That girl is such a treasure... she is a rare girl.... My dear friend, -I entreat you, don't philosophize, don't doubt, marry, marry, -marry.... And I am sure there will not be a happier man than you." - -"But what of her?" - -"She loves you." - -"Don't talk rubbish..." said Prince Andrew, smiling and looking into -Pierre's eyes. - -"She does, I know," Pierre cried fiercely. - -"But do listen," returned Prince Andrew, holding him by the arm. "Do -you know the condition I am in? I must talk about it to someone." - -"Well, go on, go on. I am very glad," said Pierre, and his face -really changed, his brow became smooth, and he listened gladly to -Prince Andrew. Prince Andrew seemed, and really was, quite a -different, quite a new man. Where was his spleen, his contempt for -life, his disillusionment? Pierre was the only person to whom he -made up his mind to speak openly; and to him he told all that was in -his soul. Now he boldly and lightly made plans for an extended future, -said he could not sacrifice his own happiness to his father's caprice, -and spoke of how he would either make his father consent to this -marriage and love her, or would do without his consent; then he -marveled at the feeling that had mastered him as at something strange, -apart from and independent of himself. - -"I should not have believed anyone who told me that I was capable of -such love," said Prince Andrew. "It is not at all the same feeling -that I knew in the past. The whole world is now for me divided into -two halves: one half is she, and there all is joy, hope, light: the -other half is everything where she is not, and there is all gloom -and darkness...." - -"Darkness and gloom," reiterated Pierre: "yes, yes, I understand -that." - -"I cannot help loving the light, it is not my fault. And I am very -happy! You understand me? I know you are glad for my sake." - -"Yes, yes," Pierre assented, looking at his friend with a touched -and sad expression in his eyes. The brighter Prince Andrew's lot -appeared to him, the gloomier seemed his own. - -CHAPTER XXIII - -Prince Andrew needed his father's consent to his marriage, and to -obtain this he started for the country next day. - -His father received his son's communication with external composure, -but inward wrath. He could not comprehend how anyone could wish to -alter his life or introduce anything new into it, when his own life -was already ending. "If only they would let me end my days as I want -to," thought the old man, "then they might do as they please." With -his son, however, he employed the diplomacy he reserved for -important occasions and, adopting a quiet tone, discussed the whole -matter. - -In the first place the marriage was not a brilliant one as regards -birth, wealth, or rank. Secondly, Prince Andrew was no longer as young -as he had been and his health was poor (the old man laid special -stress on this), while she was very young. Thirdly, he had a son -whom it would be a pity to entrust to a chit of a girl. "Fourthly -and finally," the father said, looking ironically at his son, "I beg -you to put it off for a year: go abroad, take a cure, look out as -you wanted to for a German tutor for Prince Nicholas. Then if your -love or passion or obstinacy- as you please- is still as great, marry! -And that's my last word on it. Mind, the last..." concluded the -prince, in a tone which showed that nothing would make him alter his -decision. - -Prince Andrew saw clearly that the old man hoped that his -feelings, or his fiancee's, would not stand a year's test, or that -he (the old prince himself) would die before then, and he decided to -conform to his father's wish- to propose, and postpone the wedding for -a year. - -Three weeks after the last evening he had spent with the Rostovs, -Prince Andrew returned to Petersburg. - -Next day after her talk with her mother Natasha expected Bolkonski -all day, but he did not come. On the second and third day it was the -same. Pierre did not come either and Natasha, not knowing that -Prince Andrew had gone to see his father, could not explain his -absence to herself. - -Three weeks passed in this way. Natasha had no desire to go out -anywhere and wandered from room to room like a shadow, idle and -listless; she wept secretly at night and did not go to her mother in -the evenings. She blushed continually and was irritable. It seemed -to her that everybody knew about her disappointment and was laughing -at her and pitying her. Strong as was her inward grief, this wound -to her vanity intensified her misery. - -Once she came to her mother, tried to say something, and suddenly -began to cry. Her tears were those of an offended child who does not -know why it is being punished. - -The countess began to soothe Natasha, who after first listening to -her mother's words, suddenly interrupted her: - -"Leave off, Mamma! I don't think, and don't want to think about -it! He just came and then left off, left off..." - -Her voice trembled, and she again nearly cried, but recovered and -went on quietly: - -"And I don't at all want to get married. And I am afraid of him; I -have now become quite calm, quite calm." - -The day after this conversation Natasha put on the old dress which -she knew had the peculiar property of conducing to cheerfulness in the -mornings, and that day she returned to the old way of life which she -had abandoned since the ball. Having finished her morning tea she went -to the ballroom, which she particularly liked for its loud -resonance, and began singing her solfeggio. When she had finished -her first exercise she stood still in the middle of the room and -sang a musical phrase that particularly pleased her. She listened -joyfully (as though she had not expected it) to the charm of the notes -reverberating, filling the whole empty ballroom, and slowly dying -away; and all at once she felt cheerful. "What's the good of making so -much of it? Things are nice as it is," she said to herself, and she -began walking up and down the room, not stepping simply on the -resounding parquet but treading with each step from the heel to the -toe (she had on a new and favorite pair of shoes) and listening to the -regular tap of the heel and creak of the toe as gladly as she had to -the sounds of her own voice. Passing a mirror she glanced into it. -"There, that's me!" the expression of her face seemed to say as she -caught sight of herself. "Well, and very nice too! I need nobody." - -A footman wanted to come in to clear away something in the room -but she would not let him, and having closed the door behind him -continued her walk. That morning she had returned to her favorite -mood- love of, and delight in, herself. "How charming that Natasha -is!" she said again, speaking as some third, collective, male -person. "Pretty, a good voice, young, and in nobody's way if only they -leave her in peace." But however much they left her in peace she could -not now be at peace, and immediately felt this. - -In the hall the porch door opened, and someone asked, "At home?" and -then footsteps were heard. Natasha was looking at the mirror, but -did not see herself. She listened to the sounds in the hall. When -she saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this for -certain, though she hardly heard his voice through the closed doors. - -Pale and agitated, Natasha ran into the drawing room. - -"Mamma! Bolkonski has come!" she said. "Mamma, it is awful, it is -unbearable! I don't want... to be tormented? What am I to do?..." - -Before the countess could answer, Prince Andrew entered the room -with an agitated and serious face. As soon as he saw Natasha his -face brightened. He kissed the countess' hand and Natasha's, and sat -down beside the sofa. - -"It is long since we had the pleasure..." began the countess, but -Prince Andrew interrupted her by answering her intended question, -obviously in haste to say what he had to. - -"I have not been to see all this time because I have been at my -father's. I had to talk over a very important matter with him. I -only got back last night," he said glancing at Natasha; "I want to -have a talk with you, Countess," he added after a moment's pause. - -The countess lowered her eyes, sighing deeply. - -"I am at your disposal," she murmured. - -Natasha knew that she ought to go away, but was unable to do so: -something gripped her throat, and regardless of manners she stared -straight at Prince Andrew with wide-open eyes. - -"At once? This instant!... No, it can't be!" she thought. - -Again he glanced at her, and that glance convinced her that she -was not mistaken. Yes, at once, that very instant, her fate would be -decided. - -"Go, Natasha! I will call you," said the countess in a whisper. - -Natasha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andrew -and at her mother and went out. - -"I have come, Countess, to ask for your daughter's hand," said -Prince Andrew. - -The countess' face flushed hotly, but she said nothing. - -"Your offer..." she began at last sedately. He remained silent, -looking into her eyes. "Your offer..." (she grew confused) "is -agreeable to us, and I accept your offer. I am glad. And my husband... -I hope... but it will depend on her...." - -"I will speak to her when I have your consent.... Do you give it -to me?" said Prince Andrew. - -"Yes," replied the countess. She held out her hand to him, and -with a mixed feeling of estrangement and tenderness pressed her lips -to his forehead as he stooped to kiss her hand. She wished to love him -as a son, but felt that to her he was a stranger and a terrifying man. -"I am sure my husband will consent," said the countess, "but your -father..." - -"My father, to whom I have told my plans, has made it an express -condition of his consent that the wedding is not to take place for a -year. And I wished to tell you of that," said Prince Andrew. - -"It is true that Natasha is still young, but- so long as that?..." - -"It is unavoidable," said Prince Andrew with a sigh. - -"I will send her to you," said the countess, and left the room. - -"Lord have mercy upon us!" she repeated while seeking her daughter. - -Sonya said that Natasha was in her bedroom. Natasha was sitting on -the bed, pale and dry eyed, and was gazing at the icons and whispering -something as she rapidly crossed herself. Seeing her mother she jumped -up and flew to her. - -"Well, Mamma?... Well?..." - -"Go, go to him. He is asking for your hand," said the countess, -coldly it seemed to Natasha. "Go... go," said the mother, sadly and -reproachfully, with a deep sigh, as her daughter ran away. - -Natasha never remembered how she entered the drawing room. When -she came in and saw him she paused. "Is it possible that this stranger -has now become everything to me?" she asked herself, and immediately -answered, "Yes, everything! He alone is now dearer to me than -everything in the world." Prince Andrew came up to her with downcast -eyes. - -"I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you. May I hope?" - -He looked at her and was struck by the serious impassioned -expression of her face. Her face said: "Why ask? Why doubt what you -cannot but know? Why speak, when words cannot express what one feels?" - -She drew near to him and stopped. He took her hand and kissed it. - -"Do you love me?" - -"Yes, yes!" Natasha murmured as if in vexation. Then she sighed -loudly and, catching her breath more and more quickly, began to sob. - -"What is it? What's the matter?" - -"Oh, I am so happy!" she replied, smiled through her tears, bent -over closer to him, paused for an instant as if asking herself whether -she might, and then kissed him. - -Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not find -in his heart his former love for her. Something in him had suddenly -changed; there was no longer the former poetic and mystic charm of -desire, but there was pity for her feminine and childish weakness, -fear at her devotion and trustfulness, and an oppressive yet joyful -sense of the duty that now bound him to her forever. The present -feeling, though not so bright and poetic as the former, was stronger -and more serious. - -"Did your mother tell you that it cannot be for a year?" asked -Prince Andrew, still looking into her eyes. - -"Is it possible that I- the 'chit of a girl,' as everybody called -me," thought Natasha- "is it possible that I am now to be the wife and -the equal of this strange, dear, clever man whom even my father -looks up to? Can it be true? Can it be true that there can be no -more playing with life, that now I am grown up, that on me now lies -a responsibility for my every word and deed? Yes, but what did he -ask me?" - -"No," she replied, but she had not understood his question. - -"Forgive me!" he said. "But you are so young, and I have already -been through so much in life. I am afraid for you, you do not yet know -yourself." - -Natasha listened with concentrated attention, trying but failing -to take in the meaning of his words. - -"Hard as this year which delays my happiness will be," continued -Prince Andrew, "it will give you time to be sure of yourself. I ask -you to make me happy in a year, but you are free: our engagement shall -remain a secret, and should you find that you do not love me, or -should you come to love..." said Prince Andrew with an unnatural -smile. - -"Why do you say that?" Natasha interrupted him. "You know that -from the very day you first came to Otradnoe I have loved you," she -cried, quite convinced that she spoke the truth. - -"In a year you will learn to know yourself...." - -"A whole year!" Natasha repeated suddenly, only now realizing that -the marriage was to be postponed for a year. "But why a year? Why a -year?..." - -Prince Andrew began to explain to her the reasons for this delay. -Natasha did not hear him. - -"And can't it be helped?" she asked. Prince Andrew did not reply, -but his face expressed the impossibility of altering that decision. - -"It's awful! Oh, it's awful! awful!" Natasha suddenly cried, and -again burst into sobs. "I shall die, waiting a year: it's -impossible, it's awful!" She looked into her lover's face and saw in -it a look of commiseration and perplexity. - -"No, no! I'll do anything!" she said, suddenly checking her tears. -"I am so happy." - -The father and mother came into the room and gave the betrothed -couple their blessing. - -From that day Prince Andrew began to frequent the Rostovs' as -Natasha's affianced lover. - -CHAPTER XXIV - -No betrothal ceremony took place and Natasha's engagement to -Bolkonski was not announced; Prince Andrew insisted on that. He said -that as he was responsible for the delay he ought to bear the whole -burden of it; that he had given his word and bound himself forever, -but that he did not wish to bind Natasha and gave her perfect freedom. -If after six months she felt that she did not love him she would -have full right to reject him. Naturally neither Natasha nor her -parents wished to hear of this, but Prince Andrew was firm. He came -every day to the Rostovs', but did not behave to Natasha as an -affianced lover: he did not use the familiar thou, but said you to -her, and kissed only her hand. After their engagement, quite -different, intimate, and natural relations sprang up between them. -It was as if they had not known each other till now. Both liked to -recall how they had regarded each other when as yet they were -nothing to one another; they felt themselves now quite different -beings: then they were artificial, now natural and sincere. At first -the family felt some constraint in intercourse with Prince Andrew; -he seemed a man from another world, and for a long time Natasha -trained the family to get used to him, proudly assuring them all -that he only appeared to be different, but was really just like all of -them, and that she was not afraid of him and no one else ought to -be. After a few days they grew accustomed to him, and without -restraint in his presence pursued their usual way of life, in which he -took his part. He could talk about rural economy with the count, -fashions with the countess and Natasha, and about albums and fancywork -with Sonya. Sometimes the household both among themselves and in his -presence expressed their wonder at how it had all happened, and at the -evident omens there had been of it: Prince Andrew's coming to Otradnoe -and their coming to Petersburg, and the likeness between Natasha and -Prince Andrew which her nurse had noticed on his first visit, and -Andrew's encounter with Nicholas in 1805, and many other incidents -betokening that it had to be. - -In the house that poetic dullness and quiet reigned which always -accompanies the presence of a betrothed couple. Often when all sitting -together everyone kept silent. Sometimes the others would get up and -go away and the couple, left alone, still remained silent. They rarely -spoke of their future life. Prince Andrew was afraid and ashamed to -speak of it. Natasha shared this as she did all his feelings, which -she constantly divined. Once she began questioning him about his -son. Prince Andrew blushed, as he often did now- Natasha -particularly liked it in him- and said that his son would not live -with them. - -"Why not?" asked Natasha in a frightened tone. - -"I cannot take him away from his grandfather, and besides..." - -"How I should have loved him!" said Natasha, immediately guessing -his thought; "but I know you wish to avoid any pretext for finding -fault with us." - -Sometimes the old count would come up, kiss Prince Andrew, and ask -his advice about Petya's education or Nicholas' service. The old -countess sighed as she looked at them; Sonya was always getting -frightened lest she should be in the way and tried to find excuses for -leaving them alone, even when they did not wish it. When Prince Andrew -spoke (he could tell a story very well), Natasha listened to him -with pride; when she spoke she noticed with fear and joy that he gazed -attentively and scrutinizingly at her. She asked herself in -perplexity: "What does he look for in me? He is trying to discover -something by looking at me! What if what he seeks in me is not there?" -Sometimes she fell into one of the mad, merry moods characteristic -of her, and then she particularly loved to hear and see how Prince -Andrew laughed. He seldom laughed, but when he did he abandoned -himself entirely to his laughter, and after such a laugh she always -felt nearer to him. Natasha would have been completely happy if the -thought of the separation awaiting her and drawing near had not -terrified her, just as the mere thought of it made him turn pale and -cold. - -On the eve of his departure from Petersburg Prince Andrew brought -with him Pierre, who had not been to the Rostovs' once since the ball. -Pierre seemed disconcerted and embarrassed. He was talking to the -countess, and Natasha sat down beside a little chess table with Sonya, -thereby inviting Prince Andrew to come too. He did so. - -"You have known Bezukhov a long time?" he asked. "Do you like him?" - -"Yes, he's a dear, but very absurd." - -And as usual when speaking of Pierre, she began to tell anecdotes of -his absent-mindedness, some of which had even been invented about him. - -"Do you know I have entrusted him with our secret? I have known -him from childhood. He has a heart of gold. I beg you, Natalie," -Prince Andrew said with sudden seriousness- "I am going away and -heaven knows what may happen. You may cease to... all right, I know -I am not to say that. Only this, then: whatever may happen to you when -I am not here..." - -"What can happen?" - -"Whatever trouble may come," Prince Andrew continued, "I beg you, -Mademoiselle Sophie, whatever may happen, to turn to him alone for -advice and help! He is a most absent-minded and absurd fellow, but -he has a heart of gold." - -Neither her father, nor her mother, nor Sonya, nor Prince Andrew -himself could have foreseen how the separation from her lover would -act on Natasha. Flushed and agitated she went about the house all that -day, dry-eyed, occupied with most trivial matters as if not -understanding what awaited her. She did not even cry when, on taking -leave, he kissed her hand for the last time. "Don't go!" she said in a -tone that made him wonder whether he really ought not to stay and -which he remembered long afterwards. Nor did she cry when he was gone; -but for several days she sat in her room dry-eyed, taking no -interest in anything and only saying now and then, "Oh, why did he -go away?" - -But a fortnight after his departure, to the surprise of those around -her, she recovered from her mental sickness just as suddenly and -became her old self again, but with a change in her moral physiognomy, -as a child gets up after a long illness with a changed expression of -face. - -CHAPTER XXV - -During that year after his son's departure, Prince Nicholas -Bolkonski's health and temper became much worse. He grew still more -irritable, and it was Princess Mary who generally bore the brunt of -his frequent fits of unprovoked anger. He seemed carefully to seek out -her tender spots so as to torture her mentally as harshly as possible. -Princess Mary had two passions and consequently two joys- her -nephew, little Nicholas, and religion- and these were the favorite -subjects of the prince's attacks and ridicule. Whatever was spoken -of he would bring round to the superstitiousness of old maids, or -the petting and spoiling of children. "You want to make him"- little -Nicholas- "into an old maid like yourself! A pity! Prince Andrew wants -a son and not an old maid," he would say. Or, turning to -Mademoiselle Bourienne, he would ask her in Princess Mary's presence -how she liked our village priests and icons and would joke about them. - -He continually hurt Princess Mary's feelings and tormented her, -but it cost her no effort to forgive him. Could he be to blame -toward her, or could her father, whom she knew loved her in spite of -it all, be unjust? And what is justice? The princess never thought -of that proud word "justice." All the complex laws of man centered for -her in one clear and simple law- the law of love and self-sacrifice -taught us by Him who lovingly suffered for mankind though He Himself -was God. What had she to do with the justice or injustice of other -people? She had to endure and love, and that she did. - -During the winter Prince Andrew had come to Bald Hills and had -been gay, gentle, and more affectionate than Princess Mary had known -him for a long time past. She felt that something had happened to him, -but he said nothing to her about his love. Before he left he had a -long talk with his father about something, and Princess Mary noticed -that before his departure they were dissatisfied with one another. - -Soon after Prince Andrew had gone, Princess Mary wrote to her friend -Julie Karagina in Petersburg, whom she had dreamed (as all girls -dream) of marrying to her brother, and who was at that time in -mourning for her own brother, killed in Turkey. - -Sorrow, it seems, is our common lot, my dear, tender friend Julie. - -Your loss is so terrible that I can only explain it to myself as a -special providence of God who, loving you, wishes to try you and -your excellent mother. Oh, my friend! Religion, and religion alone, -can- I will not say comfort us- but save us from despair. Religion -alone can explain to us what without its help man cannot comprehend: -why, for what cause, kind and noble beings able to find happiness in -life- not merely harming no one but necessary to the happiness of -others- are called away to God, while cruel, useless, harmful persons, -or such as are a burden to themselves and to others, are left -living. The first death I saw, and one I shall never forget- that of -my dear sister-in-law- left that impression on me. Just as you ask -destiny why your splendid brother had to die, so I asked why that -angel Lise, who not only never wronged anyone, but in whose soul there -were never any unkind thoughts, had to die. And what do you think, -dear friend? Five years have passed since then, and already I, with my -petty understanding, begin to see clearly why she had to die, and in -what way that death was but an expression of the infinite goodness -of the Creator, whose every action, though generally -incomprehensible to us, is but a manifestation of His infinite love -for His creatures. Perhaps, I often think, she was too angelically -innocent to have the strength to perform all a mother's duties. As a -young wife she was irreproachable; perhaps she could not have been -so as a mother. As it is, not only has she left us, and particularly -Prince Andrew, with the purest regrets and memories, but probably -she will there receive a place I dare not hope for myself. But not -to speak of her alone, that early and terrible death has had the -most beneficent influence on me and on my brother in spite of all -our grief. Then, at the moment of our loss, these thoughts could not -occur to me; I should then have dismissed them with horror, but now -they are very clear and certain. I write all this to you, dear friend, -only to convince you of the Gospel truth which has become for me a -principle of life: not a single hair of our heads will fall without -His will. And His will is governed only by infinite love for us, and -so whatever befalls us is for our good. - -You ask whether we shall spend next winter in Moscow. In spite of my -wish to see you, I do not think so and do not want to do so. You -will be surprised to hear that the reason for this is Buonaparte! -The case is this: my father's health is growing noticeably worse, he -cannot stand any contradiction and is becoming irritable. This -irritability is, as you know, chiefly directed to political questions. -He cannot endure the notion that Buonaparte is negotiating on equal -terms with all the sovereigns of Europe and particularly with our own, -the grandson of the Great Catherine! As you know, I am quite -indifferent to politics, but from my father's remarks and his talks -with Michael Ivanovich I know all that goes on in the world and -especially about the honors conferred on Buonaparte, who only at -Bald Hills in the whole world, it seems, is not accepted as a great -man, still less as Emperor of France. And my father cannot stand this. -It seems to me that it is chiefly because of his political views -that my father is reluctant to speak of going to Moscow; for he -foresees the encounters that would result from his way of expressing -his views regardless of anybody. All the benefit he might derive -from a course of treatment he would lose as a result of the disputes -about Buonaparte which would be inevitable. In any case it will be -decided very shortly. - -Our family life goes on in the old way except for my brother -Andrew's absence. He, as I wrote you before, has changed very much -of late. After his sorrow he only this year quite recovered his -spirits. He has again become as I used to know him when a child: kind, -affectionate, with that heart of gold to which I know no equal. He has -realized, it seems to me, that life is not over for him. But -together with this mental change he has grown physically much -weaker. He has become thinner and more nervous. I am anxious about him -and glad he is taking this trip abroad which the doctors recommended -long ago. I hope it will cure him. You write that in Petersburg he -is spoken of as one of the most active, cultivated, and capable of the -young men. Forgive my vanity as a relation, but I never doubted it. -The good he has done to everybody here, from his peasants up to the -gentry, is incalculable. On his arrival in Petersburg he received only -his due. I always wonder at the way rumors fly from Petersburg to -Moscow, especially such false ones as that you write about- I mean the -report of my brother's betrothal to the little Rostova. I do not think -my brother will ever marry again, and certainly not her; and this is -why: first, I know that though he rarely speaks about the wife he -has lost, the grief of that loss has gone too deep in his heart for -him ever to decide to give her a successor and our little angel a -stepmother. Secondly because, as far as I know, that girl is not the -kind of girl who could please Prince Andrew. I do not think he would -choose her for a wife, and frankly I do not wish it. But I am -running on too long and am at the end of my second sheet. Good-by, -my dear friend. May God keep you in His holy and mighty care. My -dear friend, Mademoiselle Bourienne, sends you kisses. - -MARY - -CHAPTER XXVI - -In the middle of the summer Princess Mary received an unexpected -letter from Prince Andrew in Switzerland in which he gave her -strange and surprising news. He informed her of his engagement to -Natasha Rostova. The whole letter breathed loving rapture for his -betrothed and tender and confiding affection for his sister. He -wrote that he had never loved as he did now and that only now did he -understand and know what life was. He asked his sister to forgive -him for not having told her of his resolve when he had last visited -Bald Hills, though he had spoken of it to his father. He had not -done so for fear Princess Mary should ask her father to give his -consent, irritating him and having to bear the brunt of his -displeasure without attaining her object. "Besides," he wrote, "the -matter was not then so definitely settled as it is now. My father then -insisted on a delay of a year and now already six months, half of that -period, have passed, and my resolution is firmer than ever. If the -doctors did not keep me here at the spas I should be back in Russia, -but as it is I have to postpone my return for three months. You know -me and my relations with Father. I want nothing from him. I have -been and always shall be independent; but to go against his will and -arouse his anger, now that he may perhaps remain with us such a -short time, would destroy half my happiness. I am now writing to him -about the same question, and beg you to choose a good moment to hand -him the letter and to let me know how he looks at the whole matter and -whether there is hope that he may consent to reduce the term by four -months." - -After long hesitations, doubts, and prayers, Princess Mary gave -the letter to her father. The next day the old prince said to her -quietly: - -"Write and tell your brother to wait till I am dead.... It won't -be long- I shall soon set him free." - -The princess was about to reply, but her father would not let her -speak and, raising his voice more and more, cried: - -"Marry, marry, my boy!... A good family!... Clever people, eh? Rich, -eh? Yes, a nice stepmother little Nicholas will have! Write and tell -him that he may marry tomorrow if he likes. She will be little -Nicholas' stepmother and I'll marry Bourienne!... Ha, ha, ha! He -mustn't be without a stepmother either! Only one thing, no more -women are wanted in my house- let him marry and live by himself. -Perhaps you will go and live with him too?" he added, turning to -Princess Mary. "Go in heavens name! Go out into the frost... the -frost... the frost! - -After this outburst the prince did not speak any more about the -matter. But repressed vexation at his son's poor-spirited behavior -found expression in his treatment of his daughter. To his former -pretexts for irony a fresh one was now added- allusions to stepmothers -and amiabilities to Mademoiselle Bourienne. - -"Why shouldn't I marry her?" he asked his daughter. "She'll make a -splendid princess!" - -And latterly, to her surprise and bewilderment, Princess Mary -noticed that her father was really associating more and more with -the Frenchwoman. She wrote to Prince Andrew about the reception of his -letter, but comforted him with hopes of reconciling their father to -the idea. - -Little Nicholas and his education, her brother Andrew, and -religion were Princess Mary's joys and consolations; but besides that, -since everyone must have personal hopes, Princess Mary in the -profoundest depths of her heart had a hidden dream and hope that -supplied the chief consolation of her life. This comforting dream -and hope were given her by God's folk- the half-witted and other -pilgrims who visited her without the prince's knowledge. The longer -she lived, the more experience and observation she had of life, the -greater was her wonder at the short-sightedness of men who seek -enjoyment and happiness here on earth: toiling, suffering, struggling, -and harming one another, to obtain that impossible, visionary, -sinful happiness. Prince Andrew had loved his wife, she died, but that -was not enough: he wanted to bind his happiness to another woman. -Her father objected to this because he wanted a more distinguished and -wealthier match for Andrew. And they all struggled and suffered and -tormented one another and injured their souls, their eternal souls, -for the attainment of benefits which endure but for an instant. Not -only do we know this ourselves, but Christ, the Son of God, came -down to earth and told us that this life is but for a moment and is -a probation; yet we cling to it and think to find happiness in it. -"How is it that no one realizes this?" thought Princess Mary. "No -one except these despised God's folk who, wallet on back, come to me -by the back door, afraid of being seen by the prince, not for fear -of ill-usage by him but for fear of causing him to sin. To leave -family, home, and all the cares of worldly welfare, in order without -clinging to anything to wander in hempen rags from place to place -under an assumed name, doing no one any harm but praying for all- -for those who drive one away as well as for those who protect one: -higher than that life and truth there is no life or truth!" - -There was one pilgrim, a quiet pockmarked little woman of fifty -called Theodosia, who for over thirty years had gone about barefoot -and worn heavy chains. Princess Mary was particularly fond of her. -Once, when in a room with a lamp dimly lit before the icon Theodosia -was talking of her life, the thought that Theodosia alone had found -the true path of life suddenly came to Princess Mary with such force -that she resolved to become a pilgrim herself. When Theodosia had gone -to sleep Princess Mary thought about this for a long time, and at last -made up her mind that, strange as it might seem, she must go on a -pilgrimage. She disclosed this thought to no one but to her confessor, -Father Akinfi, the monk, and he approved of her intention. Under guise -of a present for the pilgrims, Princess Mary prepared a pilgrim's -complete costume for herself: a coarse smock, bast shoes, a rough -coat, and a black kerchief. Often, approaching the chest of drawers -containing this secret treasure, Princess Mary paused, uncertain -whether the time had not already come to put her project into -execution. - -Often, listening to the pilgrims' tales, she was so stimulated by -their simple speech, mechanical to them but to her so full of deep -meaning, that several times she was on the point of abandoning -everything and running away from home. In imagination she already -pictured herself by Theodosia's side, dressed in coarse rags, -walking with a staff, a wallet on her back, along the dusty road, -directing her wanderings from one saint's shrine to another, free from -envy, earthly love, or desire, and reaching at last the place where -there is no more sorrow or sighing, but eternal joy and bliss. - -"I shall come to a place and pray there, and before having time to -get used to it or getting to love it, I shall go farther. I will go on -till my legs fail, and I'll lie down and die somewhere, and shall at -last reach that eternal, quiet haven, where there is neither sorrow -nor sighing..." thought Princess Mary. - -But afterwards, when she saw her father and especially little Koko -(Nicholas), her resolve weakened. She wept quietly, and felt that -she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God. - -BOOK SEVEN: 1810 - 11 - -CHAPTER I - -The Bible legend tells us that the absence of labor- idleness- was a -condition of the first man's blessedness before the Fall. Fallen man -has retained a love of idleness, but the curse weighs on the race -not only because we have to seek our bread in the sweat of our -brows, but because our moral nature is such that we cannot be both -idle and at ease. An inner voice tells us we are in the wrong if we -are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though -idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would have found one of the -conditions of man's primitive blessedness. And such a state of -obligatory and irreproachable idleness is the lot of a whole class- -the military. The chief attraction of military service has consisted -and will consist in this compulsory and irreproachable idleness. - -Nicholas Rostov experienced this blissful condition to the full -when, after 1807, he continued to serve in the Pavlograd regiment, -in which he already commanded the squadron he had taken over from -Denisov. - -Rostov had become a bluff, good-natured fellow, whom his Moscow -acquaintances would have considered rather bad form, but who was liked -and respected by his comrades, subordinates, and superiors, and was -well contented with his life. Of late, in 1809, he found in letters -from home more frequent complaints from his mother that their -affairs were falling into greater and greater disorder, and that it -was time for him to come back to gladden and comfort his old parents. - -Reading these letters, Nicholas felt a dread of their wanting to -take him away from surroundings in which, protected from all the -entanglements of life, he was living so calmly and quietly. He felt -that sooner or later he would have to re-enter that whirlpool of life, -with its embarrassments and affairs to be straightened out, its -accounts with stewards, quarrels, and intrigues, its ties, society, -and with Sonya's love and his promise to her. It was all dreadfully -difficult and complicated; and he replied to his mother in cold, -formal letters in French, beginning: "My dear Mamma," and ending: -"Your obedient son," which said nothing of when he would return. In -1810 he received letters from his parents, in which they told him of -Natasha's engagement to Bolkonski, and that the wedding would be in -a year's time because the old prince made difficulties. This letter -grieved and mortified Nicholas. In the first place he was sorry that -Natasha, for whom he cared more than for anyone else in the family, -should be lost to the home; and secondly, from his hussar point of -view, he regretted not to have been there to show that fellow -Bolkonski that connection with him was no such great honor after -all, and that if he loved Natasha he might dispense with permission -from his dotard father. For a moment he hesitated whether he should -not apply for leave in order to see Natasha before she was married, -but then came the maneuvers, and considerations about Sonya and -about the confusion of their affairs, and Nicholas again put it off. -But in the spring of that year, he received a letter from his -mother, written without his father's knowledge, and that letter -persuaded him to return. She wrote that if he did not come and take -matters in hand, their whole property would be sold by auction and -they would all have to go begging. The count was so weak, and -trusted Mitenka so much, and was so good-natured, that everybody -took advantage of him and things were going from bad to worse. "For -God's sake, I implore you, come at once if you do not wish to make -me and the whole family wretched," wrote the countess. - -This letter touched Nicholas. He had that common sense of a -matter-of-fact man which showed him what he ought to do. - -The right thing now was, if not to retire from the service, at any -rate to go home on leave. Why he had to go he did not know; but -after his after-dinner nap he gave orders to saddle Mars, an extremely -vicious gray stallion that had not been ridden for a long time, and -when he returned with the horse all in a lather, he informed Lavrushka -(Denisov's servant who had remained with him) and his comrades who -turned up in the evening that he was applying for leave and was -going home. Difficult and strange as it was for him to reflect that he -would go away without having heard from the staff- and this interested -him extremely- whether he was promoted to a captaincy or would receive -the Order of St. Anne for the last maneuvers; strange as it was to -think that he would go away without having sold his three roans to the -Polish Count Golukhovski, who was bargaining for the horses Rostov had -betted he would sell for two thousand rubles; incomprehensible as it -seemed that the ball the hussars were giving in honor of the Polish -Mademoiselle Przazdziecka (out of rivalry to the Uhlans who had -given one in honor of their Polish Mademoiselle Borzozowska) would -take place without him- he knew he must go away from this good, bright -world to somewhere where everything was stupid and confused. A week -later he obtained his leave. His hussar comrades- not only those of -his own regiment, but the whole brigade- gave Rostov a dinner to which -the subscription was fifteen rubles a head, and at which there were -two bands and two choirs of singers. Rostov danced the Trepak with -Major Basov; the tipsy officers tossed, embraced, and dropped -Rostov; the soldiers of the third squadron tossed him too, and shouted -"hurrah!" and then they put him in his sleigh and escorted him as -far as the first post station. - -During the first half of the journey- from Kremenchug to Kiev- all -Rostov's thoughts, as is usual in such cases, were behind him, with -the squadron; but when he had gone more than halfway he began to -forget his three roans and Dozhoyveyko, his quartermaster, and to -wonder anxiously how things would be at Otradnoe and what he would -find there. Thoughts of home grew stronger the nearer he approached -it- far stronger, as though this feeling of his was subject to the law -by which the force of attraction is in inverse proportion to the -square of the distance. At the last post station before Otradnoe he -gave the driver a three-ruble tip, and on arriving he ran -breathlessly, like a boy, up the steps of his home. - -After the rapture of meeting, and after that odd feeling of -unsatisfied expectation- the feeling that "everything is just the -same, so why did I hurry?"- Nicholas began to settle down in his old -home world. His father and mother were much the same, only a little -older. What was new in them was a certain uneasiness and occasional -discord, which there used not to be, and which, as Nicholas soon found -out, was due to the bad state of their affairs. Sonya was nearly -twenty; she had stopped growing prettier and promised nothing more -than she was already, but that was enough. She exhaled happiness and -love from the time Nicholas returned, and the faithful, unalterable -love of this girl had a gladdening effect on him. Petya and Natasha -surprised Nicholas most. Petya was a big handsome boy of thirteen, -merry, witty, and mischievous, with a voice that was already breaking. -As for Natasha, for a long while Nicholas wondered and laughed -whenever he looked at her. - -"You're not the same at all," he said. - -"How? Am I uglier?" - -"On the contrary, but what dignity? A princess!" he whispered to -her. - -"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Natasha, joyfully. - -She told him about her romance with Prince Andrew and of his visit -to Otradnoe and showed him his last letter. - -"Well, are you glad?" Natasha asked. "I am so tranquil and happy -now." - -"Very glad," answered Nicholas. "He is an excellent fellow.... And -are you very much in love?" - -"How shall I put it?" replied Natasha. "I was in love with Boris, -with my teacher, and with Denisov, but this is quite different. I feel -at peace and settled. I know that no better man than he exists, and -I am calm and contented now. Not at all as before." - -Nicholas expressed his disapproval of the postponement of the -marriage for a year; but Natasha attacked her brother with -exasperation, proving to him that it could not be otherwise, and -that it would be a bad thing to enter a family against the father's -will, and that she herself wished it so. - -"You don't at all understand," she said. - -Nicholas was silent and agreed with her. - -Her brother often wondered as he looked at her. She did not seem -at all like a girl in love and parted from her affianced husband. -She was even-tempered and calm and quite as cheerful as of old. This -amazed Nicholas and even made him regard Bolkonski's courtship -skeptically. He could not believe that her fate was sealed, especially -as he had not seen her with Prince Andrew. It always seemed to him -that there was something not quite right about this intended marriage. - -"Why this delay? Why no betrothal?" he thought. Once, when he had -touched on this topic with his mother, he discovered, to his -surprise and somewhat to his satisfaction, that in the depth of her -soul she too had doubts about this marriage. - -"You see he writes," said she, showing her son a letter of Prince -Andrew's, with that latent grudge a mother always has in regard to a -daughter's future married happiness, "he writes that he won't come -before December. What can be keeping him? Illness, probably! His -health is very delicate. Don't tell Natasha. And don't attach -importance to her being so bright: that's because she's living through -the last days of her girlhood, but I know what she is like every -time we receive a letter from him! However, God grant that -everything turns out well!" (She always ended with these words.) "He -is an excellent man!" - -CHAPTER II - -After reaching home Nicholas was at first serious and even dull. -He was worried by the impending necessity of interfering in the stupid -business matters for which his mother had called him home. To throw -off this burden as quickly as possible, on the third day after his -arrival he went, angry and scowling and without answering questions as -to where he was going, to Mitenka's lodge and demanded an account of -everything. But what an account of everything might be Nicholas knew -even less than the frightened and bewildered Mitenka. The conversation -and the examination of the accounts with Mitenka did not last long. -The village elder, a peasant delegate, and the village clerk, who were -waiting in the passage, heard with fear and delight first the young -count's voice roaring and snapping and rising louder and louder, and -then words of abuse, dreadful words, ejaculated one after the other. - -"Robber!... Ungrateful wretch!... I'll hack the dog to pieces! I'm -not my father!... Robbing us!..." and so on. - -Then with no less fear and delight they saw how the young count, red -in the face and with bloodshot eyes, dragged Mitenka out by the scruff -of the neck and applied his foot and knee to him behind with great -agility at convenient moments between the words, shouting, "Be off! -Never let me see your face here again, you villain!" - -Mitenka flew headlong down the six steps and ran away into the -shrubbery. (This shrubbery was a well-known haven of refuge for -culprits at Otradnoe. Mitenka himself, returning tipsy from the -town, used to hide there, and many of the residents at Otradnoe, -hiding from Mitenka, knew of its protective qualities.) - -Mitenka's wife and sisters-in-law thrust their heads and -frightened faces out of the door of a room where a bright samovar -was boiling and where the steward's high bedstead stood with its -patchwork quilt. - -The young count paid no heed to them, but, breathing hard, passed by -with resolute strides and went into the house. - -The countess, who heard at once from the maids what had happened -at the lodge, was calmed by the thought that now their affairs would -certainly improve, but on the other hand felt anxious as to the effect -this excitement might have on her son. She went several times to his -door on tiptoe and listened, as he lighted one pipe after another. - -Next day the old count called his son aside and, with an embarrassed -smile, said to him: - -"But you know, my dear boy, it's a pity you got excited! Mitenka has -told me all about it." - -"I knew," thought Nicholas, "that I should never understand anything -in this crazy world." - -"You were angry that he had not entered those 700 rubles. But they -were carried forward- and you did not look at the other page." - -"Papa, he is a blackguard and a thief! I know he is! And what I have -done, I have done; but, if you like, I won't speak to him again." - -"No, my dear boy" (the count, too, felt embarrassed. He knew he -had mismanaged his wife's property and was to blame toward his -children, but he did not know how to remedy it). "No, I beg you to -attend to the business. I am old. I..." - -"No, Papa. Forgive me if I have caused you unpleasantness. I -understand it all less than you do." - -"Devil take all these peasants, and money matters, and carryings -forward from page to page," he thought. "I used to understand what a -'corner' and the stakes at cards meant, but carrying forward to -another page I don't understand at all," said he to himself, and after -that he did not meddle in business affairs. But once the countess -called her son and informed him that she had a promissory note from -Anna Mikhaylovna for two thousand rubles, and asked him what he -thought of doing with it. - -"This," answered Nicholas. "You say it rests with me. Well, I -don't like Anna Mikhaylovna and I don't like Boris, but they were -our friends and poor. Well then, this!" and he tore up the note, and -by so doing caused the old countess to weep tears of joy. After -that, young Rostov took no further part in any business affairs, but -devoted himself with passionate enthusiasm to what was to him a new -pursuit- the chase- for which his father kept a large establishment. - -CHAPTER III - -The weather was already growing wintry and morning frosts -congealed an earth saturated by autumn rains. The verdure had -thickened and its bright green stood out sharply against the -brownish strips of winter rye trodden down by the cattle, and -against the pale-yellow stubble of the spring buckwheat. The wooded -ravines and the copses, which at the end of August had still been -green islands amid black fields and stubble, had become golden and -bright-red islands amid the green winter rye. The hares had already -half changed their summer coats, the fox cubs were beginning to -scatter, and the young wolves were bigger than dogs. It was the best -time of the year for the chase. The hounds of that ardent young -sportsman Rostov had not merely reached hard winter condition, but -were so jaded that at a meeting of the huntsmen it was decided to give -them a three days' rest and then, on the sixteenth of September, to go -on a distant expedition, starting from the oak grove where there was -an undisturbed litter of wolf cubs. - -All that day the hounds remained at home. It was frosty and the -air was sharp, but toward evening the sky became overcast and it began -to thaw. On the fifteenth, when young Rostov, in his dressing gown, -looked out of the window, he saw it was an unsurpassable morning for -hunting: it was as if the sky were melting and sinking to the earth -without any wind. The only motion in the air was that of the dripping, -microscopic particles of drizzling mist. The bare twigs in the -garden were hung with transparent drops which fell on the freshly -fallen leaves. The earth in the kitchen garden looked wet and black -and glistened like poppy seed and at a short distance merged into -the dull, moist veil of mist. Nicholas went out into the wet and muddy -porch. There was a smell of decaying leaves and of dog. Milka, a -black-spotted, broad-haunched bitch with prominent black eyes, got -up on seeing her master, stretched her hind legs, lay down like a -hare, and then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on his nose and -mustache. Another borzoi, a dog, catching sight of his master from the -garden path, arched his back and, rushing headlong toward the porch -with lifted tail, began rubbing himself against his legs. - -"O-hoy!" came at that moment, that inimitable huntsman's call -which unites the deepest bass with the shrillest tenor, and round -the corner came Daniel the head huntsman and head kennelman, a gray, -wrinkled old man with hair cut straight over his forehead, Ukrainian -fashion, a long bent whip in his hand, and that look of independence -and scorn of everything that is only seen in huntsmen. He doffed his -Circassian cap to his master and looked at him scornfully. This -scorn was not offensive to his master. Nicholas knew that this Daniel, -disdainful of everybody and who considered himself above them, was all -the same his serf and huntsman. - -"Daniel!" Nicholas said timidly, conscious at the sight of the -weather, the hounds, and the huntsman that he was being carried away -by that irresistible passion for sport which makes a man forget all -his previous resolutions, as a lover forgets in the presence of his -mistress. - -"What orders, your excellency?" said the huntsman in his deep -bass, deep as a proto-deacon's and hoarse with hallooing- and two -flashing black eyes gazed from under his brows at his master, who -was silent. "Can you resist it?" those eyes seemed to be asking. - -"It's a good day, eh? For a hunt and a gallop, eh?" asked -Nicholas, scratching Milka behind the ears. - -Daniel did not answer, but winked instead. - -"I sent Uvarka at dawn to listen," his bass boomed out after a -minute's pause. "He says she's moved them into the Otradnoe enclosure. -They were howling there." (This meant that the she-wolf, about whom -they both knew, had moved with her cubs to the Otradnoe copse, a small -place a mile and a half from the house.) - -"We ought to go, don't you think so?" said Nicholas. "Come to me -with Uvarka." - -"As you please." - -"Then put off feeding them." - -"Yes, sir." - -Five minutes later Daniel and Uvarka were standing in Nicholas' -big study. Though Daniel was not a big man, to see him in a room was -like seeing a horse or a bear on the floor among the furniture and -surroundings of human life. Daniel himself felt this, and as usual -stood just inside the door, trying to speak softly and not move, for -fear of breaking something in the master's apartment, and he -hastened to say all that was necessary so as to get from under that -ceiling, out into the open under the sky once more. - -Having finished his inquiries and extorted from Daniel an opinion -that the hounds were fit (Daniel himself wished to go hunting), -Nicholas ordered the horses to be saddled. But just as Daniel was -about to go Natasha came in with rapid steps, not having done up her -hair or finished dressing and with her old nurse's big shawl wrapped -round her. Petya ran in at the same time. - -"You are going?" asked Natasha. "I knew you would! Sonya said you -wouldn't go, but I knew that today is the sort of day when you -couldn't help going." - -"Yes, we are going," replied Nicholas reluctantly, for today, as -he intended to hunt seriously, he did not want to take Natasha and -Petya. "We are going, but only wolf hunting: it would be dull for -you." - -"You know it is my greatest pleasure," said Natasha. "It's not fair; -you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said -nothing to us about it." - -"'No barrier bars a Russian's path'- we'll go!" shouted Petya. - -"But you can't. Mamma said you mustn't," said Nicholas to Natasha. - -"Yes, I'll go. I shall certainly go," said Natasha decisively. -"Daniel, tell them to saddle for us, and Michael must come with my -dogs," she added to the huntsman. - -It seemed to Daniel irksome and improper to be in a room at all, but -to have anything to do with a young lady seemed to him impossible. -He cast down his eyes and hurried out as if it were none of his -business, careful as he went not to inflict any accidental injury on -the young lady. - -CHAPTER IV - -The old count, who had always kept up an enormous hunting -establishment but had now handed it all completely over to his son's -care, being in very good spirits on this fifteenth of September, -prepared to go out with the others. - -In an hour's time the whole hunting party was at the porch. -Nicholas, with a stern and serious air which showed that now was no -time for attending to trifles, went past Natasha and Petya who were -trying to tell him something. He had a look at all the details of -the hunt, sent a pack of hounds and huntsmen on ahead to find the -quarry, mounted his chestnut Donets, and whistling to his own leash of -borzois, set off across the threshing ground to a field leading to the -Otradnoe wood. The old count's horse, a sorrel gelding called -Viflyanka, was led by the groom in attendance on him, while the -count himself was to drive in a small trap straight to a spot reserved -for him. - -They were taking fifty-four hounds, with six hunt attendants and -whippers-in. Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen and -more than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leash -belonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred and -thirty dogs and twenty horsemen. - -Each dog knew its master and its call. Each man in the hunt knew his -business. his place, what he had to do. As soon as they had passed the -fence they all spread out evenly and quietly, without noise or talk, -along the road and field leading to the Otradnoe covert. - -The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now and -then splashing into puddles as they crossed a road. The misty sky -still seemed to descend evenly and imperceptibly toward the earth, the -air was still, warm, and silent. Occasionally the whistle of a -huntsman, the snort of a horse, the crack of a whip, or the whine of a -straggling hound could be heard. - -When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riders -with dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostovs. In -front rode a fresh-looking, handsome old man with a large gray -mustache. - -"Good morning, Uncle!" said Nicholas, when the old man drew near. - -"That's it. Come on!... I was sure of it," began "Uncle." (He was -a distant relative of the Rostovs', a man of small means, and their -neighbor.) "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a good -thing you're going. That's it! Come on! (This was "Uncle's" favorite -expression.) "Take the covert at once, for my Girchik says the Ilagins -are at Korniki with their hounds. That's it. Come on!... They'll -take the cubs from under your very nose." - -"That's where I'm going. Shall we join up our packs?" asked -Nicholas. - -The hounds were joined into one pack, and "Uncle" and Nicholas -rode on side by side. Natasha, muffled up in shawls which did not hide -her eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them. She was followed -by Petya who always kept close to her, by Michael, a huntsman, and -by a groom appointed to look after her. Petya, who was laughing, -whipped and pulled at his horse. Natasha sat easily and confidently on -her black Arabchik and reined him in without effort with a firm hand. - -"Uncle" looked round disapprovingly at Petya and Natasha. He did not -like to combine frivolity with the serious business of hunting. - -"Good morning, Uncle! We are going too!" shouted Petya. - -"Good morning, good morning! But don't go overriding the hounds," -said "Uncle" sternly. - -"Nicholas, what a fine dog Trunila is! He knew me," said Natasha, -referring to her favorite hound. - -"In the first place, Trunila is not a 'dog,' but a harrier," thought -Nicholas, and looked sternly at his sister, trying to make her feel -the distance that ought to separate them at that moment. Natasha -understood it. - -"You mustn't think we'll be in anyone's way, Uncle," she said. -"We'll go to our places and won't budge." - -"A good thing too, little countess," said "Uncle," "only mind you -don't fall off your horse," he added, "because- that's it, come on!- -you've nothing to hold on to." - -The oasis of the Otradnoe covert came in sight a few hundred yards -off, the huntsmen were already nearing it. Rostov, having finally -settled with "Uncle" where they should set on the hounds, and having -shown Natasha where she was to stand- a spot where nothing could -possibly run out- went round above the ravine. - -"Well, nephew, you're going for a big wolf," said "Uncle." "Mind and -don't let her slip!" - -"That's as may happen," answered Rostov. "Karay, here!" he -shouted, answering "Uncle's" remark by this call to his borzoi. -Karay was a shaggy old dog with a hanging jowl, famous for having -tackled a big wolf unaided. They all took up their places. - -The old count, knowing his son's ardor in the hunt, hurried so as -not to be late, and the hunstmen had not yet reached their places when -Count Ilya Rostov, cheerful, flushed, and with quivering cheeks, drove -up with his black horses over the winter rye to the place reserved for -him, where a wolf might come out. Having straightened his coat and -fastened on his hunting knives and horn, he mounted his good, sleek, -well-fed, and comfortable horse, Viflyanka, which was turning gray, -like himself. His horses and trap were sent home. Count Ilya Rostov, -though not at heart a keen sportsman, knew the rules of the hunt well, -and rode to the bushy edge of the road where he was to stand, arranged -his reins, settled himself in the saddle, and, feeling that he was -ready, looked about with a smile. - -Beside him was Simon Chekmar, his personal attendant, an old -horseman now somewhat stiff in the saddle. Chekmar held in leash three -formidable wolfhounds, who had, however, grown fat like their master -and his horse. Two wise old dogs lay down unleashed. Some hundred -paces farther along the edge of the wood stood Mitka, the count's -other groom, a daring horseman and keen rider to hounds. Before the -hunt, by old custom, the count had drunk a silver cupful of mulled -brandy, taken a snack, and washed it down with half a bottle of his -favorite Bordeaux. - -He was somewhat flushed with the wine and the drive. His eyes were -rather moist and glittered more than usual, and as he sat in his -saddle, wrapped up in his fur coat, he looked like a child taken out -for an outing. - -The thin, hollow-cheeked Chekmar, having got everything ready, -kept glancing at his master with whom he had lived on the best of -terms for thirty years, and understanding the mood he was in -expected a pleasant chat. A third person rode up circumspectly through -the wood (it was plain that he had had a lesson) and stopped behind -the count. This person was a gray-bearded old man in a woman's -cloak, with a tall peaked cap on his head. He was the buffoon, who -went by a woman's name, Nastasya Ivanovna. - -"Well, Nastasya Ivanovna!" whispered the count, winking at him. -"If you scare away the beast, Daniel'll give it you!" - -"I know a thing or two myself!" said Nastasya Ivanovna. - -"Hush!" whispered the count and turned to Simon. "Have you seen -the young countess?" he asked. "Where is she?" - -"With young Count Peter, by the Zharov rank grass," answered -Simon, smiling. "Though she's a lady, she's very fond of hunting." - -"And you're surprised at the way she rides, Simon, eh?" said the -count. "She's as good as many a man!" - -"Of course! It's marvelous. So bold, so easy!" - -"And Nicholas? Where is he? By the Lyadov upland, isn't he?" - -"Yes, sir. He knows where to stand. He understands the matter so -well that Daniel and I are often quite astounded," said Simon, well -knowing what would please his master. - -"Rides well, eh? And how well he looks on his horse, eh?" - -"A perfect picture! How he chased a fox out of the rank grass by the -Zavarzinsk thicket the other day! Leaped a fearful place; what a sight -when they rushed from the covert... the horse worth a thousand -rubles and the rider beyond all price! Yes, one would have to search -far to find another as smart." - -"To search far..." repeated the count, evidently sorry Simon had not -said more. "To search far," he said, turning back the skirt of his -coat to get at his snuffbox. - -"The other day when he came out from Mass in full uniform, Michael -Sidorych..." Simon did not finish, for on the still air he had -distinctly caught the music of the hunt with only two or three -hounds giving tongue. He bent down his head and listened, shaking a -warning finger at his master. "They are on the scent of the cubs... -" he whispered, "straight to the Lyadov uplands." - -The count, forgetting to smooth out the smile on his face, looked -into the distance straight before him, down the narrow open space, -holding the snuffbox in his hand but not taking any. After the cry -of the hounds came the deep tones of the wolf call from Daniel's -hunting horn; the pack joined the first three hounds and they could be -heard in full cry, with that peculiar lift in the note that -indicates that they are after a wolf. The whippers-in no longer set on -the hounds, but changed to the cry of ulyulyu, and above the others -rose Daniel's voice, now a deep bass, now piercingly shrill. His voice -seemed to fill the whole wood and carried far beyond out into the open -field. - -After listening a few moments in silence, the count and his -attendant convinced themselves that the hounds had separated into -two packs: the sound of the larger pack, eagerly giving tongue, -began to die away in the distance, the other pack rushed by the wood -past the count, and it was with this that Daniel's voice was heard -calling ulyulyu. The sounds of both packs mingled and broke apart -again, but both were becoming more distant. - -Simon sighed and stooped to straighten the leash a young borzoi -had entangled; the count too sighed and, noticing the snuffbox in -his hand, opened it and took a pinch. "Back!" cried Simon to a -borzoi that was pushing forward out of the wood. The count started and -dropped the snuffbox. Nastasya Ivanovna dismounted to pick it up. -The count and Simon were looking at him. - -Then, unexpectedly, as often happens, the sound of the hunt suddenly -approached, as if the hounds in full cry and Daniel ulyulyuing were -just in front of them. - -The count turned and saw on his right Mitka staring at him with eyes -starting out of his head, raising his cap and pointing before him to -the other side. - -"Look out!" he shouted, in a voice plainly showing that he had -long fretted to utter that word, and letting the borzois slip he -galloped toward the count. - -The count and Simon galloped out of the wood and saw on their left a -wolf which, softly swaying from side to side, was coming at a quiet -lope farther to the left to the very place where they were standing. -The angry borzois whined and getting free of the leash rushed past the -horses' feet at the wolf. - -The wolf paused, turned its heavy forehead toward the dogs -awkwardly, like a man suffering from the quinsy, and, still slightly -swaying from side to side, gave a couple of leaps and with a swish -of its tail disappeared into the skirt of the wood. At the same -instant, with a cry like a wail, first one hound, then another, and -then another, sprang helter-skelter from the wood opposite and the -whole pack rushed across the field toward the very spot where the wolf -had disappeared. The hazel bushes parted behind the hounds and -Daniel's chestnut horse appeared, dark with sweat. On its long back -sat Daniel, hunched forward, capless, his disheveled gray hair hanging -over his flushed, perspiring face. - -"Ulyulyulyu! ulyulyu!..." he cried. When he caught sight of the -count his eyes flashed lightning. - -"Blast you!" he shouted, holding up his whip threateningly at the -count. - -"You've let the wolf go!... What sportsmen! and as if scorning to -say more to the frightened and shamefaced count, he lashed the heaving -flanks of his sweating chestnut gelding with all the anger the count -had aroused and flew off after the hounds. The count, like a -punished schoolboy, looked round, trying by a smile to win Simon's -sympathy for his plight. But Simon was no longer there. He was -galloping round by the bushes while the field was coming up on both -sides, all trying to head the wolf, but it vanished into the wood -before they could do so. - -CHAPTER V - -Nicholas Rostov meanwhile remained at his post, waiting for the -wolf. By the way the hunt approached and receded, by the cries of -the dogs whose notes were familiar to him, by the way the voices of -the huntsmen approached, receded, and rose, he realized what was -happening at the copse. He knew that young and old wolves were -there, that the hounds had separated into two packs, that somewhere -a wolf was being chased, and that something had gone wrong. He -expected the wolf to come his way any moment. He made thousands of -different conjectures as to where and from what side the beast would -come and how he would set upon it. Hope alternated with despair. -Several times he addressed a prayer to God that the wolf should come -his way. He prayed with that passionate and shame-faced feeling with -which men pray at moments of great excitement arising from trivial -causes. "What would it be to Thee to do this for me?" he said to -God. "I know Thou art great, and that it is a sin to ask this of Thee, -but for God's sake do let the old wolf come my way and let Karay -spring at it- in sight of 'Uncle' who is watching from over there- and -seize it by the throat in a death grip!" A thousand times during -that half-hour Rostov cast eager and restless glances over the edge of -the wood, with the two scraggy oaks rising above the aspen undergrowth -and the gully with its water-worn side and "Uncle's" cap just -visible above the bush on his right. - -"No, I shan't have such luck," thought Rostov, "yet what wouldn't it -be worth! It is not to be! Everywhere, at cards and in war, I am -always unlucky." Memories of Austerlitz and of Dolokhov flashed -rapidly and clearly through his mind. "Only once in my life to get -an old wolf, I want only that!" thought he, straining eyes and ears -and looking to the left and then to the right and listening to the -slightest variation of note in the cries of the dogs. - -Again he looked to the right and saw something running toward him -across the deserted field. "No, it can't be!" thought Rostov, taking a -deep breath, as a man does at the coming of something long hoped -for. The height of happiness was reached- and so simply, without -warning, or noise, or display, that Rostov could not believe his -eyes and remained in doubt for over a second. The wolf ran forward and -jumped heavily over a gully that lay in her path. She was an old -animal with a gray back and big reddish belly. She ran without -hurry, evidently feeling sure that no one saw her. Rostov, holding his -breath, looked round at the borzois. They stood or lay not seeing -the wolf or understanding the situation. Old Karay had turned his head -and was angrily searching for fleas, baring his yellow teeth and -snapping at his hind legs. - -"Ulyulyulyu!" whispered Rostov, pouting his lips. The borzois jumped -up, jerking the rings of the leashes and pricking their ears. Karay -finished scratching his hindquarters and, cocking his ears, got up -with quivering tail from which tufts of matted hair hung down. - -"Shall I loose them or not?" Nicholas asked himself as the wolf -approached him coming from the copse. Suddenly the wolf's whole -physiognomy changed: she shuddered, seeing what she had probably never -seen before- human eyes fixed upon her- and turning her head a -little toward Rostov, she paused. - -"Back or forward? Eh, no matter, forward..." the wolf seemed to -say to herself, and she moved forward without again looking round -and with a quiet, long, easy yet resolute lope. - -"Ulyulyu!" cried Nicholas, in a voice not his own, and of its own -accord his good horse darted headlong downhill, leaping over gullies -to head off the wolf, and the borzois passed it, running faster still. -Nicholas did not hear his own cry nor feel that he was galloping, -nor see the borzois, nor the ground over which he went: he saw only -the wolf, who, increasing her speed, bounded on in the same -direction along the hollow. The first to come into view was Milka, -with her black markings and powerful quarters, gaining upon the -wolf. Nearer and nearer... now she was ahead of it; but the wolf -turned its head to face her, and instead of putting on speed as she -usually did Milka suddenly raised her tail and stiffened her forelegs. - -"Ulyulyulyulyu!" shouted Nicholas. - -The reddish Lyubim rushed forward from behind Milka, sprang -impetuously at the wolf, and seized it by its hindquarters, but -immediately jumped aside in terror. The wolf crouched, gnashed her -teeth, and again rose and bounded forward, followed at the distance of -a couple of feet by all the borzois, who did not get any closer to -her. - -"She'll get away! No, it's impossible!" thought Nicholas, still -shouting with a hoarse voice. - -"Karay, ulyulyu!..." he shouted, looking round for the old borzoi -who was now his only hope. Karay, with all the strength age had left -him, stretched himself to the utmost and, watching the wolf, -galloped heavily aside to intercept it. But the quickness of the -wolf's lope and the borzoi's slower pace made it plain that Karay -had miscalculated. Nicholas could already see not far in front of -him the wood where the wolf would certainly escape should she reach -it. But, coming toward him, he saw hounds and a huntsman galloping -almost straight at the wolf. There was still hope. A long, yellowish -young borzoi, one Nicholas did not know, from another leash, rushed -impetuously at the wolf from in front and almost knocked her over. But -the wolf jumped up more quickly than anyone could have expected and, -gnashing her teeth, flew at the yellowish borzoi, which, with a -piercing yelp, fell with its head on the ground, bleeding from a -gash in its side. - -"Karay? Old fellow!..." wailed Nicholas. - -Thanks to the delay caused by this crossing of the wolf's path, -the old dog with its felted hair hanging from its thigh was within -five paces of it. As if aware of her danger, the wolf turned her -eyes on Karay, tucked her tail yet further between her legs, and -increased her speed. But here Nicholas only saw that something -happened to Karay- the borzoi was suddenly on the wolf, and they -rolled together down into a gully just in front of them. - -That instant, when Nicholas saw the wolf struggling in the gully -with the dogs, while from under them could be seen her gray hair and -outstretched hind leg and her frightened choking head, with her ears -laid back (Karay was pinning her by the throat), was the happiest -moment of his life. With his hand on his saddlebow, he was ready to -dismount and stab the wolf, when she suddenly thrust her head up -from among that mass of dogs, and then her forepaws were on the edge -of the gully. She clicked her teeth (Karay no longer had her by the -throat), leaped with a movement of her hind legs out of the gully, and -having disengaged herself from the dogs, with tail tucked in again, -went forward. Karay, his hair bristling, and probably bruised or -wounded, climbed with difficulty out of the gully. - -"Oh my God! Why?" Nicholas cried in despair. - -"Uncle's" huntsman was galloping from the other side across the -wolf's path and his borzois once more stopped the animal's advance. -She was again hemmed in. - -Nicholas and his attendant, with "Uncle" and his huntsman, were -all riding round the wolf, crying "ulyulyu!" shouting and preparing to -dismount each moment that the wolf crouched back, and starting forward -again every time she shook herself and moved toward the wood where she -would be safe. - -Already, at the beginning of this chase, Daniel, hearing the -ulyulyuing, had rushed out from the wood. He saw Karay seize the wolf, -and checked his horse, supposing the affair to be over. But when he -saw that the horsemen did not dismount and that the wolf shook herself -and ran for safety, Daniel set his chestnut galloping, not at the wolf -but straight toward the wood, just as Karay had run to cut the -animal off. As a result of this, he galloped up to the wolf just -when she had been stopped a second time by "Uncle's" borzois. - -Daniel galloped up silently, holding a naked dagger in his left hand -and thrashing the laboring sides of his chestnut horse with his whip -as if it were a flail. - -Nicholas neither saw nor heard Daniel until the chestnut, -breathing heavily, panted past him, and he heard the fall of a body -and saw Daniel lying on the wolf's back among the dogs, trying to -seize her by the ears. It was evident to the dogs, the hunters, and to -the wolf herself that all was now over. The terrified wolf pressed -back her ears and tried to rise, but the borzois stuck to her. -Daniel rose a little, took a step, and with his whole weight, as if -lying down to rest, fell on the wolf, seizing her by the ears. -Nicholas was about to stab her, but Daniel whispered, "Don't! We'll -gag her!" and, changing his position, set his foot on the wolf's neck. -A stick was thrust between her jaws and she was fastened with a leash, -as if bridled, her legs were bound together, and Daniel rolled her -over once or twice from side to side. - -With happy, exhausted faces, they laid the old wolf, alive, on a -shying and snorting horse and, accompanied by the dogs yelping at her, -took her to the place where they were all to meet. The hounds had -killed two of the cubs and the borzois three. The huntsmen assembled -with their booty and their stories, and all came to look at the -wolf, which, with her broad-browed head hanging down and the bitten -stick between her jaws, gazed with great glassy eyes at this crowd -of dogs and men surrounding her. When she was touched, she jerked -her bound legs and looked wildly yet simply at everybody. Old Count -Rostov also rode up and touched the wolf. - -"Oh, what a formidable one!" said he. "A formidable one, eh?" he -asked Daniel, who was standing near. - -"Yes, your excellency," answered Daniel, quickly doffing his cap. - -The count remembered the wolf he had let slip and his encounter with -Daniel. - -"Ah, but you are a crusty fellow, friend!" said the count. - -For sole reply Daniel gave him a shy, childlike, meek, and amiable -smile. - -CHAPTER VI - -The old count went home, and Natasha and Petya promised to return -very soon, but as it was still early the hunt went farther. At -midday they put the hounds into a ravine thickly overgrown with -young trees. Nicholas standing in a fallow field could see all his -whips. - -Facing him lay a field of winter rye, there his own huntsman stood -alone in a hollow behind a hazel bush. The hounds had scarcely been -loosed before Nicholas heard one he knew, Voltorn, giving tongue at -intervals; other hounds joined in, now pausing and now again giving -tongue. A moment later he heard a cry from the wooded ravine that a -fox had been found, and the whole pack, joining together, rushed along -the ravine toward the ryefield and away from Nicholas. - -He saw the whips in their red caps galloping along the edge of the -ravine, he even saw the hounds, and was expecting a fox to show itself -at any moment on the ryefield opposite. - -The huntsman standing in the hollow moved and loosed his borzois, -and Nicholas saw a queer, short-legged red fox with a fine brush going -hard across the field. The borzois bore down on it.... Now they drew -close to the fox which began to dodge between the field in sharper and -sharper curves, trailing its brush, when suddenly a strange white -borzoi dashed in followed by a black one, and everything was in -confusion; the borzois formed a star-shaped figure, scarcely swaying -their bodies and with tails turned away from the center of the -group. Two huntsmen galloped up to the dogs; one in a red cap, the -other, a stranger, in a green coat. - -"What's this?" thought Nicholas. "Where's that huntsman from? He -is not 'Uncle's' man." - -The huntsmen got the fox, but stayed there a long time without -strapping it to the saddle. Their horses, bridled and with high -saddles, stood near them and there too the dogs were lying. The -huntsmen waved their arms and did something to the fox. Then from that -spot came the sound of a horn, with the signal agreed on in case of -a fight. - -"That's Ilagin's huntsman having a row with our Ivan," said -Nicholas' groom. - -Nicholas sent the man to call Natasha and Petya to him, and rode -at a footpace to the place where the whips were getting the hounds -together. Several of the field galloped to the spot where the fight -was going on. - -Nicholas dismounted, and with Natasha and Petya, who had ridden -up, stopped near the hounds, waiting to see how the matter would -end. Out of the bushes came the huntsman who had been fighting and -rode toward his young master, with the fox tied to his crupper. -While still at a distance he took off his cap and tried to speak -respectfully, but he was pale and breathless and his face was angry. -One of his eyes was black, but he probably was not even aware of it. - -"What has happened?" asked Nicholas. - -"A likely thing, killing a fox our dogs had hunted! And it was my -gray bitch that caught it! Go to law, indeed!... He snatches at the -fox! I gave him one with the fox. Here it is on my saddle! Do you want -a taste of this?..." said the huntsman, pointing to his dagger and -probably imagining himself still speaking to his foe. - -Nicholas, not stopping to talk to the man, asked his sister and -Petya to wait for him and rode to the spot where the enemy's, -Ilagin's, hunting party was. - -The victorious huntsman rode off to join the field, and there, -surrounded by inquiring sympathizers, recounted his exploits. - -The facts were that Ilagin, with whom the Rostovs had a quarrel -and were at law, hunted over places that belonged by custom to the -Rostovs, and had now, as if purposely, sent his men to the very -woods the Rostovs were hunting and let his man snatch a fox their dogs -had chased. - -Nicholas, though he had never seen Ilagin, with his usual absence of -moderation in judgment, hated him cordially from reports of his -arbitrariness and violence, and regarded him as his bitterest foe. -He rode in angry agitation toward him, firmly grasping his whip and -fully prepared to take the most resolute and desperate steps to punish -his enemy. - -Hardly had he passed an angle of the wood before a stout gentleman -in a beaver cap came riding toward him on a handsome raven-black -horse, accompanied by two hunt servants. - -Instead of an enemy, Nicholas found in Ilagin a stately and -courteous gentleman who was particularly anxious to make the young -count's acquaintance. Having ridden up to Nicholas, Ilagin raised -his beaver cap and said he much regretted what had occurred and -would have the man punished who had allowed himself to seize a fox -hunted by someone else's borzois. He hoped to become better acquainted -with the count and invited him to draw his covert. - -Natasha, afraid that her brother would do something dreadful, had -followed him in some excitement. Seeing the enemies exchanging -friendly greetings, she rode up to them. Ilagin lifted his beaver -cap still higher to Natasha and said, with a pleasant smile, that -the young countess resembled Diana in her passion for the chase as -well as in her beauty, of which he had heard much. - -To expiate his huntsman's offense, Ilagin pressed the Rostovs to -come to an upland of his about a mile away which he usually kept for -himself and which, he said, swarmed with hares. Nicholas agreed, and -the hunt, now doubled, moved on. - -The way to Iligin's upland was across the fields. The hunt -servants fell into line. The masters rode together. "Uncle," Rostov, -and Ilagin kept stealthily glancing at one another's dogs, trying -not to be observed by their companions and searching uneasily for -rivals to their own borzois. - -Rostov was particularly struck by the beauty of a small, -pure-bred, red-spotted bitch on Ilagin's leash, slender but with -muscles like steel, a delicate muzzle, and prominent black eyes. He -had heard of the swiftness of Ilagin's borzois, and in that -beautiful bitch saw a rival to his own Milka. - -In the middle of a sober conversation begun by Ilagin about the -year's harvest, Nicholas pointed to the red-spotted bitch. - -"A fine little bitch, that!" said he in a careless tone. "Is she -swift?" - -"That one? Yes, she's a good dog, gets what she's after," answered -Ilagin indifferently, of the red-spotted bitch Erza, for which, a year -before, he had given a neighbor three families of house serfs. "So -in your parts, too, the harvest is nothing to boast of, Count?" he -went on, continuing the conversation they had begun. And considering -it polite to return the young count's compliment, Ilagin looked at his -borzois and picked out Milka who attracted his attention by her -breadth. "That black-spotted one of yours is fine- well shaped!" -said he. - -"Yes, she's fast enough," replied Nicholas, and thought: "If only -a full-grown hare would cross the field now I'd show you what sort -of borzoi she is," and turning to his groom, he said he would give a -ruble to anyone who found a hare. - -"I don't understand," continued Ilagin, "how some sportsmen can be -so jealous about game and dogs. For myself, I can tell you, Count, I -enjoy riding in company such as this... what could be better?" (he -again raised his cap to Natasha) "but as for counting skins and what -one takes, I don't care about that." - -"Of course not!" - -"Or being upset because someone else's borzoi and not mine catches -something. All I care about is to enjoy seeing the chase, is it not -so, Count? For I consider that..." - -"A-tu!" came the long-drawn cry of one of the borzoi whippers-in, -who had halted. He stood on a knoll in the stubble, holding his whip -aloft, and again repeated his long-drawn cry, "A-tu!" (This call and -the uplifted whip meant that he saw a sitting hare.) - -"Ah, he has found one, I think," said Ilagin carelessly. "Yes, we -must ride up.... Shall we both course it?" answered Nicholas, seeing -in Erza and "Uncle's" red Rugay two rivals he had never yet had a -chance of pitting against his own borzois. "And suppose they outdo -my Milka at once!" he thought as he rode with "Uncle" and Ilagin -toward the hare. - -"A full-grown one?" asked Ilagin as he approached the whip who had -sighted the hare- and not without agitation he looked round and -whistled to Erza. - -"And you, Michael Nikanorovich?" he said, addressing "Uncle." - -The latter was riding with a sullen expression on his face. - -"How can I join in? Why, you've given a village for each of your -borzois! That's it, come on! Yours are worth thousands. Try yours -against one another, you two, and I'll look on!" - -"Rugay, hey, hey!" he shouted. "Rugayushka!" he added, involuntarily -by this diminutive expressing his affection and the hopes he placed on -this red borzoi. Natasha saw and felt the agitation the two elderly -men and her brother were trying to conceal, and was herself excited by -it. - -The huntsman stood halfway up the knoll holding up his whip and -the gentlefolk rode up to him at a footpace; the hounds that were -far off on the horizon turned away from the hare, and the whips, but -not the gentlefolk, also moved away. All were moving slowly and -sedately. - -"How is it pointing?" asked Nicholas, riding a hundred paces -toward the whip who had sighted the hare. - -But before the whip could reply, the hare, scenting the frost coming -next morning, was unable to rest and leaped up. The pack on leash -rushed downhill in full cry after the hare, and from all sides the -borzois that were not on leash darted after the hounds and the hare. -All the hunt, who had been moving slowly, shouted, "Stop!" calling -in the hounds, while the borzoi whips, with a cry of "A-tu!"galloped -across the field setting the borzois on the hare. The tranquil Ilagin, -Nicholas, Natasha, and "Uncle" flew, reckless of where and how they -went, seeing only the borzois and the hare and fearing only to lose -sight even for an instant of the chase. The hare they had started -was a strong and swift one. When he jumped up he did not run at -once, but pricked his ears listening to the shouting and trampling -that resounded from all sides at once. He took a dozen bounds, not -very quickly, letting the borzois gain on him, and, finally having -chosen his direction and realized his danger, laid back his ears and -rushed off headlong. He had been lying in the stubble, but in front of -him was the autumn sowing where the ground was soft. The two borzois -of the huntsman who had sighted him, having been the nearest, were the -first to see and pursue him, but they had not gone far before Ilagin's -red-spotted Erza passed them, got within a length, flew at the hare -with terrible swiftness aiming at his scut, and, thinking she had -seized him, rolled over like a ball. The hare arched his back and -bounded off yet more swiftly. From behind Erza rushed the -broad-haunched, black-spotted Milka and began rapidly gaining on the -hare. - -"Milashka, dear!" rose Nicholas' triumphant cry. It looked as if -Milka would immediately pounce on the hare, but she overtook him and -flew past. The hare had squatted. Again the beautiful Erza reached -him, but when close to the hare's scut paused as if measuring the -distance, so as not to make a mistake this time but seize his hind -leg. - -"Erza, darling! Ilagin wailed in a voice unlike his own. Erza did -not hearken to his appeal. At the very moment when she would have -seized her prey, the hare moved and darted along the balk between -the winter rye and the stubble. Again Erza and Milka were abreast, -running like a pair of carriage horses, and began to overtake the -hare, but it was easier for the hare to run on the balk and the -borzois did not overtake him so quickly. - -"Rugay, Rugayushka! That's it, come on!" came a third voice just -then, and "Uncle's" red borzoi, straining and curving its back, caught -up with the two foremost borzois, pushed ahead of them regardless of -the terrible strain, put on speed close to the hare, knocked it off -the balk onto the ryefield, again put on speed still more viciously, -sinking to his knees in the muddy field, and all one could see was -how, muddying his back, he rolled over with the hare. A ring of -borzois surrounded him. A moment later everyone had drawn up round the -crowd of dogs. Only the delighted "Uncle" dismounted, and cut off a -pad, shaking the hare for the blood to drip off, and anxiously -glancing round with restless eyes while his arms and legs twitched. He -spoke without himself knowing whom to or what about. "That's it, -come on! That's a dog!... There, it has beaten them all, the -thousand-ruble as well as the one-ruble borzois. That's it, come -on!" said he, panting and looking wrathfully around as if he were -abusing someone, as if they were all his enemies and had insulted him, -and only now had he at last succeeded in justifying himself. "There -are your thousand-ruble ones.... That's it, come on!..." - -"Rugay, here's a pad for you!" he said, throwing down the hare's -muddy pad. "You've deserved it, that's it, come on!" - -"She'd tired herself out, she'd run it down three times by herself," -said Nicholas, also not listening to anyone and regardless of -whether he were heard or not. - -"But what is there in running across it like that?" said Ilagin's -groom. - -"Once she had missed it and turned it away, any mongrel could take -it," Ilagin was saying at the same time, breathless from his gallop -and his excitement. At the same moment Natasha, without drawing -breath, screamed joyously, ecstatically, and so piercingly that it set -everyone's ear tingling. By that shriek she expressed what the -others expressed by all talking at once, and it was so strange that -she must herself have been ashamed of so wild a cry and everyone -else would have been amazed at it at any other time. "Uncle" himself -twisted up the hare, threw it neatly and smartly across his horse's -back as if by that gesture he meant to rebuke everybody, and, with -an air of not wishing to speak to anyone, mounted his bay and rode -off. The others all followed, dispirited and shamefaced, and only much -later were they able to regain their former affectation of -indifference. For a long time they continued to look at red Rugay who, -his arched back spattered with mud and clanking the ring of his leash, -walked along just behind "Uncle's" horse with the serene air of a -conqueror. - -"Well, I am like any other dog as long as it's not a question of -coursing. But when it is, then look out!" his appearance seem to -Nicholas to be saying. - -When, much later, "Uncle" rode up to Nicholas and began talking to -him, he felt flattered that, after what had happened, "Uncle" -deigned to speak to him. - -CHAPTER VII - -Toward evening Ilagin took leave of Nicholas, who found that they -were so far from home that he accepted "Uncle's" offer that the -hunting party should spend the night in his little village of -Mikhaylovna. - -"And if you put up at my house that will be better still. That's it, -come on!" said "Uncle." "You see it's damp weather, and you could -rest, and the little countess could be driven home in a trap." - -"Uncle's" offer was accepted. A huntsman was sent to Otradnoe for -a trap, while Nicholas rode with Natasha and Petya to "Uncle's" house. - -Some five male domestic serfs, big and little, rushed out to the -front porch to meet their master. A score of women serfs, old and -young, as well as children, popped out from the back entrance to -have a look at the hunters who were arriving. The presence of Natasha- -a woman, a lady, and on horseback- raised the curiosity of the serfs -to such a degree that many of them came up to her, stared her in the -face, and unabashed by her presence made remarks about her as though -she were some prodigy on show and not a human being able to hear or -understand what was said about her. - -"Arinka! Look, she sits sideways! There she sits and her skirt -dangles.... See, she's got a little hunting horn!" - -"Goodness gracious! See her knife?..." - -"Isn't she a Tartar!" - -"How is it you didn't go head over heels?" asked the boldest of all, -addressing Natasha directly. - -"Uncle" dismounted at the porch of his little wooden house which -stood in the midst of an overgrown garden and, after a glance at his -retainers, shouted authoritatively that the superfluous ones should -take themselves off and that all necessary preparations should be made -to receive the guests and the visitors. - -The serfs all dispersed. "Uncle" lifted Natasha off her horse and -taking her hand led her up the rickety wooden steps of the porch. -The house, with its bare, unplastered log walls, was not overclean- it -did not seem that those living in it aimed at keeping it spotless- but -neither was it noticeably neglected. In the entry there was a smell of -fresh apples, and wolf and fox skins hung about. - -"Uncle" led the visitors through the anteroom into a small hall with -a folding table and red chairs, then into the drawing room with a -round birchwood table and a sofa, and finally into his private room -where there was a tattered sofa, a worn carpet, and portraits of -Suvorov, of the host's father and mother, and of himself in military -uniform. The study smelt strongly of tobacco and dogs. "Uncle" asked -his visitors to sit down and make themselves at home, and then went -out of the room. Rugay, his back still muddy, came into the room and -lay down on the sofa, cleaning himself with his tongue and teeth. -Leading from the study was a passage in which a partition with -ragged curtains could be seen. From behind this came women's -laughter and whispers. Natasha, Nicholas, and Petya took off their -wraps and sat down on the sofa. Petya, leaning on his elbow, fell -asleep at once. Natasha and Nicholas were silent. Their faces -glowed, they were hungry and very cheerful. They looked at one another -(now that the hunt was over and they were in the house, Nicholas no -longer considered it necessary to show his manly superiority over -his sister), Natasha gave him a wink, and neither refrained long -from bursting into a peal of ringing laughter even before they had a -pretext ready to account for it. - -After a while "Uncle" came in, in a Cossack coat, blue trousers, and -small top boots. And Natasha felt that this costume, the very one -she had regarded with surprise and amusement at Otradnoe, was just the -right thing and not at all worse than a swallow-tail or frock coat. -"Uncle" too was in high spirits and far from being offended by the -brother's and sister's laughter (it could never enter his head that -they might be laughing at his way of life) he himself joined in the -merriment. - -"That's right, young countess, that's it, come on! I never saw -anyone like her!" said he, offering Nicholas a pipe with a long stem -and, with a practiced motion of three fingers, taking down another -that had been cut short. "She's ridden all day like a man, and is as -fresh as ever! - -Soon after "Uncle's" reappearance the door was opened, evidently -from the sound by a barefooted girl, and a stout, rosy, good-looking -woman of about forty, with a double chin and full red lips, entered -carrying a large loaded tray. With hospitable dignity and cordiality -in her glance and in every motion, she looked at the visitors and, -with a pleasant smile, bowed respectfully. In spite of her exceptional -stoutness, which caused her to protrude her chest and stomach and -throw back her head, this woman (who was "Uncle's" housekeeper) trod -very lightly. She went to the table, set down the tray, and with her -plump white hands deftly took from it the bottles and various hors -d'oeuvres and dishes and arranged them on the table. When she had -finished, she stepped aside and stopped at the door with a smile on -her face. "Here I am. I am she! Now do you understand 'Uncle'?" her -expression said to Rostov. How could one help understanding? Not -only Nicholas, but even Natasha understood the meaning of his puckered -brow and the happy complacent smile that slightly puckered his lips -when Anisya Fedorovna entered. On the tray was a bottle of herb -wine, different kinds of vodka, pickled mushrooms, rye cakes made with -buttermilk, honey in the comb, still mead and sparkling mead, -apples, nuts (raw and roasted), and nut-and-honey sweets. Afterwards -she brought a freshly roasted chicken, ham, preserves made with honey, -and preserves made with sugar. - -All this was the fruit of Anisya Fedorovna's housekeeping, -gathered and prepared by her. The smell and taste of it all had a -smack of Anisya Fedorovna herself: a savor of juiciness, -cleanliness, whiteness, and pleasant smiles. - -"Take this, little Lady-Countess!" she kept saying, as she offered -Natasha first one thing and then another. - -Natasha ate of everything and thought she had never seen or eaten -such buttermilk cakes, such aromatic jam, such honey-and-nut sweets, -or such a chicken anywhere. Anisya Fedorovna left the room. - -After supper, over their cherry brandy, Rostov and "Uncle" talked of -past and future hunts, of Rugay and Ilagin's dogs, while Natasha sat -upright on the sofa and listened with sparkling eyes. She tried -several times to wake Petya that he might eat something, but he only -muttered incoherent words without waking up. Natasha felt so -lighthearted and happy in these novel surroundings that she only -feared the trap would come for her too soon. After a casual pause, -such as often occurs when receiving friends for the first time in -one's own house, "Uncle," answering a thought that was in his -visitors' mind, said: - -"This, you see, is how I am finishing my days... Death will come. -That's it, come on! Nothing will remain. Then why harm anyone?" - -"Uncle's" face was very significant and even handsome as he said -this. Involuntarily Rostov recalled all the good he had heard about -him from his father and the neighbors. Throughout the whole province -"Uncle" had the reputation of being the most honorable and -disinterested of cranks. They called him in to decide family disputes, -chose him as executor, confided secrets to him, elected him to be a -justice and to other posts; but he always persistently refused -public appointments, passing the autumn and spring in the fields on -his bay gelding, sitting at home in winter, and lying in his overgrown -garden in summer. - -"Why don't you enter the service, Uncle?" - -"I did once, but gave it up. I am not fit for it. That's it, come -on! I can't make head or tail of it. That's for you- I haven't -brains enough. Now, hunting is another matter- that's it, come on! -Open the door, there!" he shouted. "Why have you shut it?" - -The door at the end of the passage led to the huntsmen's room, as -they called the room for the hunt servants. - -There was a rapid patter of bare feet, and an unseen hand opened the -door into the huntsmen's room, from which came the clear sounds of a -balalayka on which someone, who was evidently a master of the art, was -playing. Natasha had been listening to those strains for some time and -now went out into the passage to hear better. - -"That's Mitka, my coachman.... I have got him a good balalayka. -I'm fond of it," said "Uncle." - -It was the custom for Mitka to play the balalayka in the -huntsmen's room when "Uncle" returned from the chase. "Uncle" was fond -of such music. - -"How good! Really very good!" said Nicholas with some -unintentional superciliousness, as if ashamed to confess that the -sounds pleased him very much. - -"Very good?" said Natasha reproachfully, noticing her brother's -tone. "Not 'very good' it's simply delicious!" - -Just as "Uncle's" pickled mushrooms, honey, and cherry brandy had -seemed to her the best in the world, so also that song, at that -moment, seemed to her the acme of musical delight. - -"More, please, more!" cried Natasha at the door as soon as the -balalayka ceased. Mitka tuned up afresh, and recommenced thrumming the -balalayka to the air of My Lady, with trills and variations. "Uncle" -sat listening, slightly smiling, with his head on one side. The air -was repeated a hundred times. The balalayka was retuned several -times and the same notes were thrummed again, but the listeners did -not grow weary of it and wished to hear it again and again. Anisya -Fedorovna came in and leaned her portly person against the doorpost. - -"You like listening?" she said to Natasha, with a smile extremely -like "Uncle's." "That's a good player of ours," she added. - -"He doesn't play that part right!" said "Uncle" suddenly, with an -energetic gesture. "Here he ought to burst out- that's it, come on!- -ought to burst out." - -"Do you play then?" asked Natasha. - -"Uncle" did not answer, but smiled. - -"Anisya, go and see if the strings of my guitar are all right. I -haven't touched it for a long time. That's it- come on! I've given -it up." - -Anisya Fedorovna, with her light step, willingly went to fulfill her -errand and brought back the guitar. - -Without looking at anyone, "Uncle" blew the dust off it and, tapping -the case with his bony fingers, tuned the guitar and settled himself -in his armchair. He took the guitar a little above the fingerboard, -arching his left elbow with a somewhat theatrical gesture, and, with a -wink at Anisya Fedorovna, struck a single chord, pure and sonorous, -and then quietly, smoothly, and confidently began playing in very slow -time, not My Lady, but the well-known song: Came a maiden down the -street. The tune, played with precision and in exact time, began to -thrill in the hearts of Nicholas and Natasha, arousing in them the -same kind of sober mirth as radiated from Anisya Fedorovna's whole -being. Anisya Fedorovna flushed, and drawing her kerchief over her -face went laughing out of the room. "Uncle" continued to play -correctly, carefully, with energetic firmness, looking with a -changed and inspired expression at the spot where Anisya Fedorovna had -just stood. Something seemed to be laughing a little on one side of -his face under his gray mustaches, especially as the song grew brisker -and the time quicker and when, here and there, as he ran his fingers -over the strings, something seemed to snap. - -"Lovely, lovely! Go on, Uncle, go on!" shouted Natasha as soon as he -had finished. She jumped up and hugged and kissed him. "Nicholas, -Nicholas!" she said, turning to her brother, as if asking him: "What -is it moves me so?" - -Nicholas too was greatly pleased by "Uncle's" playing, and "Uncle" -played the piece over again. Anisya Fedorovna's smiling face -reappeared in the doorway and behind hers other faces... - -``` block - Fetching water clear and sweet, -Stop, dear maiden, I entreat- -``` - -played "Uncle" once more, running his fingers skillfully over the -strings, and then he stopped short and jerked his shoulders. - -"Go on, Uncle dear," Natasha wailed in an imploring tone as if her -life depended on it. - -"Uncle" rose, and it was as if there were two men in him: one of -them smiled seriously at the merry fellow, while the merry fellow -struck a naive and precise attitude preparatory to a folk dance. - -"Now then, niece!" he exclaimed, waving to Natasha the hand that had -just struck a chord. - -Natasha threw off the shawl from her shoulders, ran forward to -face "Uncle," and setting her arms akimbo also made a motion with -her shoulders and struck an attitude. - -Where, how, and when had this young countess, educated by an emigree -French governess, imbibed from the Russian air she breathed that -spirit and obtained that manner which the pas de chale~{ The French shawl dance. }~ would, one -would have supposed, long ago have effaced? But the spirit and the -movements were those inimitable and unteachable Russian ones that -"Uncle" had expected of her. As soon as she had struck her pose, and -smiled triumphantly, proudly, and with sly merriment, the fear that -had at first seized Nicholas and the others that she might not do -the right thing was at an end, and they were already admiring her. - -She did the right thing with such precision, such complete -precision, that Anisya Fedorovna, who had at once handed her the -handkerchief she needed for the dance, had tears in her eyes, though -she laughed as she watched this slim, graceful countess, reared in -silks and velvets and so different from herself, who yet was able to -understand all that was in Anisya and in Anisya's father and mother -and aunt, and in every Russian man and woman. - -"Well, little countess; that's it- come on!" cried "Uncle," with a -joyous laugh, having finished the dance. "Well done, niece! Now a fine -young fellow must be found as husband for you. That's it- come on!" - -"He's chosen already," said Nicholas smiling. - -"Oh?" said "Uncle" in surprise, looking inquiringly at Natasha, -who nodded her head with a happy smile. - -"And such a one!" she said. But as soon as she had said it a new -train of thoughts and feelings arose in her. "What did Nicholas' smile -mean when he said 'chosen already'? Is he glad of it or not? It is -as if he thought my Bolkonski would not approve of or understand our -gaiety. But he would understand it all. Where is he now?" she thought, -and her face suddenly became serious. But this lasted only a second. -"Don't dare to think about it," she said to herself, and sat down -again smilingly beside "Uncle," begging him to play something more. - -"Uncle" played another song and a valse; then after a pause he -cleared his throat and sang his favorite hunting song: - -``` block - As 'twas growing dark last night -Fell the snow so soft and light... -``` - -"Uncle" sang as peasants sing, with full and naive conviction that -the whole meaning of a song lies in the words and that the tune -comes of itself, and that apart from the words there is no tune, which -exists only to give measure to the words. As a result of this the -unconsidered tune, like the song of a bird, was extraordinarily -good. Natasha was in ecstasies over "Uncle's" singing. She resolved to -give up learning the harp and to play only the guitar. She asked -"Uncle" for his guitar and at once found the chords of the song. - -After nine o'clock two traps and three mounted men, who had been -sent to look for them, arrived to fetch Natasha and Petya. The count -and countess did not know where they were and were very anxious, -said one of the men. - -Petya was carried out like a log and laid in the larger of the two -traps. Natasha and Nicholas got into the other. "Uncle" wrapped -Natasha up warmly and took leave of her with quite a new tenderness. -He accompanied them on foot as far as the bridge that could not be -crossed, so that they had to go round by the ford, and he sent -huntsmen to ride in front with lanterns. - -"Good-by, dear niece," his voice called out of the darkness- not the -voice Natasha had known previously, but the one that had sung As 'twas -growing dark last night. - -In the village through which they passed there were red lights and a -cheerful smell of smoke. - -"What a darling Uncle is!" said Natasha, when they had come out onto -the highroad. - -"Yes," returned Nicholas. "You're not cold?" - -"No. I'm quite, quite all right. I feel so comfortable!" answered -Natasha, almost perplexed by her feelings. They remained silent a long -while. The night was dark and damp. They could not see the horses, but -only heard them splashing through the unseen mud. - -What was passing in that receptive childlike soul that so eagerly -caught and assimilated all the diverse impressions of life? How did -they all find place in her? But she was very happy. As they were -nearing home she suddenly struck up the air of As 'twas growing dark -last night- the tune of which she had all the way been trying to get -and had at last caught. - -"Got it?" said Nicholas. - -"What were you thinking about just now, Nicholas?" inquired Natasha. - -They were fond of asking one another that question. - -"I?" said Nicholas, trying to remember. "Well, you see, first I -thought that Rugay, the red hound, was like Uncle, and that if he were -a man he would always keep Uncle near him, if not for his riding, then -for his manner. What a good fellow Uncle is! Don't you think so?... -Well, and you?" - -"I? Wait a bit, wait.... Yes, first I thought that we are driving -along and imagining that we are going home, but that heaven knows -where we are really going in the darkness, and that we shall arrive -and suddenly find that we are not in Otradnoe, but in Fairyland. And -then I thought... No, nothing else." - -"I know, I expect you thought of him," said Nicholas, smiling as -Natasha knew by the sound of his voice. - -"No," said Natasha, though she had in reality been thinking about -Prince Andrew at the same time as of the rest, and of how he would -have liked "Uncle." "And then I was saying to myself all the way, 'How -well Anisya carried herself, how well!'" And Nicholas heard her -spontaneous, happy, ringing laughter. "And do you know," she -suddenly said, "I know that I shall never again be as happy and -tranquil as I am now." - -"Rubbish, nonsense, humbug!" exclaimed Nicholas, and he thought: -"How charming this Natasha of mine is! I have no other friend like her -and never shall have. Why should she marry? We might always drive -about together! - -"What a darling this Nicholas of mine is!" thought Natasha. - -"Ah, there are still lights in the drawingroom!" she said, -pointing to the windows of the house that gleamed invitingly in the -moist velvety darkness of the night. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Count Ilya Rostov had resigned the position of Marshal of the -Nobility because it involved him in too much expense, but still his -affairs did not improve. Natasha and Nicholas often noticed their -parents conferring together anxiously and privately and heard -suggestions of selling the fine ancestral Rostov house and estate near -Moscow. It was not necessary to entertain so freely as when the -count had been Marshal, and life at Otradnoe was quieter than in -former years, but still the enormous house and its lodges were full of -people and more than twenty sat down to table every day. These were -all their own people who had settled down in the house almost as -members of the family, or persons who were, it seemed, obliged to live -in the count's house. Such were Dimmler the musician and his wife, -Vogel the dancing master and his family, Belova, an old maiden lady, -an inmate of the house, and many others such as Petya's tutors, the -girls' former governess, and other people who simply found it -preferable and more advantageous to live in the count's house than -at home. They had not as many visitors as before, but the old habits -of life without which the count and countess could not conceive of -existence remained unchanged. There was still the hunting -establishment which Nicholas had even enlarged, the same fifty -horses and fifteen grooms in the stables, the same expensive -presents and dinner parties to the whole district on name days; -there were still the count's games of whist and boston, at which- -spreading out his cards so that everybody could see them- he let -himself be plundered of hundreds of rubles every day by his neighbors, -who looked upon an opportunity to play a rubber with Count Rostov as a -most profitable source of income. - -The count moved in his affairs as in a huge net, trying not to -believe that he was entangled but becoming more and more so at every -step, and feeling too feeble to break the meshes or to set to work -carefully and patiently to disentangle them. The countess, with her -loving heart, felt that her children were being ruined, that it was -not the count's fault for he could not help being what he was- that -(though he tried to hide it) he himself suffered from the -consciousness of his own and his children's ruin, and she tried to -find means of remedying the position. From her feminine point of -view she could see only one solution, namely, for Nicholas to marry -a rich heiress. She felt this to be their last hope and that if -Nicholas refused the match she had found for him, she would have to -abandon the hope of ever getting matters right. This match was with -Julie Karagina, the daughter of excellent and virtuous parents, a girl -the Rostovs had known from childhood, and who had now become a wealthy -heiress through the death of the last of her brothers. - -The countess had written direct to Julie's mother in Moscow -suggesting a marriage between their children and had received a -favorable answer from her. Karagina had replied that for her part -she was agreeable, and everything depend on her daughter's -inclination. She invited Nicholas to come to Moscow. - -Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, told her son -that now both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see him -married. She said she could lie down in her grave peacefully if that -were accomplished. Then she told him that she knew of a splendid -girl and tried to discover what he thought about marriage. - -At other times she praised Julie to him and advised him to go to -Moscow during the holidays to amuse himself. Nicholas guessed what his -mother's remarks were leading to and during one of these conversations -induced her to speak quite frankly. She told him that her only hope of -getting their affairs disentangled now lay in his marrying Julie -Karagina. - -"But, Mamma, suppose I loved a girl who has no fortune, would you -expect me to sacrifice my feelings and my honor for the sake of -money?" he asked his mother, not realizing the cruelty of his question -and only wishing to show his noble-mindedness. - -"No, you have not understood me," said his mother, not knowing how -to justify herself. "You have not understood me, Nikolenka. It is your -happiness I wish for," she added, feeling that she was telling an -untruth and was becoming entangled. She began to cry. - -"Mamma, don't cry! Only tell me that you wish it, and you know I -will give my life, anything, to put you at ease," said Nicholas. "I -would sacrifice anything for you- even my feelings." - -But the countess did not want the question put like that: she did -not want a sacrifice from her son, she herself wished to make a -sacrifice for him. - -"No, you have not understood me, don't let us talk about it," she -replied, wiping away her tears. - -"Maybe I do love a poor girl," said Nicholas to himself. "Am I to -sacrifice my feelings and my honor for money? I wonder how Mamma could -speak so to me. Because Sonya is poor I must not love her," he -thought, "must not respond to her faithful, devoted love? Yet I should -certainly be happier with her than with some doll-like Julie. I can -always sacrifice my feelings for my family's welfare," he said to -himself, "but I can't coerce my feelings. If I love Sonya, that -feeling is for me stronger and higher than all else." - -Nicholas did not go to Moscow, and the countess did not renew the -conversation with him about marriage. She saw with sorrow, and -sometimes with exasperation, symptoms of a growing attachment -between her son and the portionless Sonya. Though she blamed herself -for it, she could not refrain from grumbling at and worrying Sonya, -often pulling her up without reason, addressing her stiffly as "my -dear," and using the formal "you" instead of the intimate "thou" in -speaking to her. The kindhearted countess was the more vexed with -Sonya because that poor, dark-eyed niece of hers was so meek, so kind, -so devotedly grateful to her benefactors, and so faithfully, -unchangingly, and unselfishly in love with Nicholas, that there were -no grounds for finding fault with her. - -Nicholas was spending the last of his leave at home. A fourth letter -had come from Prince Andrew, from Rome, in which he wrote that he -would have been on his way back to Russia long ago had not his wound -unexpectedly reopened in the warm climate, which obliged him to -defer his return till the beginning of the new year. Natasha was still -as much in love with her betrothed, found the same comfort in that -love, and was still as ready to throw herself into all the pleasures -of life as before; but at the end of the fourth month of their -separation she began to have fits of depression which she could not -master. She felt sorry for herself: sorry that she was being wasted -all this time and of no use to anyone- while she felt herself so -capable of loving and being loved. - -Things were not cheerful in the Rostovs' home. - -CHAPTER IX - -Christmas came and except for the ceremonial Mass, the solemn and -wearisome Christmas congratulations from neighbors and servants, and -the new dresses everyone put on, there were no special festivities, -though the calm frost of twenty degrees Reaumur, the dazzling sunshine -by day, and the starlight of the winter nights seemed to call for some -special celebration of the season. - -On the third day of Christmas week, after the midday dinner, all the -inmates of the house dispersed to various rooms. It was the dullest -time of the day. Nicholas, who had been visiting some neighbors that -morning, was asleep on the sitting-room sofa. The old count was -resting in his study. Sonya sat in the drawing room at the round -table, copying a design for embroidery. The countess was playing -patience. Nastasya Ivanovna the buffoon sat with a sad face at the -window with two old ladies. Natasha came into the room, went up to -Sonya, glanced at what she was doing, and then went up to her mother -and stood without speaking. - -"Why are you wandering about like an outcast?" asked her mother. -"What do you want?" - -"Him... I want him... now, this minute! I want him!" said Natasha, -with glittering eyes and no sign of a smile. - -The countess lifted her head and looked attentively at her daughter. - -"Don't look at me, Mamma! Don't look; I shall cry directly." - -"Sit down with me a little," said the countess. - -"Mamma, I want him. Why should I be wasted like this, Mamma?" - -Her voice broke, tears gushed from her eyes, and she turned -quickly to hide them and left the room. - -She passed into the sitting room, stood there thinking awhile, and -then went into the maids' room. There an old maidservant was grumbling -at a young girl who stood panting, having just run in through the cold -from the serfs' quarters. - -"Stop playing- there's a time for everything," said the old woman. - -"Let her alone, Kondratevna," said Natasha. "Go, Mavrushka, go." - -Having released Mavrushka, Natasha crossed the dancing hall and went -to the vestibule. There an old footman and two young ones were playing -cards. They broke off and rose as she entered. - -"What can I do with them?" thought Natasha. - -"Oh, Nikita, please go... where can I send him?... Yes, go to the -yard and fetch a fowl, please, a cock, and you, Misha, bring me some -oats." - -"Just a few oats?" said Misha, cheerfully and readily. - -"Go, go quickly," the old man urged him. - -"And you, Theodore, get me a piece of chalk." - -On her way past the butler's pantry she told them to set a -samovar, though it was not at all the time for tea. - -Foka, the butler, was the most ill-tempered person in the house. -Natasha liked to test her power over him. He distrusted the order -and asked whether the samovar was really wanted. - -"Oh dear, what a young lady!" said Foka, pretending to frown at -Natasha. - -No one in the house sent people about or gave them as much trouble -as Natasha did. She could not see people unconcernedly, but had to -send them on some errand. She seemed to be trying whether any of -them would get angry or sulky with her; but the serfs fulfilled no -one's orders so readily as they did hers. "What can I do, where can -I go?" thought she, as she went slowly along the passage. - -"Nastasya Ivanovna, what sort of children shall I have?" she asked -the buffoon, who was coming toward her in a woman's jacket. - -"Why, fleas, crickets, grasshoppers," answered the buffoon. - -"O Lord, O Lord, it's always the same! Oh, where am I to go? What am -I to do with myself?" And tapping with her heels, she ran quickly -upstairs to see Vogel and his wife who lived on the upper story. - -Two governesses were sitting with the Vogels at a table, on which -were plates of raisins, walnuts, and almonds. The governesses were -discussing whether it was cheaper to live in Moscow or Odessa. Natasha -sat down, listened to their talk with a serious and thoughtful air, -and then got up again. - -"The island of Madagascar," she said, "Ma-da-gas-car," she repeated, -articulating each syllable distinctly, and, not replying to Madame -Schoss who asked her what she was saying, she went out of the room. - -Her brother Petya was upstairs too; with the man in attendance on -him he was preparing fireworks to let off that night. - -"Petya! Petya!" she called to him. "Carry me downstairs." - -Petya ran up and offered her his back. She jumped on it, putting her -arms round his neck, and he pranced along with her. - -"No, don't... the island of Madagascar!" she said, and jumping off -his back she went downstairs. - -Having as it were reviewed her kingdom, tested her power, and made -sure that everyone was submissive, but that all the same it was -dull, Natasha betook herself to the ballroom, picked up her guitar, -sat down in a dark corner behind a bookcase, and began to run her -fingers over the strings in the bass, picking out a passage she -recalled from an opera she had heard in Petersburg with Prince Andrew. -What she drew from the guitar would have had no meaning for other -listeners, but in her imagination a whole series of reminiscences -arose from those sounds. She sat behind the bookcase with her eyes -fixed on a streak of light escaping from the pantry door and -listened to herself and pondered. She was in a mood for brooding on -the past. - -Sonya passed to the pantry with a glass in her hand. Natasha glanced -at her and at the crack in the pantry door, and it seemed to her -that she remembered the light failing through that crack once before -and Sonya passing with a glass in her hand. "Yes it was exactly the -same," thought Natasha. - -"Sonya, what is this?" she cried, twanging a thick string. - -"Oh, you are there!" said Sonya with a start, and came near and -listened. "I don't know. A storm?" she ventured timidly, afraid of -being wrong. - -"There! That's just how she started and just how she came up smiling -timidly when all this happened before," thought Natasha, "and in -just the same way I thought there was something lacking in her." - -"No, it's the chorus from The Water-Carrier, listen! " and Natasha -sang the air of the chorus so that Sonya should catch it. "Where -were you going?" she asked. - -"To change the water in this glass. I am just finishing the design." - -"You always find something to do, but I can't," said Natasha. "And -where's Nicholas?" - -"Asleep, I think." - -"Sonya, go and wake him," said Natasha. "Tell him I want him to come -and sing." - -She sat awhile, wondering what the meaning of it all having happened -before could be, and without solving this problem, or at all -regretting not having done so, she again passed in fancy to the time -when she was with him and he was looking at her with a lover's eyes. - -"Oh, if only he would come quicker! I am so afraid it will never be! -And, worst of all, I am growing old- that's the thing! There won't -then be in me what there is now. But perhaps he'll come today, will -come immediately. Perhaps he has come and is sitting in the drawing -room. Perhaps he came yesterday and I have forgotten it." She rose, -put down the guitar, and went to the drawing room. - -All the domestic circle, tutors, governesses, and guests, were -already at the tea table. The servants stood round the table- but -Prince Andrew was not there and life was going on as before. - -"Ah, here she is!" said the old count, when he saw Natasha enter. -"Well, sit down by me." But Natasha stayed by her mother and glanced -round as if looking for something. - -"Mamma!" she muttered, "give him to me, give him, Mamma, quickly, -quickly!" and she again had difficulty in repressing her sobs. - -She sat down at the table and listened to the conversation between -the elders and Nicholas, who had also come to the table. "My God, my -God! The same faces, the same talk, Papa holding his cup and blowing -in the same way!" thought Natasha, feeling with horror a sense of -repulsion rising up in her for the whole household, because they -were always the same. - -After tea, Nicholas, Sonya, and Natasha went to the sitting room, to -their favorite corner where their most intimate talks always began. - -CHAPTER X - -Does it ever happen to you," said Natasha to her brother, when -they settled down in the sitting room, "does it ever happen to you -to feel as if there were nothing more to come- nothing; that -everything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?" - -"I should think so!" he replied. "I have felt like that when -everything was all right and everyone was cheerful. The thought has -come into my mind that I was already tired of it all, and that we must -all die. Once in the regiment I had not gone to some merrymaking where -there was music... and suddenly I felt so depressed..." - -"Oh yes, I know, I know, I know!" Natasha interrupted him. "When I -was quite little that used to be so with me. Do you remember when I -was punished once about some plums? You were all dancing, and I sat -sobbing in the schoolroom? I shall never forget it: I felt sad and -sorry for everyone, for myself, and for everyone. And I was -innocent- that was the chief thing," said Natasha. "Do you remember?" - -"I remember," answered Nicholas. "I remember that I came to you -afterwards and wanted to comfort you, but do you know, I felt -ashamed to. We were terribly absurd. I had a funny doll then and -wanted to give it to you. Do you remember?" - -"And do you remember," Natasha asked with a pensive smile, "how -once, long, long ago, when we were quite little, Uncle called us -into the study- that was in the old house- and it was dark- we went in -and suddenly there stood..." - -"A Negro," chimed in Nicholas with a smile of delight. "Of course -I remember. Even now I don't know whether there really was a Negro, or -if we only dreamed it or were told about him." - -"He was gray, you remember, and had white teeth, and stood and -looked at us..." - -"Sonya, do you remember?" asked Nicholas. - -"Yes, yes, I do remember something too," Sonya answered timidly. - -"You know I have asked Papa and Mamma about that Negro," said -Natasha, "and they say there was no Negro at all. But you see, you -remember!" - -"Of course I do, I remember his teeth as if I had just seen them." - -"How strange it is! It's as if it were a dream! I like that." - -"And do you remember how we rolled hard-boiled eggs in the ballroom, -and suddenly two old women began spinning round on the carpet? Was -that real or not? Do you remember what fun it was?" - -"Yes, and you remember how Papa in his blue overcoat fired a gun -in the porch?" - -So they went through their memories, smiling with pleasure: not -the sad memories of old age, but poetic, youthful ones- those -impressions of one's most distant past in which dreams and realities -blend- and they laughed with quiet enjoyment. - -Sonya, as always, did not quite keep pace with them, though they -shared the same reminiscences. - -Much that they remembered had slipped from her mind, and what she -recalled did not arouse the same poetic feeling as they experienced. -She simply enjoyed their pleasure and tried to fit in with it. - -She only really took part when they recalled Sonya's first -arrival. She told them how afraid she had been of Nicholas because -he had on a corded jacket and her nurse had told her that she, too, -would be sewn up with cords. - -"And I remember their telling me that you had been born under a -cabbage," said Natasha, and I remember that I dared not disbelieve -it then, but knew that it was not true, and I felt so uncomfortable." - -While they were talking a maid thrust her head in at the other -door of the sitting room. - -"They have brought the cock, Miss," she said in a whisper. - -"It isn't wanted, Petya. Tell them to take it away," replied -Natasha. - -In the middle of their talk in the sitting room, Dimmler came in and -went up to the harp that stood there in a corner. He took off its -cloth covering, and the harp gave out a jarring sound. - -"Mr. Dimmler, please play my favorite nocturne by Field," came the -old countess' voice from the drawing room. - -Dimmler struck a chord and, turning to Natasha, Nicholas, and Sonya, -remarked: "How quiet you young people are!" - -"Yes, we're philosophizing," said Natasha, glancing round for a -moment and then continuing the conversation. They were now -discussing dreams. - -Dimmler began to play; Natasha went on tiptoe noiselessly to the -table, took up a candle, carried it out, and returned, seating herself -quietly in her former place. It was dark in the room especially -where they were sitting on the sofa, but through the big windows the -silvery light of the full moon fell on the floor. Dimmler had finished -the piece but still sat softly running his fingers over the strings, -evidently uncertain whether to stop or to play something else. - -"Do you know," said Natasha in a whisper, moving closer to -Nicholas and Sonya, "that when one goes on and on recalling -memories, one at last begins to remember what happened before one -was in the world..." - -"That is metempsychosis," said Sonya, who had always learned well, -and remembered everything. "The Egyptians believed that our souls have -lived in animals, and will go back into animals again." - -"No, I don't believe we ever were in animals," said Natasha, still -in a whisper though the music had ceased. "But I am certain that we -were angels somewhere there, and have been here, and that is why we -remember...." - -"May I join you?" said Dimmler who had come up quietly, and he sat -down by them. - -"If we have been angels, why have we fallen lower?" said Nicholas. -"No, that can't be!" - -"Not lower, who said we were lower?... How do I know what I was -before?" Natasha rejoined with conviction. "The soul is immortal- well -then, if I shall always live I must have lived before, lived for a -whole eternity." - -"Yes, but it is hard for us to imagine eternity," remarked -Dimmler, who had joined the young folk with a mildly condescending -smile but now spoke as quietly and seriously as they. - -"Why is it hard to imagine eternity?" said Natasha. "It is now -today, and it will be tomorrow, and always; and there was yesterday, -and the day before..." - -"Natasha! Now it's your turn. Sing me something," they heard the -countess say. "Why are you sitting there like conspirators?" - -"Mamma, I don't at all want to," replied Natasha, but all the same -she rose. - -None of them, not even the middle-aged Dimmler, wanted to break -off their conversation and quit that corner in the sitting room, but -Natasha got up and Nicholas sat down at the clavichord. Standing as -usual in the middle of the hall and choosing the place where the -resonance was best, Natasha began to sing her mother's favorite song. - -She had said she did not want to sing, but it was long since she had -sung, and long before she again sang, as she did that evening. The -count, from his study where he was talking to Mitenka, heard her -and, like a schoolboy in a hurry to run out to play, blundered in -his talk while giving orders to the steward, and at last stopped, -while Mitenka stood in front of him also listening and smiling. -Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath in -time with her. Sonya, as she listened, thought of the immense -difference there was between herself and her friend, and how -impossible it was for her to be anything like as bewitching as her -cousin. The old countess sat with a blissful yet sad smile and with -tears in her eyes, occasionally shaking her head. She thought of -Natasha and of her own youth, and of how there was something unnatural -and dreadful in this impending marriage of Natasha and Prince Andrew. - -Dimmler, who had seated himself beside the countess, listened with -closed eyes. - -"Ah, Countess," he said at last, "that's a European talent, she -has nothing to learn- what softness, tenderness, and strength...." - -"Ah, how afraid I am for her, how afraid I am!" said the countess, -not realizing to whom she was speaking. Her maternal instinct told her -that Natasha had too much of something, and that because of this she -would not be happy. Before Natasha had finished singing, -fourteen-year-old Petya rushed in delightedly, to say that some -mummers had arrived. - -Natasha stopped abruptly. - -"Idiot!" she screamed at her brother and, running to a chair, -threw herself on it, sobbing so violently that she could not stop -for a long time. - -"It's nothing, Mamma, really it's nothing; only Petya startled -me," she said, trying to smile, but her tears still flowed and sobs -still choked her. - -The mummers (some of the house serfs) dressed up as bears, Turks, -innkeepers, and ladies- frightening and funny- bringing in with them -the cold from outside and a feeling of gaiety, crowded, at first -timidly, into the anteroom, then hiding behind one another they pushed -into the ballroom where, shyly at first and then more and more merrily -and heartily, they started singing, dancing, and playing Christmas -games. The countess, when she had identified them and laughed at their -costumes, went into the drawing room. The count sat in the ballroom, -smiling radiantly and applauding the players. The young people had -disappeared. - -Half an hour later there appeared among the other mummers in the -ballroom an old lady in a hooped skirt- this was Nicholas. A Turkish -girl was Petya. A clown was Dimmler. An hussar was Natasha, and a -Circassian was Sonya with burnt-cork mustache and eyebrows. - -After the condescending surprise, nonrecognition, and praise, from -those who were not themselves dressed up, the young people decided -that their costumes were so good that they ought to be shown -elsewhere. - -Nicholas, who, as the roads were in splendid condition, wanted to -take them all for a drive in his troyka, proposed to take with them -about a dozen of the serf mummers and drive to "Uncle's." - -"No, why disturb the old fellow?" said the countess. "Besides, you -wouldn't have room to turn round there. If you must go, go to the -Melyukovs'" - -Melyukova was a widow, who, with her family and their tutors and -governesses, lived three miles from the Rostovs. - -"That's right, my dear," chimed in the old count, thoroughly -aroused. "I'll dress up at once and go with them. I'll make Pashette -open her eyes." - -But the countess would not agree to his going; he had had a bad -leg all these last days. It was decided that the count must not go, -but that if Louisa Ivanovna (Madame Schoss) would go with them, the -young ladies might go to the Melyukovs', Sonya, generally so timid and -shy, more urgently than anyone begging Louisa Ivanovna not to refuse. - -Sonya's costume was the best of all. Her mustache and eyebrows -were extraordinarily becoming. Everyone told her she looked very -handsome, and she was in a spirited and energetic mood unusual with -her. Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be -decided, and in her male attire she seemed quite a different person. -Louisa Ivanovna consented to go, and in half an hour four troyka -sleighs with large and small bells, their runners squeaking and -whistling over the frozen snow, drove up to the porch. - -Natasha was foremost in setting a merry holiday tone, which, passing -from one to another, grew stronger and stronger and reached its climax -when they all came out into the frost and got into the sleighs, -talking, calling to one another, laughing, and shouting. - -Two of the troykas were the usual household sleighs, the third was -the old count's with a trotter from the Orlov stud as shaft horse, the -fourth was Nicholas' own with a short shaggy black shaft horse. -Nicholas, in his old lady's dress over which he had belted his -hussar overcoat, stood in the middle of the sleigh, reins in hand. - -It was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from the -metal harness disks and from the eyes of the horses, who looked -round in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof. - -Natasha, Sonya, Madame Schoss, and two maids got into Nicholas' -sleigh; Dimmler, his wife, and Petya, into the old count's, and the -rest of the mummers seated themselves in the other two sleighs. - -"You go ahead, Zakhar!" shouted Nicholas to his father's coachman, -wishing for a chance to race past him. - -The old count's troyka, with Dimmler and his party, started forward, -squeaking on its runners as though freezing to the snow, its -deep-toned bell clanging. The side horses, pressing against the shafts -of the middle horse, sank in the snow, which was dry and glittered -like sugar, and threw it up. - -Nicholas set off, following the first sleigh; behind him the -others moved noisily, their runners squeaking. At first they drove -at a steady trot along the narrow road. While they drove past the -garden the shadows of the bare trees often fell across the road and -hid the brilliant moonlight, but as soon as they were past the -fence, the snowy plain bathed in moonlight and motionless spread out -before them glittering like diamonds and dappled with bluish -shadows. Bang, bang! went the first sleigh over a cradle hole in the -snow of the road, and each of the other sleighs jolted in the same -way, and rudely breaking the frost-bound stillness, the troykas -began to speed along the road, one after the other. - -"A hare's track, a lot of tracks!" rang out Natasha's voice -through the frost-bound air. - -"How light it is, Nicholas!" came Sonya's voice. - -Nicholas glanced round at Sonya, and bent down to see her face -closer. Quite a new, sweet face with black eyebrows and mustaches -peeped up at him from her sable furs- so close and yet so distant- -in the moonlight. - -"That used to be Sonya," thought he, and looked at her closer and -smiled. - -"What is it, Nicholas?" - -"Nothing," said he and turned again to the horses. - -When they came out onto the beaten highroad- polished by sleigh -runners and cut up by rough-shod hoofs, the marks of which were -visible in the moonlight- the horses began to tug at the reins of -their own accord and increased their pace. The near side horse, -arching his head and breaking into a short canter, tugged at his -traces. The shaft horse swayed from side to side, moving his ears as -if asking: "Isn't it time to begin now?" In front, already far ahead -the deep bell of the sleigh ringing farther and farther off, the black -horses driven by Zakhar could be clearly seen against the white -snow. From that sleigh one could hear the shouts, laughter, and voices -of the mummers. - -"Gee up, my darlings!" shouted Nicholas, pulling the reins to one -side and flourishing the whip. - -It was only by the keener wind that met them and the jerks given -by the side horses who pulled harder- ever increasing their gallop- -that one noticed how fast the troyka was flying. Nicholas looked back. -With screams squeals, and waving of whips that caused even the shaft -horses to gallop- the other sleighs followed. The shaft horse swung -steadily beneath the bow over its head, with no thought of -slackening pace and ready to put on speed when required. - -Nicholas overtook the first sleigh. They were driving downhill and -coming out upon a broad trodden track across a meadow, near a river. - -"Where are we?" thought he. "It's the Kosoy meadow, I suppose. But -no- this is something new I've never seen before. This isn't the Kosoy -meadow nor the Demkin hill, and heaven only knows what it is! It is -something new and enchanted. Well, whatever it may be..." And shouting -to his horses, he began to pass the first sleigh. - -Zakhar held back his horses and turned his face, which was already -covered with hoarfrost to his eyebrows. - -Nicholas gave the horses the rein, and Zakhar, stretching out his -arms, clucked his tongue and let his horses go. - -"Now, look out, master!" he cried. - -Faster still the two troykas flew side by side, and faster moved the -feet of the galloping side horses. Nicholas began to draw ahead. -Zakhar, while still keeping his arms extended, raised one hand with -the reins. - -"No you won't, master!" he shouted. - -Nicholas put all his horses to a gallop and passed Zakhar. The -horses showered the fine dry snow on the faces of those in the sleigh- -beside them sounded quick ringing bells and they caught confused -glimpses of swiftly moving legs and the shadows of the troyka they -were passing. The whistling sound of the runners on the snow and the -voices of girls shrieking were heard from different sides. - -Again checking his horses, Nicholas looked around him. They were -still surrounded by the magic plain bathed in moonlight and spangled -with stars. - -"Zakhar is shouting that I should turn to the left, but why to the -left?" thought Nicholas. "Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is this -Melyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows -what is happening to us- but it is very strange and pleasant -whatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh. - -"Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the -strange, pretty, unfamiliar people- the one with fine eyebrows and -mustache. - -"I think this used to be Natasha," thought Nicholas, "and that was -Madame Schoss, but perhaps it's not, and this Circassian with the -mustache I don't know, but I love her." - -"Aren't you cold?" he asked. - -They did not answer but began to laugh. Dimmler from the sleigh -behind shouted something- probably something funny- but they could not -make out what he said. - -"Yes, yes!" some voices answered, laughing. - -"But here was a fairy forest with black moving shadows, and a -glitter of diamonds and a flight of marble steps and the silver -roofs of fairy buildings and the shrill yells of some animals. And -if this is really Melyukovka, it is still stranger that we drove -heaven knows where and have come to Melyukovka," thought Nicholas. - -It really was Melyukovka, and maids and footmen with merry faces -came running, out to the porch carrying candles. - -"Who is it?" asked someone in the porch. - -"The mummers from the count's. I know by the horses," replied some -voices. - -CHAPTER XI - -Pelageya Danilovna Melyukova, a broadly built, energetic woman -wearing spectacles, sat in the drawing room in a loose dress, -surrounded by her daughters whom she was trying to keep from feeling -dull. They were quietly dropping melted wax into snow and looking at -the shadows the wax figures would throw on the wall, when they heard -the steps and voices of new arrivals in the vestibule. - -Hussars, ladies, witches, clowns, and bears, after clearing their -throats and wiping the hoarfrost from their faces in the vestibule, -came into the ballroom where candles were hurriedly lighted. The -clown- Dimmler- and the lady- Nicholas- started a dance. Surrounded by -the screaming children the mummers, covering their faces and -disguising their voices, bowed to their hostess and arranged -themselves about the room. - -"Dear me! there's no recognizing them! And Natasha! See whom she -looks like! She really reminds me of somebody. But Herr Dimmler- isn't -he good! I didn't know him! And how he dances. Dear me, there's a -Circassian. Really, how becoming it is to dear Sonya. And who is that? -Well, you have cheered us up! Nikita and Vanya- clear away the tables! -And we were sitting so quietly. Ha, ha, ha!... The hussar, the hussar! -Just like a boy! And the legs!... I can't look at him..." different -voices were saying. - -Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into -the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male -garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish -arms from behind the door. Ten minutes later, all the young -Melyukovs joined the mummers. - -Pelageya Danilovna, having given orders to clear the rooms for the -visitors and arranged about refreshments for the gentry and the serfs, -went about among the mummers without removing her spectacles, -peering into their faces with a suppressed smile and failing to -recognize any of them. It was not merely Dimmler and the Rostovs she -failed to recognize, she did not even recognize her own daughters, -or her late husband's, dressing gowns and uniforms, which they had put -on. - -"And who is is this?" she asked her governess, peering into the face -of her own daughter dressed up as a Kazan-Tartar. "I suppose it is one -of the Rostovs! Well, Mr. Hussar, and what regiment do you serve -in?" she asked Natasha. "Here, hand some fruit jelly to the Turk!" she -ordered the butler who was handing things round. "That's not forbidden -by his law." - -Sometimes, as she looked at the strange but amusing capers cut by -the dancers, who- having decided once for all that being disguised, no -one would recognize them- were not at all shy, Pelageya Danilovna -hid her face in her handkerchief, and her whole stout body shook -with irrepressible, kindly, elderly laughter. - -"My little Sasha! Look at Sasha!" she said. - -After Russian country dances and chorus dances, Pelageya Danilovna -made the serfs and gentry join in one large circle: a ring, a -string, and a silver ruble were fetched and they all played games -together. - -In an hour, all the costumes were crumpled and disordered. The -corked eyebrows and mustaches were smeared over the perspiring, -flushed, and merry faces. Pelageya Danilovna began to recognize the -mummers, admired their cleverly contrived costumes, and particularly -how they suited the young ladies, and she thanked them all for -having entertained her so well. The visitors were invited to supper in -the drawing room, and the serfs had something served to them in the -ballroom. - -"Now to tell one's fortune in the empty bathhouse is frightening!" -said an old maid who lived with the Melyukovs, during supper. - -"Why?" said the eldest Melyukov girl. - -"You wouldn't go, it takes courage..." - -"I'll go," said Sonya. - -"Tell what happened to the young lady!" said the second Melyukov -girl. - -"Well," began the old maid, "a young lady once went out, took a -cock, laid the table for two, all properly, and sat down. After -sitting a while, she suddenly hears someone coming... a sleigh -drives up with harness bells; she hears him coming! He comes in, -just in the shape of a man, like an officer- comes in and sits down to -table with her." - -"Ah! ah!" screamed Natasha, rolling her eyes with horror. - -"Yes? And how... did he speak?" - -"Yes, like a man. Everything quite all right, and he began -persuading her; and she should have kept him talking till cockcrow, -but she got frightened, just got frightened and hid her face in her -hands. Then he caught her up. It was lucky the maids ran in just -then..." - -"Now, why frighten them?" said Pelageya Danilovna. - -"Mamma, you used to try your fate yourself..." said her daughter. - -"And how does one do it in a barn?" inquired Sonya. - -"Well, say you went to the barn now, and listened. It depends on -what you hear; hammering and knocking- that's bad; but a sound of -shifting grain is good and one sometimes hears that, too." - -"Mamma, tell us what happened to you in the barn." - -Pelageya Danilovna smiled. - -"Oh, I've forgotten..." she replied. "But none of you would go?" - -"Yes, I will; Pelageya Danilovna, let me! I'll go," said Sonya. - -"Well, why not, if you're not afraid?" - -"Louisa Ivanovna, may I?" asked Sonya. - -Whether they were playing the ring and string game or the ruble game -or talking as now, Nicholas did not leave Sonya's side, and gazed at -her with quite new eyes. It seemed to him that it was only today, -thanks to that burnt-cork mustache, that he had fully learned to -know her. And really, that evening, Sonya was brighter, more animated, -and prettier than Nicholas had ever seen her before. - -"So that's what she is like; what a fool I have been!" he thought -gazing at her sparkling eyes, and under the mustache a happy rapturous -smile dimpled her cheeks, a smile he had never seen before. - -"I'm not afraid of anything," said Sonya. "May I go at once?" She -got up. - -They told her where the barn was and how she should stand and -listen, and they handed her a fur cloak. She threw this over her -head and shoulders and glanced at Nicholas. - -"What a darling that girl is!" thought he. "And what have I been -thinking of till now?" - -Sonya went out into the passage to go to the barn. Nicholas went -hastily to the front porch, saying he felt too hot. The crowd of -people really had made the house stuffy. - -Outside, there was the same cold stillness and the same moon, but -even brighter than before. The light was so strong and the snow -sparkled with so many stars that one did not wish to look up at the -sky and the real stars were unnoticed. The sky was black and dreary, -while the earth was gay. - -"I am a fool, a fool! what have I been waiting for?" thought -Nicholas. and running out from the porch he went round the corner of -the house and along the path that led to the back porch. He knew Sonya -would pass that way. Halfway lay some snow-covered piles of firewood -and across and along them a network of shadows from the bare old -lime trees fell on the snow and on the path. This path led to the -barn. The log walls of the barn and its snow-covered roof, that looked -as if hewn out of some precious stone, sparkled in the moonlight. A -tree in the garden snapped with the frost, and then all was again -perfectly silent. His bosom seemed to inhale not air but the -strength of eternal youth and gladness. - -From the back porch came the sound of feet descending the steps, the -bottom step upon which snow had fallen gave a ringing creak and he -heard the voice of an old maidservant saying, "Straight, straight, -along the path, Miss. Only, don't look back." - -"I am not afraid," answered Sonya's voice, and along the path toward -Nicholas came the crunching, whistling sound of Sonya's feet in her -thin shoes. - -Sonya came along, wrapped in her cloak. She was only a couple of -paces away when she saw him, and to her too he was not the Nicholas -she had known and always slightly feared. He was in a woman's dress, -with tousled hair and a happy smile new to Sonya. She ran rapidly -toward him. - -"Quite different and yet the same," thought Nicholas, looking at her -face all lit up by the moonlight. He slipped his arms under the -cloak that covered her head, embraced her, pressed her to him, and -kissed her on the lips that wore a mustache and had a smell of burnt -cork. Sonya kissed him full on the lips, and disengaging her little -hands pressed them to his cheeks. - -"Sonya!... Nicholas!"... was all they said. They ran to the barn and -then back again, re-entering, he by the front and she by the back -porch. - -CHAPTER XII - -When they all drove back from Pelageya Danilovna's, Natasha, who -always saw and noticed everything, arranged that she and Madame Schoss -should go back in the sleigh with Dimmler, and Sonya with Nicholas and -the maids. - -On the way back Nicholas drove at a steady pace instead of racing -and kept peering by that fantastic all-transforming light into Sonya's -face and searching beneath the eyebrows and mustache for his former -and his present Sonya from whom he had resolved never to be parted -again. He looked and recognizing in her both the old and the new -Sonya, and being reminded by the smell of burnt cork of the -sensation of her kiss, inhaled the frosty air with a full breast -and, looking at the ground flying beneath him and at the sparkling -sky, felt himself again in fairyland. - -"Sonya, is it well with thee?" he asked from time to time. - -"Yes!" she replied. "And with thee?" - -When halfway home Nicholas handed the reins to the coachman and -ran for a moment to Natasha's sleigh and stood on its wing. - -"Natasha!" he whispered in French, "do you know I have made up my -mind about Sonya?" - -"Have you told her?" asked Natasha, suddenly beaming all over with -joy. - -"Oh, how strange you are with that mustache and those eyebrows!... -Natasha- are you glad?" - -"I am so glad, so glad! I was beginning to be vexed with you. I -did not tell you, but you have been treating her badly. What a heart -she has, Nicholas! I am horrid sometimes, but I was ashamed to be -happy while Sonya was not," continued Natasha. "Now I am so glad! -Well, run back to her." - -"No, wait a bit.... Oh, how funny you look!" cried Nicholas, peering -into her face and finding in his sister too something new, unusual, -and bewitchingly tender that he had not seen in her before. -"Natasha, it's magical, isn't it?" - -"Yes," she replied. "You have done splendidly." - -"Had I seen her before as she is now," thought Nicholas, "I should -long ago have asked her what to do and have done whatever she told me, -and all would have been well." - -"So you are glad and I have done right?" - -"Oh, quite right! I had a quarrel with Mamma some time ago about it. -Mamma said she was angling for you. How could she say such a thing! -I nearly stormed at Mamma. I will never let anyone say anything bad of -Sonya, for there is nothing but good in her." - -"Then it's all right?" said Nicholas, again scrutinizing the -expression of his sister's face to see if she was in earnest. Then -he jumped down and, his boots scrunching the snow, ran back to his -sleigh. The same happy, smiling Circassian, with mustache and -beaming eyes looking up from under a sable hood, was still sitting -there, and that Circassian was Sonya, and that Sonya was certainly his -future happy and loving wife. - -When they reached home and had told their mother how they had -spent the evening at the Melyukovs', the girls went to their -bedroom. When they had undressed, but without washing off the cork -mustaches, they sat a long time talking of their happiness. They -talked of how they would live when they were married, how their -husbands would be friends, and how happy they would be. On Natasha's -table stood two looking glasses which Dunyasha had prepared -beforehand. - -"Only when will all that be? I am afraid never.... It would be too -good!" said Natasha, rising and going to the looking glasses. - -"Sit down, Natasha; perhaps you'll see him," said Sonya. - -Natasha lit the candles, one on each side of one of the looking -glasses, and sat down. - -"I see someone with a mustache," said Natasha, seeing her own face. - -"You mustn't laugh, Miss," said Dunyasha. - -With Sonya's help and the maid's, Natasha got the glass she held -into the right position opposite the other; her face assumed a serious -expression and she sat silent. She sat a long time looking at the -receding line of candles reflected in the glasses and expecting -(from tales she had heard) to see a coffin, or him, Prince Andrew, -in that last dim, indistinctly outlined square. But ready as she was -to take the smallest speck for the image of a man or of a coffin, -she saw nothing. She began blinking rapidly and moved away from the -looking glasses. - -"Why is it others see things and I don't?" she said. "You sit down -now, Sonya. You absolutely must, tonight! Do it for me.... Today I -feel so frightened!" - -Sonya sat down before the glasses, got the right position, and began -looking. - -"Now, Miss Sonya is sure to see something," whispered Dunyasha; -"while you do nothing but laugh." - -Sonya heard this and Natasha's whisper: - -"I know she will. She saw something last year." - -For about three minutes all were silent. - -"Of course she will!" whispered Natasha, but did not finish... -suddenly Sonya pushed away the glass she was holding and covered her -eyes with her hand. - -"Oh, Natasha!" she cried. - -"Did you see? Did you? What was it?" exclaimed Natasha, holding up -the looking glass. - -Sonya had not seen anything, she was just wanting to blink and to -get up when she heard Natasha say, "Of course she will!" She did not -wish to disappoint either Dunyasha or Natasha, but it was hard to -sit still. She did not herself know how or why the exclamation escaped -her when she covered her eyes. - -"You saw him?" urged Natasha, seizing her hand. - -"Yes. Wait a bit... I... saw him," Sonya could not help saying, -not yet knowing whom Natasha meant by him, Nicholas or Prince Andrew. - -"But why shouldn't I say I saw something? Others do see! Besides who -can tell whether I saw anything or not?" flashed through Sonya's mind. - -"Yes, I saw him," she said. - -"How? Standing or lying?" - -"No, I saw... At first there was nothing, then I saw him lying -down." - -"Andrew lying? Is he ill?" asked Natasha, her frightened eyes -fixed on her friend. - -"No, on the contrary, on the contrary! His face was cheerful, and he -turned to me." And when saying this she herself fancied she had really -seen what she described. - -"Well, and then, Sonya?..." - -"After that, I could not make out what there was; something blue and -red..." - -"Sonya! When will he come back? When shall I see him! O, God, how -afraid I am for him and for myself and about everything!..." Natasha -began, and without replying to Sonya's words of comfort she got into -bed, and long after her candle was out lay open-eyed and motionless, -gazing at the moonlight through the frosty windowpanes. - -CHAPTER XIII - -Soon after the Christmas holidays Nicholas told his mother of his -love for Sonya and of his firm resolve to marry her. The countess, who -had long noticed what was going on between them and was expecting this -declaration, listened to him in silence and then told her son that -he might marry whom he pleased, but that neither she nor his father -would give their blessing to such a marriage. Nicholas, for the -first time, felt that his mother was displeased with him and that, -despite her love for him, she would not give way. Coldly, without -looking at her son, she sent for her husband and, when he came, -tried briefly and coldly to inform him of the facts, in her son's -presence, but unable to restrain herself she burst into tears of -vexation and left the room. The old count began irresolutely to -admonish Nicholas and beg him to abandon his purpose. Nicholas replied -that he could not go back on his word, and his father, sighing and -evidently disconcerted, very soon became silent and went in to the -countess. In all his encounters with his son, the count was always -conscious of his own guilt toward him for having wasted the family -fortune, and so he could not be angry with him for refusing to marry -an heiress and choosing the dowerless Sonya. On this occasion, he -was only more vividly conscious of the fact that if his affairs had -not been in disorder, no better wife for Nicholas than Sonya could -have been wished for, and that no one but himself with his Mitenka and -his uncomfortable habits was to blame for the condition of the -family finances. - -The father and mother did not speak of the matter to their son -again, but a few days later the countess sent for Sonya and, with a -cruelty neither of them expected, reproached her niece for trying to -catch Nicholas and for ingratitude. Sonya listened silently with -downcast eyes to the countess' cruel words, without understanding what -was required of her. She was ready to sacrifice everything for her -benefactors. Self-sacrifice was her most cherished idea but in this -case she could not see what she ought to sacrifice, or for whom. She -could not help loving the countess and the whole Rostov family, but -neither could she help loving Nicholas and knowing that his -happiness depended on that love. She was silent and sad and did not -reply. Nicholas felt the situation to be intolerable and went to -have an explanation with his mother. He first implored her to -forgive him and Sonya and consent to their marriage, then he -threatened that if she molested Sonya he would at once marry her -secretly. - -The countess, with a coldness her son had never seen in her -before, replied that he was of age, that Prince Andrew was marrying -without his father's consent, and he could do the same, but that she -would never receive that intriguer as her daughter. - -Exploding at the word intriguer, Nicholas, raising his voice, told -his mother he had never expected her to try to force him to sell his -feelings, but if that were so, he would say for the last time.... -But he had no time to utter the decisive word which the expression -of his face caused his mother to await with terror, and which would -perhaps have forever remained a cruel memory to them both. He had -not time to say it, for Natasha, with a pale and set face, entered the -room from the door at which she had been listening. - -"Nicholas, you are talking nonsense! Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, I -tell you!..." she almost screamed, so as to drown his voice. - -"Mamma darling, it's not at all so... my poor, sweet darling," she -said to her mother, who conscious that they had been on the brink of a -rupture gazed at her son with terror, but in the obstinacy and -excitement of the conflict could not and would not give way. - -"Nicholas, I'll explain to you. Go away! Listen, Mamma darling," -said Natasha. - -Her words were incoherent, but they attained the purpose at which -she was aiming. - -The countess, sobbing heavily, hid her face on her daughter's -breast, while Nicholas rose, clutching his head, and left the room. - -Natasha set to work to effect a reconciliation, and so far succeeded -that Nicholas received a promise from his mother that Sonya should not -be troubled, while he on his side promised not to undertake anything -without his parents' knowledge. - -Firmly resolved, after putting his affairs in order in the regiment, -to retire from the army and return and marry Sonya, Nicholas, serious, -sorrowful, and at variance with his parents, but, as it seemed to him, -passionately in love, left at the beginning of January to rejoin his -regiment. - -After Nicholas had gone things in the Rostov household were more -depressing than ever, and the countess fell ill from mental agitation. - -Sonya was unhappy at the separation from Nicholas and still more -so on account of the hostile tone the countess could not help adopting -toward her. The count was more perturbed than ever by the condition of -his affairs, which called for some decisive action. Their town house -and estate near Moscow had inevitably to be sold, and for this they -had to go to Moscow. But the countess' health obliged them to delay -their departure from day to day. - -Natasha, who had borne the first period of separation from her -betrothed lightly and even cheerfully, now grew more agitated and -impatient every day. The thought that her best days, which she would -have employed in loving him, were being vainly wasted, with no -advantage to anyone, tormented her incessantly. His letters for the -most part irritated her. It hurt her to think that while she lived -only in the thought of him, he was living a real life, seeing new -places and new people that interested him. The more interesting his -letters were the more vexed she felt. Her letters to him, far from -giving her any comfort, seemed to her a wearisome and artificial -obligation. She could not write, because she could not conceive the -possibility of expressing sincerely in a letter even a thousandth part -of what she expressed by voice, smile, and glance. She wrote to him -formal, monotonous, and dry letters, to which she attached no -importance herself, and in the rough copies of which the countess -corrected her mistakes in spelling. - -There was still no improvement in the countess' health, but it was -impossible to defer the journey to Moscow any longer. Natasha's -trousseau had to be ordered and the house sold. Moreover, Prince -Andrew was expected in Moscow, where old Prince Bolkonski was spending -the winter, and Natasha felt sure he had already arrived. - -So the countess remained in the country, and the count, taking Sonya -and Natasha with him, went to Moscow at the end of January. - -BOOK EIGHT: 1811 - 12 - -CHAPTER I - -After Prince Andrews engagement to Natasha, Pierre without any -apparent cause suddenly felt it impossible to go on living as -before. Firmly convinced as he was of the truths revealed to him by -his benefactor, and happy as he had been in perfecting his inner -man, to which he had devoted himself with such ardor- all the zest -of such a life vanished after the engagement of Andrew and Natasha and -the death of Joseph Alexeevich, the news of which reached him almost -at the same time. Only the skeleton of life remained: his house, a -brilliant wife who now enjoyed the favors of a very important -personage, acquaintance with all Petersburg, and his court service -with its dull formalities. And this life suddenly seemed to Pierre -unexpectedly loathsome. He ceased keeping a diary, avoided the company -of the Brothers, began going to the Club again, drank a great deal, -and came once more in touch with the bachelor sets, leading such a -life that the Countess Helene thought it necessary to speak severely -to him about it. Pierre felt that she right, and to avoid compromising -her went away to Moscow. - -In Moscow as soon as he entered his huge house in which the faded -and fading princesses still lived, with its enormous retinue; as -soon as, driving through the town, he saw the Iberian shrine with -innumerable tapers burning before the golden covers of the icons, -the Kremlin Square with its snow undisturbed by vehicles, the sleigh -drivers and hovels of the Sivtsev Vrazhok, those old Moscovites who -desired nothing, hurried nowhere, and were ending their days -leisurely; when he saw those old Moscow ladies, the Moscow balls, -and the English Club, he felt himself at home in a quiet haven. In -Moscow he felt at peace, at home, warm and dirty as in an old dressing -gown. - -Moscow society, from the old women down to the children, received -Pierre like a long-expected guest whose place was always ready -awaiting him. For Moscow society Pierre was the nicest, kindest, -most intellectual, merriest, and most magnanimous of cranks, a -heedless, genial nobleman of the old Russian type. His purse was -always empty because it was open to everyone. - -Benefit performances, poor pictures, statues, benevolent -societies, gypsy choirs, schools, subscription dinners, sprees, -Freemasons, churches, and books- no one and nothing met with a refusal -from him, and had it not been for two friends who had borrowed large -sums from him and taken him under their protection, he would have -given everything away. There was never a dinner or soiree at the -Club without him. As soon as he sank into his place on the sofa -after two bottles of Margaux he was surrounded, and talking, -disputing, and joking began. When there were quarrels, his kindly -smile and well-timed jests reconciled the antagonists. The Masonic -dinners were dull and dreary when he was not there. - -When after a bachelor supper he rose with his amiable and kindly -smile, yielding to the entreaties of the festive company to drive -off somewhere with them, shouts of delight and triumph arose among the -young men. At balls he danced if a partner was needed. Young ladies, -married and unmarried, liked him because without making love to any of -them, he was equally amiable to all, especially after supper. "Il -est charmant; il n'a pas de sexe,"~{ "He is charming; he has no sex." }~ they said of him. - -Pierre was one of those retired gentlemen-in-waiting of whom there -were hundreds good-humoredly ending their days in Moscow. - -How horrified he would have been seven years before, when he first -arrived from abroad, had he been told that there was no need for him -to seek or plan anything, that his rut had long been shaped, eternally -predetermined, and that wriggle as he might, he would be what all in -his position were. He could not have believed it! Had he not at one -time longed with all his heart to establish a republic in Russia; then -himself to be a Napoleon; then to be a philosopher; and then a -strategist and the conqueror of Napoleon? Had he not seen the -possibility of, and passionately desired, the regeneration of the -sinful human race, and his own progress to the highest degree of -perfection? Had he not established schools and hospitals and liberated -his serfs? - -But instead of all that- here he was, the wealthy husband of an -unfaithful wife, a retired gentleman-in-waiting, fond of eating and -drinking and, as he unbuttoned his waistcoat, of abusing the -government a bit, a member of the Moscow English Club, and a universal -favorite in Moscow society. For a long time he could not reconcile -himself to the idea that he was one of those same retired Moscow -gentlemen-in-waiting he had so despised seven years before. - -Sometimes he consoled himself with the thought that he was only -living this life temporarily; but then he was shocked by the thought -of how many, like himself, had entered that life and that Club -temporarily, with all their teeth and hair, and had only left it -when not a single tooth or hair remained. - -In moments of pride, when he thought of his position it seemed to -him that he was quite different and distinct from those other -retired gentlemen-in-waiting he had formerly despised: they were -empty, stupid, contented fellows, satisfied with their position, -"while I am still discontented and want to do something for mankind. -But perhaps all these comrades of mine struggled just like me and -sought something new, a path in life of their own, and like me were -brought by force of circumstances, society, and race- by that -elemental force against which man is powerless- to the condition I -am in," said he to himself in moments of humility; and after living -some time in Moscow he no longer despised, but began to grow fond -of, to respect, and to pity his comrades in destiny, as he pitied -himself. - -Pierre longer suffered moments of despair, hypochondria, and disgust -with life, but the malady that had formerly found expression in such -acute attacks was driven inwards and never left him for a moment. -"What for? Why? What is going on in the world?" he would ask himself -in perplexity several times a day, involuntarily beginning to -reflect anew on the meaning of the phenomena of life; but knowing by -experience that there were no answers to these questions he made haste -to turn away from them, and took up a book, or hurried of to the -Club or to Apollon Nikolaevich's, to exchange the gossip of the town. - -"Helene, who has never cared for anything but her own body and is -one of the stupidest women in the world," thought Pierre, "is regarded -by people as the acme of intelligence and refinement, and they pay -homage to her. Napoleon Bonaparte was despised by all as long as he -was great, but now that he has become a wretched comedian the -Emperor Francis wants to offer him his daughter in an illegal -marriage. The Spaniards, through the Catholic clergy, offer praise -to God for their victory over the French on the fourteenth of June, -and the French, also through the Catholic clergy, offer praise because -on that same fourteenth of June they defeated the Spaniards. My -brother Masons swear by the blood that they are ready to sacrifice -everything for their neighbor, but they do not give a ruble each to -the collections for the poor, and they intrigue, the Astraea Lodge -against the Manna Seekers, and fuss about an authentic Scotch carpet -and a charter that nobody needs, and the meaning of which the very man -who wrote it does not understand. We all profess the Christian law -of forgiveness of injuries and love of our neighbors, the law in honor -of which we have built in Moscow forty times forty churches- but -yesterday a deserter was knouted to death and a minister of that -same law of love and forgiveness, a priest, gave the soldier a cross -to kiss before his execution." So thought Pierre, and the whole of -this general deception which everyone accepts, accustomed as he was to -it, astonished him each time as if it were something new. "I -understand the deception and confusion," he thought, "but how am I -to tell them all that I see? I have tried, and have always found -that they too in the depths of their souls understand it as I do, -and only try not to see it. So it appears that it must be so! But I- -what is to become of me?" thought he. He had the unfortunate -capacity many men, especially Russians, have of seeing and believing -in the possibility of goodness and truth, but of seeing the evil and -falsehood of life too clearly to be able to take a serious part in it. -Every sphere of work was connected, in his eyes, with evil and -deception. Whatever he tried to be, whatever he engaged in, the evil -and falsehood of it repulsed him and blocked every path of activity. -Yet he had to live and to find occupation. It was too dreadful to be -under the burden of these insoluble problems, so he abandoned -himself to any distraction in order to forget them. He frequented -every kind of society, drank much, bought pictures, engaged in -building, and above all- read. - -He read, and read everything that came to hand. On coming home, -while his valets were still taking off his things, he picked up a book -and began to read. From reading he passed to sleeping, from sleeping -to gossip in drawing rooms of the Club, from gossip to carousals and -women; from carousals back to gossip, reading, and wine. Drinking -became more and more a physical and also a moral necessity. Though the -doctors warned him that with his corpulence wine was dangerous for -him, he drank a great deal. He was only quite at ease when having -poured several glasses of wine mechanically into his large mouth he -felt a pleasant warmth in his body, an amiability toward all his -fellows, and a readiness to respond superficially to every idea -without probing it deeply. Only after emptying a bottle or two did -he feel dimly that the terribly tangled skein of life which previously -had terrified him was not as dreadful as he had thought. He was always -conscious of some aspect of that skein, as with a buzzing in his -head after dinner or supper he chatted or listened to conversation -or read. But under the influence of wine he said to himself: "It -doesn't matter. I'll get it unraveled. I have a solution ready, but -have no time now- I'll think it all out later on!" But the later on -never came. - -In the morning, on an empty stomach, all the old questions -appeared as insoluble and terrible as ever, and Pierre hastily -picked up a book, and if anyone came to see him he was glad. - -Sometimes he remembered how he had heard that soldiers in war when -entrenched under the enemy's fire, if they have nothing to do, try -hard to find some occupation the more easily to bear the danger. To -Pierre all men seemed like those soldiers, seeking refuge from life: -some in ambition, some in cards, some in framing laws, some in -women, some in toys, some in horses, some in politics, some in -sport, some in wine, and some in governmental affairs. "Nothing is -trivial, and nothing is important, it's all the same- only to save -oneself from it as best one can," thought Pierre. "Only not to see it, -that dreadful it!" - -CHAPTER II - -At the beginning of winter Prince Nicholas Bolkonski and his -daughter moved to Moscow. At that time enthusiasm for the Emperor -Alexander's regime had weakened and a patriotic and anti-French -tendency prevailed there, and this, together with his past and his -intellect and his originality, at once made Prince Nicholas -Bolkonski an object of particular respect to the Moscovites and the -center of the Moscow opposition to the government. - -The prince had aged very much that year. He showed marked signs of -senility by a tendency to fall asleep, forgetfulness of quite recent -events, remembrance of remote ones, and the childish vanity with which -he accepted the role of head of the Moscow opposition. In spite of -this the old man inspired in all his visitors alike a feeling of -respectful veneration- especially of an evening when he came in to tea -in his old-fashioned coat and powdered wig and, aroused by anyone, -told his abrupt stories of the past, or uttered yet more abrupt and -scathing criticisms of the present. For them all, that old-fashioned -house with its gigantic mirrors, pre-Revolution furniture, powdered -footmen, and the stern shrewd old man (himself a relic of the past -century) with his gentle daughter and the pretty Frenchwoman who -were reverently devoted to him presented a majestic and agreeable -spectacle. But the visitors did not reflect that besides the couple of -hours during which they saw their host, there were also twenty-two -hours in the day during which the private and intimate life of the -house continued. - -Latterly that private life had become very trying for Princess Mary. -There in Moscow she was deprived of her greatest pleasures- talks with -the pilgrims and the solitude which refreshed her at Bald Hills- and -she had none of the advantages and pleasures of city life. She did not -go out into society; everyone knew that her father would not let her -go anywhere without him, and his failing health prevented his going -out himself, so that she was not invited to dinners and evening -parties. She had quite abandoned the hope of getting married. She -saw the coldness and malevolence with which the old prince received -and dismissed the young men, possible suitors, who sometimes -appeared at their house. She had no friends: during this visit to -Moscow she had been disappointed in the two who had been nearest to -her. Mademoiselle Bourienne, with whom she had never been able to be -quite frank, had now become unpleasant to her, and for various reasons -Princess Mary avoided her. Julie, with whom she had corresponded for -the last five years, was in Moscow, but proved to be quite alien to -her when they met. Just then Julie, who by the death of her brothers -had become one of the richest heiresses in Moscow, was in the full -whirl of society pleasures. She was surrounded by young men who, she -fancied, had suddenly learned to appreciate her worth. Julie was at -that stage in the life of a society woman when she feels that her last -chance of marrying has come and that her fate must be decided now or -never. On Thursdays Princess Mary remembered with a mournful smile -that she now had no one to write to, since Julie- whose presence -gave her no pleasure was here and they met every week. Like the old -emigre who declined to marry the lady with whom he had spent his -evenings for years, she regretted Julie's presence and having no one -to write to. In Moscow Princess Mary had no one to talk to, no one -to whom to confide her sorrow, and much sorrow fell to her lot just -then. The time for Prince Andrew's return and marriage was -approaching, but his request to her to prepare his father for it had -not been carried out; in fact, it seemed as if matters were quite -hopeless, for at every mention of the young Countess Rostova the old -prince (who apart from that was usually in a bad temper) lost -control of himself. Another lately added sorrow arose from the lessons -she gave her six year-old nephew. To her consternation she detected in -herself in relation to little Nicholas some symptoms of her father's -irritability. However often she told herself that she must not get -irritable when teaching her nephew, almost every time that, pointer in -hand, she sat down to show him the French alphabet, she so longed to -pour her own knowledge quickly and easily into the child- who was -already afraid that Auntie might at any moment get angry- that at -his slightest inattention she trembled, became flustered and heated, -raised her voice, and sometimes pulled him by the arm and put him in -the corner. Having put him in the corner she would herself begin to -cry over her cruel, evil nature, and little Nicholas, following her -example, would sob, and without permission would leave his corner, -come to her, pull her wet hands from her face, and comfort her. But -what distressed the princess most of all was her father's -irritability, which was always directed against her and had of late -amounted to cruelty. Had he forced her to prostrate herself to the -ground all night, had he beaten her or made her fetch wood or water, -it would never have entered her mind to think her position hard; but -this loving despot- the more cruel because he loved her and for that -reason tormented himself and her- knew how not merely to hurt and -humiliate her deliberately, but to show her that she was always to -blame for everything. Of late he had exhibited a new trait that -tormented Princess Mary more than anything else; this was his -ever-increasing intimacy with Mademoiselle Bourienne. The idea that at -the first moment of receiving the news of his son's intentions had -occurred to him in jest- that if Andrew got married he himself would -marry Bourienne- had evidently pleased him, and latterly he had -persistently, and as it seemed to Princess Mary merely to offend -her, shown special endearments to the companion and expressed his -dissatisfaction with his daughter by demonstrations of love of -Bourienne. - -One day in Moscow in Princess Mary's presence (she thought her -father did it purposely when she was there) the old prince kissed -Mademoiselle Bourienne's hand and, drawing her to him, embraced her -affectionately. Princess Mary flushed and ran out of the room. A few -minutes later Mademoiselle Bourienne came into Princess Mary's room -smiling and making cheerful remarks in her agreeable voice. Princess -Mary hastily wiped away her tears, went resolutely up to -Mademoiselle Bourienne, and evidently unconscious of what she was -doing began shouting in angry haste at the Frenchwoman, her voice -breaking: "It's horrible, vile, inhuman, to take advantage of the -weakness..." She did not finish. "Leave my room," she exclaimed, and -burst into sobs. - -Next day the prince did not say a word to his daughter, but she -noticed that at dinner he gave orders that Mademoiselle Bourienne -should be served first. After dinner, when the footman handed coffee -and from habit began with the princess, the prince suddenly grew -furious, threw his stick at Philip, and instantly gave instructions to -have him conscripted for the army. - -"He doesn't obey... I said it twice... and he doesn't obey! She is -the first person in this house; she's my best friend," cried the -prince. "And if you allow yourself," he screamed in a fury, addressing -Princess Mary for the first time, "to forget yourself again before her -as you dared to do yesterday, I will show you who is master in this -house. Go! Don't let me set eyes on you; beg her pardon!" - -Princess Mary asked Mademoiselle Bourienne's pardon, and also her -father's pardon for herself and for Philip the footman, who had begged -for her intervention. - -At such moments something like a pride of sacrifice gathered in -her soul. And suddenly that father whom she had judged would look -for his spectacles in her presence, fumbling near them and not -seeing them, or would forget something that had just occurred, or take -a false step with his failing legs and turn to see if anyone had -noticed his feebleness, or, worst of all, at dinner when there were no -visitors to excite him would suddenly fall asleep, letting his -napkin drop and his shaking head sink over his plate. "He is old and -feeble, and I dare to condemn him!" she thought at such moments, -with a feeling of revulsion against herself. - -CHAPTER III - -In 1811 there was living in Moscow a French doctor- Metivier- who -had rapidly become the fashion. He was enormously tall, handsome, -amiable as Frenchmen are, and was, as all Moscow said, an -extraordinarily clever doctor. He was received in the best houses -not merely as a doctor, but as an equal. - -Prince Nicholas had always ridiculed medicine, but latterly on -Mademoiselle Bourienne's advice had allowed this doctor to visit him -and had grown accustomed to him. Metivier came to see the prince about -twice a week. - -On December 6- St. Nicholas' Day and the prince's name day- all -Moscow came to the prince's front door but he gave orders to admit -no one and to invite to dinner only a small number, a list of whom -he gave to Princess Mary. - -Metivier, who came in the morning with his felicitations, considered -it proper in his quality of doctor de forcer la consigne,~{ To force the guard. }~ as he -told Princess Mary, and went in to see the prince. It happened that on -that morning of his name day the prince was in one of his worst moods. -He had been going about the house all the morning finding fault with -everyone and pretending not to understand what was said to him and not -to be understood himself. Princess Mary well knew this mood of quiet -absorbed querulousness, which generally culminated in a burst of rage, -and she went about all that morning as though facing a cocked and -loaded gun and awaited the inevitable explosion. Until the doctor's -arrival the morning had passed off safely. After admitting the doctor, -Princess Mary sat down with a book in the drawing room near the door -through which she could hear all that passed in the study. - -At first she heard only Metivier's voice, then her father's, then -both voices began speaking at the same time, the door was flung -open, and on the threshold appeared the handsome figure of the -terrified Metivier with his shock of black hair, and the prince in his -dressing gown and fez, his face distorted with fury and the pupils -of his eyes rolled downwards. - -"You don't understand?" shouted the prince, "but I do! French spy, -slave of Buonaparte, spy, get out of my house! Be off, I tell you..." - -Metivier, shrugging his shoulders, went up to Mademoiselle Bourienne -who at the sound of shouting had run in from an adjoining room. - -"The prince is not very well: bile and rush of blood to the head. -Keep calm, I will call again tomorrow," said Metivier; and putting his -fingers to his lips he hastened away. - -Through the study door came the sound of slippered feet and the cry: -"Spies, traitors, traitors everywhere! Not a moment's peace in my -own house!" - -After Metivier's departure the old prince called his daughter in, -and the whole weight of his wrath fell on her. She was to blame that a -spy had been admitted. Had he not told her, yes, told her to make a -list, and not to admit anyone who was not on that list? Then why was -that scoundrel admitted? She was the cause of it all. With her, he -said, he could not have a moment's peace and could not die quietly. - -"No, ma'am! We must part, we must part! Understand that, -understand it! I cannot endure any more," he said, and left the -room. Then, as if afraid she might find some means of consolation, -he returned and trying to appear calm added: "And don't imagine I have -said this in a moment of anger. I am calm. I have thought it over, and -it will be carried out- we must part; so find some place for -yourself...." But he could not restrain himself and with the virulence -of which only one who loves is capable, evidently suffering himself, -he shook his fists at her and screamed: - -"If only some fool would marry her!" Then he slammed the door, -sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne, and subsided into his study. - -At two o'clock the six chosen guests assembled for dinner. - -These guests- the famous Count Rostopchin, Prince Lopukhin with -his nephew, General Chatrov an old war comrade of the prince's, and of -the younger generation Pierre and Boris Drubetskoy- awaited the prince -in the drawing room. - -Boris, who had come to Moscow on leave a few days before, had been -anxious to be presented to Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, and had -contrived to ingratiate himself so well that the old prince in his -case made an exception to the rule of not receiving bachelors in his -house. - -The prince's house did not belong to what is known as fashionable -society, but his little circle- though not much talked about in -town- was one it was more flattering to be received in than any other. -Boris had realized this the week before when the commander in chief in -his presence invited Rostopchin to dinner on St. Nicholas' Day, and -Rostopchin had replied that he could not come: - -"On that day I always go to pay my devotions to the relics of Prince -Nicholas Bolkonski." - -"Oh, yes, yes!" replied the commander in chief. "How is he?..." - -The small group that assembled before dinner in the lofty -old-fashioned drawing room with its old furniture resembled the solemn -gathering of a court of justice. All were silent or talked in low -tones. Prince Nicholas came in serious and taciturn. Princess Mary -seemed even quieter and more diffident than usual. The guests were -reluctant to address her, feeling that she was in no mood for their -conversation. Count Rostopchin alone kept the conversation going, -now relating the latest town news, and now the latest political -gossip. - -Lopukhin and the old general occasionally took part in the -conversation. Prince Bolkonski listened as a presiding judge -receives a report, only now and then, silently or by a brief word, -showing that he took heed of what was being reported to him. The -tone of the conversation was such as indicated that no one approved of -what was being done in the political world. Incidents were related -evidently confirming the opinion that everything was going from bad to -worse, but whether telling a story or giving an opinion the speaker -always stopped, or was stopped, at the point beyond which his -criticism might touch the sovereign himself. - -At dinner the talk turned on the latest political news: Napoleon's -seizure of the Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and the Russian Note, -hostile to Napoleon, which had been sent to all the European courts. - -"Bonaparte treats Europe as a pirate does a captured vessel," said -Count Rostopchin, repeating a phrase he had uttered several times -before. "One only wonders at the long-suffering or blindness of the -crowned heads. Now the Pope's turn has come and Bonaparte doesn't -scruple to depose the head of the Catholic Church- yet all keep -silent! Our sovereign alone has protested against the seizure of the -Duke of Oldenburg's territory, and even..." Count Rostopchin paused, -feeling that he had reached the limit beyond which censure was -impossible. - -"Other territories have been offered in exchange for the Duchy of -Oldenburg," said Prince Bolkonski. "He shifts the Dukes about as I -might move my serfs from Bald Hills to Bogucharovo or my Ryazan -estates." - -"The Duke of Oldenburg bears his misfortunes with admirable strength -of character and resignation," remarked Boris, joining in -respectfully. - -He said this because on his journey from Petersburg he had had the -honor of being presented to the Duke. Prince Bolkonski glanced at -the young man as if about to say something in reply, but changed his -mind, evidently considering him too young. - -"I have read our protests about the Oldenburg affair and was -surprised how badly the Note was worded," remarked Count Rostopchin in -the casual tone of a man dealing with a subject quite familiar to him. - -Pierre looked at Rostopchin with naive astonishment, not -understanding why he should be disturbed by the bad composition of the -Note. - -"Does it matter, Count, how the Note is worded," he asked, "so -long as its substance is forcible?" - -"My dear fellow, with our five hundred thousand troops it should -be easy to have a good style," returned Count Rostopchin. - -Pierre now understood the count's dissatisfaction with the wording -of the Note. - -"One would have thought quill drivers enough had sprung up," -remarked the old prince. "There in Petersburg they are always writing- -not notes only but even new laws. My Andrew there has written a -whole volume of laws for Russia. Nowadays they are always writing!" -and he laughed unnaturally. - -There was a momentary pause in the conversation; the old general -cleared his throat to draw attention. - -"Did you hear of the last event at the review in Petersburg? The -figure cut by the new French ambassador." - -"Eh? Yes, I heard something: he said something awkward in His -Majesty's presence." - -"His Majesty drew attention to the Grenadier division and to the -march past," continued the general, "and it seems the ambassador -took no notice and allowed himself to reply that: 'We in France pay no -attention to such trifles!' The Emperor did not condescend to reply. -At the next review, they say, the Emperor did not once deign to -address him." - -All were silent. On this fact relating to the Emperor personally, it -was impossible to pass any judgment. - -"Impudent fellows!" said the prince. "You know Metivier? I turned -him out of my house this morning. He was here; they admitted him spite -of my request that they should let no one in," he went on, glancing -angrily at his daughter. - -And he narrated his whole conversation with the French doctor and -the reasons that convinced him that Metivier was a spy. Though these -reasons were very insufficient and obscure, no one made any rejoinder. - -After the roast, champagne was served. The guests rose to -congratulate the old prince. Princess Mary, too, went round to him. - -He gave her a cold, angry look and offered her his wrinkled, -clean-shaven cheek to kiss. The whole expression of his face told -her that he had not forgotten the morning's talk, that his decision -remained in force, and only the presence of visitors hindered his -speaking of it to her now. - -When they went into the drawing room where coffee was served, the -old men sat together. - -Prince Nicholas grew more animated and expressed his views on the -impending war. - -He said that our wars with Bonaparte would be disastrous so long -as we sought alliances with the Germans and thrust ourselves into -European affairs, into which we had been drawn by the Peace of Tilsit. -"We ought not to fight either for or against Austria. Our political -interests are all in the East, and in regard to Bonaparte the only -thing is to have an armed frontier and a firm policy, and he will -never dare to cross the Russian frontier, as was the case in 1807!" - -"How can we fight the French, Prince?" said Count Rostopchin. "Can -we arm ourselves against our teachers and divinities? Look at our -youths, look at our ladies! The French are our Gods: Paris is our -Kingdom of Heaven." - -He began speaking louder, evidently to be heard by everyone. - -"French dresses, French ideas, French feelings! There now, you -turned Metivier out by the scruff of his neck because he is a -Frenchman and a scoundrel, but our ladies crawl after him on their -knees. I went to a party last night, and there out of five ladies -three were Roman Catholics and had the Pope's indulgence for doing -woolwork on Sundays. And they themselves sit there nearly naked, -like the signboards at our Public Baths if I may say so. Ah, when -one looks at our young people, Prince, one would like to take Peter -the Great's old cudgel out of the museum and belabor them in the -Russian way till all the nonsense jumps out of them." - -All were silent. The old prince looked at Rostopchin with a smile -and wagged his head approvingly. - -"Well, good-by, your excellency, keep well!" said Rostopchin, -getting up with characteristic briskness and holding out his hand to -the prince. - -"Good-by, my dear fellow.... His words are music, I never tire of -hearing him!" said the old prince, keeping hold of the hand and -offering his cheek to be kissed. - -Following Rostopchin's example the others also rose. - -CHAPTER IV - -Princess Mary as she sat listening to the old men's talk and -faultfinding, understood nothing of what she heard; she only -wondered whether the guests had all observed her father's hostile -attitude toward her. She did not even notice the special attentions -and amiabilities shown her during dinner by Boris Drubetskoy, who -was visiting them for the third time already. - -Princess Mary turned with absent-minded questioning look to -Pierre, who hat in hand and with a smile on his face was the last of -the guests to approach her after the old prince had gone out and -they were left alone in the drawing room. - -"May I stay a little longer?" he said, letting his stout body sink -into an armchair beside her. - -"Oh yes," she answered. "You noticed nothing?" her look asked. - -Pierre was in an agreeable after-dinner mood. He looked straight -before him and smiled quietly. - -"Have you known that young man long, Princess?" he asked. - -"Who?" - -"Drubetskoy." - -"No, not long..." - -"Do you like him?" - -"Yes, he is an agreeable young man.... Why do you ask me that?" said -Princess Mary, still thinking of that morning's conversation with -her father. - -"Because I have noticed that when a young man comes on leave from -Petersburg to Moscow it is usually with the object of marrying an -heiress." - -"You have observed that?" said Princess Mary. - -"Yes," returned Pierre with a smile, "and this young man now manages -matters so that where there is a wealthy heiress there he is too. I -can read him like a book. At present he is hesitating whom to lay -siege to- you or Mademoiselle Julie Karagina. He is very attentive -to her." - -"He visits them?" - -"Yes, very often. And do you know the new way of courting?" said -Pierre with an amused smile, evidently in that cheerful mood of good -humored raillery for which he so often reproached himself in his -diary. - -"No," replied Princess Mary. - -"To please Moscow girls nowadays one has to be melancholy. He is -very melancholy with Mademoiselle Karagina," said Pierre. - -"Really?" asked Princess Mary, looking into Pierre's kindly face and -still thinking of her own sorrow. "It would be a relief," thought she, -"if I ventured to confide what I am feeling to someone. I should -like to tell everything to Pierre. He is kind and generous. It would -be a relief. He would give me advice." - -"Would you marry him?" - -"Oh, my God, Count, there are moments when I would marry anybody!" -she cried suddenly to her own surprise and with tears in her voice. -"Ah, how bitter it is to love someone near to you and to feel that..." -she went on in a trembling voice, "that you can do nothing for him but -grieve him, and to know that you cannot alter this. Then there is only -one thing left- to go away, but where could I go?" - -"What is wrong? What is it, Princess?" - -But without finishing what she was saying, Princess Mary burst -into tears. - -"I don't know what is the matter with me today. Don't take any -notice- forget what I have said!" - -Pierre's gaiety vanished completely. He anxiously questioned the -princess, asked her to speak out fully and confide her grief to him; -but she only repeated that she begged him to forget what she had said, -that she did not remember what she had said, and that she had no -trouble except the one he knew of- that Prince Andrew's marriage -threatened to cause a rupture between father and son. - -"Have you any news of the Rostovs?" she asked, to change the -subject. "I was told they are coming soon. I am also expecting -Andrew any day. I should like them to meet here." - -"And how does he now regard the matter?" asked Pierre, referring -to the old prince. - -Princess Mary shook her head. - -"What is to be done? In a few months the year will be up. The -thing is impossible. I only wish I could spare my brother the first -moments. I wish they would come sooner. I hope to be friends with her. -You have known them a long time," said Princess Mary. "Tell me -honestly the whole truth: what sort of girl is she, and what do you -think of her?- The real truth, because you know Andrew is risking so -much doing this against his father's will that I should like to -know..." - -An undefined instinct told Pierre that these explanations, and -repeated requests to be told the whole truth, expressed ill-will on -the princess' part toward her future sister-in-law and a wish that -he should disapprove of Andrew's choice; but in reply he said what -he felt rather than what he thought. - -"I don't know how to answer your question," he said, blushing -without knowing why. "I really don't know what sort of girl she is; -I can't analyze her at all. She is enchanting, but what makes her so I -don't know. That is all one can say about her." - -Princess Mary sighed, and the expression on her face said: "Yes, -that's what I expected and feared." - -"Is she clever?" she asked. - -Pierre considered. - -"I think not," he said, "and yet- yes. She does not deign to be -clever.... Oh no, she is simply enchanting, and that is all." - -Princess Mary again shook her head disapprovingly. - -"Ah, I so long to like her! Tell her so if you see her before I do." - -"I hear they are expected very soon," said Pierre. - -Princess Mary told Pierre of her plan to become intimate with her -future sister-in-law as soon as the Rostovs arrived and to try to -accustom the old prince to her. - -CHAPTER V - -Boris had not succeeded in making a wealthy match in Petersburg, -so with the same object in view he came to Moscow. There he wavered -between the two richest heiresses, Julie and Princess Mary. Though -Princess Mary despite her plainness seemed to him more attractive than -Julie, he, without knowing why, felt awkward about paying court to -her. When they had last met on the old prince's name day, she had -answered at random all his attempts to talk sentimentally, evidently -not listening to what he was saying. - -Julie on the contrary accepted his attentions readily, though in a -manner peculiar to herself. - -She was twenty-seven. After the death of her brothers she had become -very wealthy. She was by now decidedly plain, but thought herself -not merely as good-looking as before but even far more attractive. She -was confirmed in this delusion by the fact that she had become a -very wealthy heiress and also by the fact that the older she grew -the less dangerous she became to men, and the more freely they could -associate with her and avail themselves of her suppers, soirees, and -the animated company that assembled at her house, without incurring -any obligation. A man who would have been afraid ten years before of -going every day to the house when there was a girl of seventeen there, -for fear of compromising her and committing himself, would now go -boldly every day and treat her not as a marriageable girl but as a -sexless acquaintance. - -That winter the Karagins' house was the most agreeable and -hospitable in Moscow. In addition to the formal evening and dinner -parties, a large company, chiefly of men, gathered there every day, -supping at midnight and staying till three in the morning. Julie never -missed a ball, a promenade, or a play. Her dresses were always of -the latest fashion. But in spite of that she seemed to be -disillusioned about everything and told everyone that she did not -believe either in friendship or in love, or any of the joys of life, -and expected peace only "yonder." She adopted the tone of one who -has suffered a great disappointment, like a girl who has either lost -the man she loved or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of -the kind had happened to her she was regarded in that light, and had -even herself come to believe that she had suffered much in life. -This melancholy, which did not prevent her amusing herself, did not -hinder the young people who came to her house from passing the time -pleasantly. Every visitor who came to the house paid his tribute to -the melancholy mood of the hostess, and then amused himself with -society gossip, dancing, intellectual games, and bouts rimes, which -were in vogue at the Karagins'. Only a few of these young men, among -them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with -these she had prolonged conversations in private on the vanity of -all worldly things, and to them she showed her albums filled with -mournful sketches, maxims, and verses. - -To Boris, Julie was particularly gracious: she regretted his early -disillusionment with life, offered him such consolation of -friendship as she who had herself suffered so much could render, and -showed him her album. Boris sketched two trees in the album and wrote: -"Rustic trees, your dark branches shed gloom and melancholy upon me." - -On another page he drew a tomb, and wrote: - -``` block - La mort est secourable et la mort est tranquille. -Ah! contre les douleurs il n'y a pas d'autre asile.~{ Death gives relief and death is peaceful. }~ -``` - -_1 Ah! from suffering there is no other refuge. - -Julia said this was charming - -"There is something so enchanting in the smile of melancholy," she -said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage she had copied from a -book. "It is a ray of light in the darkness, a shade between sadness -and despair, showing the possibility of consolation." - -In reply Boris wrote these lines: - -``` block - Aliment de poison d'une ame trop sensible, -Toi, sans qui le bonheur me serait impossible, -Tendre melancholie, ah, viens me consoler, -Viens calmer les tourments de ma sombre retraite, -Et mele une douceur secrete -A ces pleurs que je sens couler.~{ Poisonous nourishment of a too sensitive soul, }~ -``` - -_1 Thou, without whom happiness would for me be impossible, - -_1 Tender melancholy, ah, come to console me, - -_1 Come to calm the torments of my gloomy retreat, - -_1 And mingle a secret sweetness - -_1 With these tears that I feel to be flowing. - -For Boris, Julie played most doleful nocturnes on her harp. Boris -read Poor Liza aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the -reading because of the emotions that choked him. Meeting at large -gatherings Julie and Boris looked on one another as the only souls who -understood one another in a world of indifferent people. - -Anna Mikhaylovna, who often visited the Karagins, while playing -cards with the mother made careful inquiries as to Julie's dowry -(she was to have two estates in Penza and the Nizhegorod forests). -Anna Mikhaylovna regarded the refined sadness that united her son to -the wealthy Julie with emotion, and resignation to the Divine will. - -"You are always charming and melancholy, my dear Julie," she said to -the daughter. "Boris says his soul finds repose at your house. He -has suffered so many disappointments and is so sensitive," said she to -the mother. "Ah, my dear, I can't tell you how fond I have grown of -Julie latterly," she said to her son. "But who could help loving -her? She is an angelic being! Ah, Boris, Boris!"- she paused. "And how -I pity her mother," she went on; "today she showed me her accounts and -letters from Penza (they have enormous estates there), and she, poor -thing, has no one to help her, and they do cheat her so!" - -Boris smiled almost imperceptibly while listening to his mother. -He laughed blandly at her naive diplomacy but listened to what she had -to say, and sometimes questioned her carefully about the Penza and -Nizhegorod estates. - -Julie had long been expecting a proposal from her melancholy -adorer and was ready to accept it; but some secret feeling of -repulsion for her, for her passionate desire to get married, for her -artificiality, and a feeling of horror at renouncing the possibility -of real love still restrained Boris. His leave was expiring. He -spent every day and whole days at the Karagins', and every day on -thinking the matter over told himself that he would propose -tomorrow. But in Julie's presence, looking at her red face and chin -(nearly always powdered), her moist eyes, and her expression of -continual readiness to pass at once from melancholy to an unnatural -rapture of married bliss, Boris could not utter the decisive words, -though in imagination he had long regarded himself as the possessor of -those Penza and Nizhegorod estates and had apportioned the use of -the income from them. Julie saw Boris' indecision, and sometimes the -thought occurred to her that she was repulsive to him, but her -feminine self-deception immediately supplied her with consolation, and -she told herself that he was only shy from love. Her melancholy, -however, began to turn to irritability, and not long before Boris' -departure she formed a definite plan of action. Just as Boris' leave -of absence was expiring, Anatole Kuragin made his appearance in -Moscow, and of course in the Karagins' drawing room, and Julie, -suddenly abandoning her melancholy, became cheerful and very attentive -to Kuragin. - -"My dear," said Anna Mikhaylovna to her son, "I know from a reliable -source that Prince Vasili has sent his son to Moscow to get him -married to Julie. I am so fond of Julie that I should be sorry for -her. What do you think of it, my dear?" - -The idea of being made a fool of and of having thrown away that -whole month of arduous melancholy service to Julie, and of seeing -all the revenue from the Penza estates which he had already mentally -apportioned and put to proper use fall into the hands of another, -and especially into the hands of that idiot Anatole, pained Boris. -He drove to the Karagins' with the firm intention of proposing. -Julie met him in a gay, careless manner, spoke casually of how she had -enjoyed yesterday's ball, and asked when he was leaving. Though -Boris had come intentionally to speak of his love and therefore -meant to be tender, he began speaking irritably of feminine -inconstancy, of how easily women can turn from sadness to joy, and how -their moods depend solely on who happens to be paying court to them. -Julie was offended and replied that it was true that a woman needs -variety, and the same thing over and over again would weary anyone. - -"Then I should advise you..." Boris began, wishing to sting her; but -at that instant the galling thought occurred to him that he might have -to leave Moscow without having accomplished his aim, and have vainly -wasted his efforts- which was a thing he never allowed to happen. - -He checked himself in the middle of the sentence, lowered his eyes -to avoid seeing her unpleasantly irritated and irresolute face, and -said: - -"I did not come here at all to quarrel with you. On the contrary..." - -He glanced at her to make sure that he might go on. Her irritability -had suddenly quite vanished, and her anxious, imploring eyes were -fixed on him with greedy expectation. "I can always arrange so as -not to see her often," thought Boris. "The affair has been begun and -must be finished!" He blushed hotly, raised his eyes to hers, and -said: - -"You know my feelings for you!" - -There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and -self-satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on -such occasions- that he loved her and had never loved any other -woman more than her. She knew that for the Penza estates and -Nizhegorod forests she could demand this, and she received what she -demanded. - -The affianced couple, no longer alluding to trees that shed gloom -and melancholy upon them, planned the arrangements of a splendid house -in Petersburg, paid calls, and prepared everything for a brilliant -wedding. - -CHAPTER VI - -At the end of January old Count Rostov went to Moscow with Natasha -and Sonya. The countess was still unwell and unable to travel but it -was impossible to wait for her recovery. Prince Andrew was expected in -Moscow any day, the trousseau had to be ordered and the estate near -Moscow had to be sold, besides which the opportunity of presenting his -future daughter-in-law to old Prince Bolkonski while he was in -Moscow could not be missed. The Rostovs' Moscow house had not been -heated that winter and, as they had come only for a short time and the -countess was not with them, the count decided to stay with Marya -Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, who had long been pressing her hospitality -on them. - -Late one evening the Rostovs' four sleighs drove into Marya -Dmitrievna's courtyard in the old Konyusheny street. Marya -Dmitrievna lived alone. She had already married off her daughter, -and her sons were all in the service. - -She held herself as erect, told everyone her opinion as candidly, -loudly, and bluntly as ever, and her whole bearing seemed a reproach -to others for any weakness, passion, or temptation- the possibility of -which she did not admit. From early in the morning, wearing a dressing -jacket, she attended to her household affairs, and then she drove out: -on holy days to church and after the service to jails and prisons on -affairs of which she never spoke to anyone. On ordinary days, after -dressing, she received petitioners of various classes, of whom there -were always some. Then she had dinner, a substantial and appetizing -meal at which there were always three or four guests; after dinner she -played a game of boston, and at night she had the newspapers or a -new book read to her while she knitted. She rarely made an exception -and went out to pay visits, and then only to the most important -persons in the town. - -She had not yet gone to bed when the Rostovs arrived and the -pulley of the hall door squeaked from the cold as it let in the -Rostovs and their servants. Marya Dmitrievna, with her spectacles -hanging down on her nose and her head flung back, stood in the hall -doorway looking with a stern, grim face at the new arrivals. One might -have thought she was angry with the travelers and would immediately -turn them out, had she not at the same time been giving careful -instructions to the servants for the accommodation of the visitors and -their belongings. - -"The count's things? Bring them here," she said, pointing to the -portmanteaus and not greeting anyone. "The young ladies'? There to the -left. Now what are you dawdling for?" she cried to the maids. "Get the -samovar ready!... You've grown plumper and prettier," she remarked, -drawing Natasha (whose cheeks were glowing from the cold) to her by -the hood. "Foo! You are cold! Now take off your things, quick!" she -shouted to the count who was going to kiss her hand. "You're half -frozen, I'm sure! Bring some rum for tea!... Bonjour, Sonya dear!" she -added, turning to Sonya and indicating by this French greeting her -slightly contemptuous though affectionate attitude toward her. - -When they came in to tea, having taken off their outdoor things -and tidied themselves up after their journey, Marya Dmitrievna -kissed them all in due order. - -"I'm heartily glad you have come and are staying with me. It was -high time," she said, giving Natasha a significant look. "The old -man is here and his son's expected any day. You'll have to make his -aquaintance. But we'll speak of that later on," she added, glancing at -Sonya with a look that showed she did not want to speak of it in her -presence. "Now listen," she said to the count. "What do you want -tomorrow? Whom will you send for? Shinshin?" she crooked one of her -fingers. "The sniveling Anna Mikhaylovna? That's two. She's here -with her son. The son is getting married! Then Bezukhov, eh? He is -here too, with his wife. He ran away from her and she came galloping -after him. He dined with me on Wednesday. As for them"- and she -pointed to the girls- "tomorrow I'll take them first to the Iberian -shrine of the Mother of God, and then we'll drive to the -Super-Rogue's. I suppose you'll have everything new. Don't judge by -me: sleeves nowadays are this size! The other day young Princess Irina -Vasilevna came to see me; she was an awful sight- looked as if she had -put two barrels on her arms. You know not a day passes now without -some new fashion.... And what have you to do yourself?" she asked -the count sternly. - -"One thing has come on top of another: her rags to buy, and now a -purchaser has turned up for the Moscow estate and for the house. If -you will be so kind, I'll fix a time and go down to the estate just -for a day, and leave my lassies with you." - -"All right. All right. They'll be safe with me, as safe as in -Chancery! I'll take them where they must go, scold them a bit, and pet -them a bit," said Marya Dmitrievna, touching her goddaughter and -favorite, Natasha, on the cheek with her large hand. - -Next morning Marya Dmitrievna took the young ladies to the Iberian -shrine of the Mother of God and to Madame Suppert-Roguet, who was so -afraid of Marya Dmitrievna that she always let her have costumes at -a loss merely to get rid of her. Marya Dmitrievna ordered almost the -whole trousseau. When they got home she turned everybody out of the -room except Nataisha, and then called her pet to her armchair. - -"Well, now we'll talk. I congratulate you on your betrothed. -You've hooked a fine fellow! I am glad for your sake and I've known -him since he was so high." She held her hand a couple of feet from the -ground. Natasha blushed happily. "I like him and all his family. Now -listen! You know that old Prince Nicholas much dislikes his son's -marrying. The old fellow's crotchety! Of course Prince Andrew is not a -child and can shift without him, but it's not nice to enter a family -against a father's will. One wants to do it peacefully and lovingly. -You're a clever girl and you'll know how to manage. Be kind, and use -your wits. Then all will be well." - -Natasha remained silent, from shyness Marya Dmitrievna supposed, but -really because she disliked anyone interfering in what touched her -love of Prince Andrew, which seemed to her so apart from all human -affairs that no one could understand it. She loved and knew Prince -Andrew, he loved her only, and was to come one of these days and -take her. She wanted nothing more. - -"You see I have known him a long time and am also fond of Mary, your -future sister-in-law. 'Husbands' sisters bring up blisters,' but -this one wouldn't hurt a fly. She has asked me to bring you two -together. Tomorrow you'll go with your father to see her. Be very nice -and affectionate to her: you're younger than she. When he comes, he'll -find you already know his sister and father and are liked by them. -Am I right or not? Won't that be best?" - -"Yes, it will," Natasha answered reluctantly. - -CHAPTER VII - -Next day, by Marya Dmitrievna's advice, Count Rostov took Natasha to -call on Prince Nicholas Bolkonski. The count did not set out -cheerfully on this visit, at heart he felt afraid. He well -remembered the last interview he had had with the old prince at the -time of the enrollment, when in reply to an invitation to dinner he -had had to listen to an angry reprimand for not having provided his -full quota of men. Natasha, on the other hand, having put on her -best gown, was in the highest spirits. "They can't help liking me," -she thought. "Everybody always has liked me, and I am so willing to do -anything they wish, so ready to be fond of him- for being his -father- and of her- for being his sister- that there is no reason -for them not to like me..." - -They drove up to the gloomy old house on the Vozdvizhenka and -entered the vestibule. - -"Well, the Lord have mercy on us!" said the count, half in jest, -half in earnest; but Natasha noticed that her father was flurried on -entering the anteroom and inquired timidly and softly whether the -prince and princess were at home. - -When they had been announced a perturbation was noticeable among the -servants. The footman who had gone to announce them was stopped by -another in the large hall and they whispered to one another. Then a -maidservant ran into the hall and hurriedly said something, mentioning -the princess. At last an old, cross looking footman came and announced -to the Rostovs that the prince was not receiving, but that the -princess begged them to walk up. The first person who came to meet the -visitors was Mademoiselle Bourienne. She greeted the father and -daughter with special politeness and showed them to the princess' -room. The princess, looking excited and nervous, her face flushed in -patches, ran in to meet the visitors, treading heavily, and vainly -trying to appear cordial and at ease. From the first glance Princess -Mary did not like Natasha. She thought her too fashionably dressed, -frivolously gay and vain. She did not at all realize that before -having seen her future sister-in-law she was prejudiced against her by -involuntary envy of her beauty, youth, and happiness, as well as by -jealousy of her brother's love for her. Apart from this insuperable -antipathy to her, Princess Mary was agitated just then because on -the Rostovs' being announced, the old prince had shouted that he did -not wish to see them, that Princess Mary might do so if she chose, but -they were not to be admitted to him. She had decided to receive -them, but feared lest the prince might at any moment indulge in some -freak, as he seemed much upset by the Rostovs' visit. - -"There, my dear princess, I've brought you my songstress," said -the count, bowing and looking round uneasily as if afraid the old -prince might appear. "I am so glad you should get to know one -another... very sorry the prince is still ailing," and after a few -more commonplace remarks he rose. "If you'll allow me to leave my -Natasha in your hands for a quarter of an hour, Princess, I'll drive -round to see Anna Semenovna, it's quite near in the Dogs' Square, -and then I'll come back for her." - -The count had devised this diplomatic ruse (as he afterwards told -his daughter) to give the future sisters-in-law an opportunity to talk -to one another freely, but another motive was to avoid the danger of -encountering the old prince, of whom he was afraid. He did not mention -this to his daughter, but Natasha noticed her father's nervousness and -anxiety and felt mortified by it. She blushed for him, grew still -angrier at having blushed, and looked at the princess with a bold -and defiant expression which said that she was not afraid of -anybody. The princess told the count that she would be delighted, -and only begged him to stay longer at Anna Semenovna's, and he -departed. - -Despite the uneasy glances thrown at her by Princess Mary- who -wished to have a tete-a-tete with Natasha- Mademoiselle Bourienne -remained in the room and persistently talked about Moscow amusements -and theaters. Natasha felt offended by the hesitation she had -noticed in the anteroom, by her father's nervousness, and by the -unnatural manner of the princess who- she thought- was making a -favor of receiving her, and so everything displeased her. She did -not like Princess Mary, whom she thought very plain, affected, and -dry. Natasha suddenly shrank into herself and involuntarily assumed an -offhand air which alienated Princess Mary still more. After five -minutes of irksome, constrained conversation, they heard the sound -of slippered feet rapidly approaching. Princess Mary looked -frightened. - -The door opened and the old prince, in a dress, ing gown and a white -nightcap, came in. - -"Ah, madam!" he began. "Madam, Countess... Countess Rostova, if I am -not mistaken... I beg you to excuse me, to excuse me... I did not -know, madam. God is my witness, I did not know you had honored us with -a visit, and I came in such a costume only to see my daughter. I beg -you to excuse me... God is my witness, I didn't know-" he repeated, -stressing the word "God" so unnaturally and so unpleasantly that -Princess Mary stood with downcast eyes not daring to look either at -her father or at Natasha. - -Nor did the latter, having risen and curtsied, know what to do. -Mademoiselle Bourienne alone smiled agreeably. - -"I beg you to excuse me, excuse me! God is my witness, I did not -know," muttered the old man, and after looking Natasha over from -head to foot he went out. - -Mademoiselle Bourienne was the first to recover herself after this -apparition and began speaking about the prince's indisposition. -Natasha and Princess Mary looked at one another in silence, and the -longer they did so without saying what they wanted to say, the greater -grew their antipathy to one another. - -When the count returned, Natasha was impolitely pleased and hastened -to get away: at that moment she hated the stiff, elderly princess, who -could place her in such an embarrassing position and had spent half an -hour with her without once mentioning Prince Andrew. "I couldn't begin -talking about him in the presence of that Frenchwoman," thought -Natasha. The same thought was meanwhile tormenting Princess Mary. -She knew what she ought to have said to Natasha, but she had been -unable to say it because Mademoiselle Bourienne was in the way, and -because, without knowing why, she felt it very difficult to speak of -the marriage. When the count was already leaving the room, Princess -Mary went up hurriedly to Natasha, took her by the hand, and said with -a deep sigh: - -"Wait, I must..." - -Natasha glanced at her ironically without knowing why. - -"Dear Natalie," said Princess Mary, "I want you to know that I am -glad my brother has found happiness...." - -She paused, feeling that she was not telling the truth. Natasha -noticed this and guessed its reason. - -"I think, Princess, it is not convenient to speak of that now," -she said with external dignity and coldness, though she felt the tears -choking her. - -"What have I said and what have I done?" thought she, as soon as she -was out of the room. - -They waited a long time for Natasha to come to dinner that day. -She sat in her room crying like a child, blowing her nose and sobbing. -Sonya stood beside her, kissing her hair. - -"Natasha, what is it about?" she asked. "What do they matter to you? -It will all pass, Natasha." - -"But if you only knew how offensive it was... as if I..." - -"Don't talk about it, Natasha. It wasn't your fault so why should -you mind? Kiss me," said Sonya. - -Natasha raised her head and, kissing her friend on the lips, pressed -her wet face against her. - -"I can't tell you, I don't know. No one's to blame," said Natasha- -"It's my fault. But it all hurts terribly. Oh, why doesn't he -come?..." - -She came in to dinner with red eyes. Marya Dmitrievna, who knew -how the prince had received the Rostovs, pretended not to notice how -upset Natasha was and jested resolutely and loudly at table with the -count and the other guests. - -CHAPTER VIII - -That evening the Rostovs went to the Opera, for which Marya -Dmitrievna had taken a box. - -Natasha did not want to go, but could not refuse Marya -Dmitrievna's kind offer which was intended expressly for her. When she -came ready dressed into the ballroom to await her father, and -looking in the large mirror there saw that she was pretty, very -pretty, she felt even more sad, but it was a sweet, tender sadness. - -"O God, if he were here now I would not behave as I did then, but -differently. I would not be silly and afraid of things, I would simply -embrace him, cling to him, and make him look at me with those -searching inquiring eyes with which he has so often looked at me, -and then I would make him laugh as he used to laugh. And his eyes- how -I see those eyes!" thought Natasha. "And what do his father and sister -matter to me? I love him alone, him, him, with that face and those -eyes, with his smile, manly and yet childlike.... No, I had better not -think of him; not think of him but forget him, quite forget him for -the present. I can't bear this waiting and I shall cry in a minute!" -and she turned away from the glass, making an effort not to cry. -"And how can Sonya love Nicholas so calmly and quietly and wait so -long and so patiently?" thought she, looking at Sonya, who also came -in quite ready, with a fan in her hand. "No, she's altogether -different. I can't!" - -Natasha at that moment felt so softened and tender that it was not -enough for her to love and know she was beloved, she wanted now, at -once, to embrace the man she loved, to speak and hear from him words -of love such as filled her heart. While she sat in the carriage beside -her father, pensively watching the lights of the street lamps -flickering on the frozen window, she felt still sadder and more in -love, and forgot where she was going and with whom. Having fallen into -the line of carriages, the Rostovs' carriage drove up to the -theater, its wheels squeaking over the snow. Natasha and Sonya, -holding up their dresses, jumped out quickly. The count got out helped -by the footmen, and, passing among men and women who were entering and -the program sellers, they all three went along the corridor to the -first row of boxes. Through the closed doors the music was already -audible. - -"Natasha, your hair!..." whispered Sonya. - -An attendant deferentially and quickly slipped before the ladies and -opened the door of their box. The music sounded louder and through the -door rows of brightly lit boxes in which ladies sat with bare arms and -shoulders, and noisy stalls brilliant with uniforms, glittered -before their eyes. A lady entering the next box shot a glance of -feminine envy at Natasha. The curtain had not yet risen and the -overture was being played. Natasha, smoothing her gown, went in with -Sonya and sat down, scanning the brilliant tiers of boxes opposite. -A sensation she had not experienced for a long time- that of -hundreds of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck- suddenly -affected her both agreeably and disagreeably and called up a whole -crowd of memories, desires and emotions associated with that feeling. - -The two remarkably pretty girls, Natasha and Sonya, with Count -Rostov who had not been seen in Moscow for a long time, attracted -general attention. Moreover, everybody knew vaguely of Natasha's -engagement to Prince Andrew, and knew that the Rostovs had lived in -the country ever since, and all looked with curiosity at a fiancee who -was making one of the best matches in Russia. - -Natasha's looks, as everyone told her, had improved in the -country, and that evening thanks to her agitation she was particularly -pretty. She struck those who saw her by her fullness of life and -beauty, combined with her indifference to everything about her. Her -black eyes looked at the crowd without seeking anyone, and her -delicate arm, bare to above the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of the -box, while, evidently unconsciously, she opened and closed her hand in -time to the music, crumpling her program. "Look, there's Alenina," -said Sonya, "with her mother, isn't it?" - -"Dear me, Michael Kirilovich has grown still stouter!" remarked -the count. - -"Look at our Anna Mikhaylovna- what a headdress she has on!" - -"The Karagins, Julie- and Boris with them. One can see at once -that they're engaged...." - -"Drubetskoy has proposed?" - -"Oh yes, I heard it today," said Shinshin, coming into the -Rostovs' box. - -Natasha looked in the direction in which her father's eyes were -turned and saw Julie sitting beside her mother with a happy look on -her face and a string of pearls round her thick red neck- which -Natasha knew was covered with powder. Behind them, wearing a smile and -leaning over with an ear to Julie's mouth, was Boris' handsome -smoothly brushed head. He looked the Rostovs from under his brows -and said something, smiling, to his betrothed. - -"They are talking about us, about me and him!" thought Natasha. "And -he no doubt is calming her jealousy of me. They needn't trouble -themselves! If only they knew how little I am concerned about any of -them." - -Behind them sat Anna Mikhaylovna wearing a green headdress and -with a happy look of resignation to the will of God on her face. Their -box was pervaded by that atmosphere of an affianced couple which -Natasha knew so well and liked so much. She turned away and suddenly -remembered all that had been so humiliating in her morning's visit. - -"What right has he not to wish to receive me into his family? Oh, -better not think of it- not till he comes back!" she told herself, and -began looking at the faces, some strange and some familiar, in the -stalls. In the front, in the very center, leaning back against the -orchestra rail, stood Dolokhov in a Persian dress, his curly hair -brushed up into a huge shock. He stood in full view of the audience, -well aware that he was attracting everyone's attention, yet as much at -ease as though he were in his own room. Around him thronged Moscow's -most brilliant young men, whom he evidently dominated. - -The count, laughing, nudged the blushing Sonya and pointed to her -former adorer. - -"Do you recognize him?" said he. "And where has he sprung from?" -he asked, turning to Shinshin. "Didn't he vanish somewhere?" - -"He did," replied Shinshin. "He was in the Caucasus and ran away -from there. They say he has been acting as minister to some ruling -prince in Persia, where he killed the Shah's brother. Now all the -Moscow ladies are mad about him! It's 'Dolokhov the Persian' that does -it! We never hear a word but Dolokhov is mentioned. They swear by him, -they offer him to you as they would a dish of choice sterlet. Dolokhov -and Anatole Kuragin have turned all our ladies' heads." - -A tall, beautiful woman with a mass of plaited hair and much exposed -plump white shoulders and neck, round which she wore a double string -of large pearls, entered the adjoining box rustling her heavy silk -dress and took a long time settling into her place. - -Natasha involuntarily gazed at that neck, those shoulders, and -pearls and coiffure, and admired the beauty of the shoulders and the -pearls. While Natasha was fixing her gaze on her for the second time -the lady looked round and, meeting the count's eyes, nodded to him and -smiled. She was the Countess Bezukhova, Pierre's wife, and the -count, who knew everyone in society, leaned over and spoke to her. - -"Have you been here long, Countess?" he inquired. "I'll call, I'll -call to kiss your hand. I'm here on business and have brought my girls -with me. They say Semenova acts marvelously. Count Pierre never used -to forget us. Is he here?" - -"Yes, he meant to look in," answered Helene, and glanced attentively -at Natasha. - -Count Rostov resumed his seat. - -"Handsome, isn't she?" he whispered to Natasha. - -"Wonderful!" answered Natasha. "She's a woman one could easily -fall in love with." - -Just then the last chords of the overture were heard and the -conductor tapped with his stick. Some latecomers took their seats in -the stalls, and the curtain rose. - -As soon as it rose everyone in the boxes and stalls became silent, -and all the men, old and young, in uniform and evening dress, and -all the women with gems on their bare flesh, turned their whole -attention with eager curiosity to the stage. Natasha too began to look -at it. - -CHAPTER IX - -The floor of the stage consisted of smooth boards, at the sides -was some painted cardboard representing trees, and at the back was a -cloth stretched over boards. In the center of the stage sat some girls -in red bodices and white skirts. One very fat girl in a white silk -dress sat apart on a low bench, to the back of which a piece of -green cardboard was glued. They all sang something. When they had -finished their song the girl in white went up to the prompter's box -and a man with tight silk trousers over his stout legs, and holding -a plume and a dagger, went up to her and began singing, waving his -arms about. - -First the man in the tight trousers sang alone, then she sang, -then they both paused while the orchestra played and the man -fingered the hand of the girl in white, obviously awaiting the beat to -start singing with her. They sang together and everyone in the theater -began clapping and shouting, while the man and woman on the stage- who -represented lovers- began smiling, spreading out their arms, and -bowing. - -After her life in the country, and in her present serious mood, -all this seemed grotesque and amazing to Natasha. She could not follow -the opera nor even listen to the music; she saw only the painted -cardboard and the queerly dressed men and women who moved, spoke, -and sang so strangely in that brilliant light. She knew what it was -all meant to represent, but it was so pretentiously false and -unnatural that she first felt ashamed for the actors and then amused -at them. She looked at the faces of the audience, seeking in them -the same sense of ridicule and perplexity she herself experienced, but -they all seemed attentive to what was happening on the stage, and -expressed delight which to Natasha seemed feigned. "I suppose it has -to be like this!" she thought. She kept looking round in turn at the -rows of pomaded heads in the stalls and then at the seminude women -in the boxes, especially at Helene in the next box, who- apparently -quite unclothed- sat with a quiet tranquil smile, not taking her -eyes off the stage. And feeling the bright light that flooded the -whole place and the warm air heated by the crowd, Natasha little by -little began to pass into a state of intoxication she had not -experienced for a long while. She did not realize who and where she -was, nor what was going on before her. As she looked and thought, -the strangest fancies unexpectedly and disconnectedly passed through -her mind: the idea occurred to her of jumping onto the edge of the box -and singing the air the actress was singing, then she wished to -touch with her fan an old gentleman sitting not far from her, then -to lean over to Helene and tickle her. - -At a moment when all was quiet before the commencement of a song, -a door leading to the stalls on the side nearest the Rostovs' box -creaked, and the steps of a belated arrival were heard. "There's -Kuragin!" whispered Shinshin. Countess Bezukhova turned smiling to the -newcomer, and Natasha, following the direction of that look, saw an -exceptionally handsome adjutant approaching their box with a -self-assured yet courteous bearing. This was Anatole Kuragin whom -she had seen and noticed long ago at the ball in Petersburg. He was -now in an adjutant's uniform with one epaulet and a shoulder knot. -He moved with a restrained swagger which would have been ridiculous -had he not been so good-looking and had his handsome face not worn -such an expression of good-humored complacency and gaiety. Though -the performance was proceeding, he walked deliberately down the -carpeted gangway, his sword and spurs slightly jingling and his -handsome perfumed head held high. Having looked at Natasha he -approached his sister, laid his well gloved hand on the edge of her -box, nodded to her, and leaning forward asked a question, with a -motion toward Natasha. - -"Mais charmante!" said he, evidently referring to Natasha, who did -not exactly hear his words but understood them from the movement of -his lips. Then he took his place in the first row of the stalls and -sat down beside Dolokhov, nudging with his elbow in a friendly and -offhand way that Dolokhov whom others treated so fawningly. He -winked at him gaily, smiled, and rested his foot against the orchestra -screen. - -"How like the brother is to the sister," remarked the count. "And -how handsome they both are!" - -Shinshin, lowering his voice, began to tell the count of some -intrigue of Kuragin's in Moscow, and Natasha tried to overhear it just -because he had said she was "charmante." - -The first act was over. In the stalls everyone began moving about, -going out and coming in. - -Boris came to the Rostovs' box, received their congratulations -very simply, and raising his eyebrows with an absent-minded smile -conveyed to Natasha and Sonya his fiancee's invitation to her wedding, -and went away. Natasha with a gay, coquettish smile talked to him, and -congratulated on his approaching wedding that same Boris with whom she -had formerly been in love. In the state of intoxication she was in, -everything seemed simple and natural. - -The scantily clad Helene smiled at everyone in the same way, and -Natasha gave Boris a similar smile. - -Helene's box was filled and surrounded from the stalls by the most -distinguished and intellectual men, who seemed to vie with one another -in their wish to let everyone see that they knew her. - -During the whole of that entr'acte Kuragin stood with Dolokhov in -front of the orchestra partition, looking at the Rostovs' box. Natasha -knew he was talking about her and this afforded her pleasure. She even -turned so that he should see her profile in what she thought was its -most becoming aspect. Before the beginning of the second act Pierre -appeared in the stalls. The Rostovs had not seen him since their -arrival. His face looked sad, and he had grown still stouter since -Natasha last saw him. He passed up to the front rows, not noticing -anyone. Anatole went up to him and began speaking to him, looking at -and indicating the Rostovs' box. On seeing Natasha Pierre grew -animated and, hastily passing between the rows, came toward their box. -When he got there he leaned on his elbows and, smiling, talked to -her for a long time. While conversing with Pierre, Natasha heard a -man's voice in Countess Bezukhova's box and something told her it -was Kuragin. She turned and their eyes met. Almost smiling, he gazed -straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that -it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be -so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him. - -In the second act there was scenery representing tombstones, there -was a round hole in the canvas to represent the moon, shades were -raised over the footlights, and from horns and contrabass came deep -notes while many people appeared from right and left wearing black -cloaks and holding things like daggers in their hands. They began -waving their arms. Then some other people ran in and began dragging -away the maiden who had been in white and was now in light blue. -They did not drag her away at once, but sang with her for a long -time and then at last dragged her off, and behind the scenes something -metallic was struck three times and everyone knelt down and sang a -prayer. All these things were repeatedly interrupted by the -enthusiastic shouts of the audience. - -During this act every time Natasha looked toward the stalls she -saw Anatole Kuragin with an arm thrown across the back of his chair, -staring at her. She was pleased to see that he was captivated by her -and it did not occur to her that there was anything wrong in it. - -When the second act was over Countess Bezukhova rose, turned to -the Rostovs' box- her whole bosom completely exposed- beckoned the old -count with a gloved finger, and paying no attention to those who had -entered her box began talking to him with an amiable smile. - -"Do make me acquainted with your charming daughters," said she. "The -whole town is singing their praises and I don't even know then!" - -Natasha rose and curtsied to the splendid countess. She was so -pleased by praise from this brilliant beauty that she blushed with -pleasure. - -"I want to become a Moscovite too, now," said Helene. "How is it -you're not ashamed to bury such pearls in the country?" - -Countess Bezukhova quite deserved her reputation of being a -fascinating woman. She could say what she did not think- especially -what was flattering- quite simply and naturally. - -"Dear count, you must let me look after your daughters! Though I -am not staying here long this time- nor are you- I will try to amuse -them. I have already heard much of you in Petersburg and wanted to get -to know you," said she to Natasha with her stereotyped and lovely -smile. "I had heard about you from my page, Drubetskoy. Have you heard -he is getting married? And also from my husband's friend Bolkonski, -Prince Andrew Bolkonski," she went on with special emphasis, -implying that she knew of his relation to Natasha. To get better -acquainted she asked that one of the young ladies should come into her -box for the rest of the performance, and Natasha moved over to it. - -The scene of the third act represented a palace in which many -candles were burning and pictures of knights with short beards hung on -the walls. In the middle stood what were probably a king and a -queen. The king waved his right arm and, evidently nervous, sang -something badly and sat down on a crimson throne. The maiden who had -been first in white and then in light blue, now wore only a smock, and -stood beside the throne with her hair down. She sang something -mournfully, addressing the queen, but the king waved his arm severely, -and men and women with bare legs came in from both sides and began -dancing all together. Then the violins played very shrilly and merrily -and one of the women with thick bare legs and thin arms, separating -from the others, went behind the wings, adjusted her bodice, -returned to the middle of the stage, and began jumping and striking -one foot rapidly against the other. In the stalls everyone clapped and -shouted "bravo!" Then one of the men went into a corner of the -stage. The cymbals and horns in the orchestra struck up more loudly, -and this man with bare legs jumped very high and waved his feet -about very rapidly. (He was Duport, who received sixty thousand rubles -a year for this art.) Everybody in the stalls, boxes, and galleries -began clapping and shouting with all their might, and the man -stopped and began smiling and bowing to all sides. Then other men -and women danced with bare legs. Then the king again shouted to the -sound of music, and they all began singing. But suddenly a storm -came on, chromatic scales and diminished sevenths were heard in the -orchestra, everyone ran off, again dragging one of their number -away, and the curtain dropped. Once more there was a terrible noise -and clatter among the audience, and with rapturous faces everyone -began shouting: "Duport! Duport! Duport!" Natasha no longer thought -this strange. She look about with pleasure, smiling joyfully. - -"Isn't Duport delightful?" Helene asked her. - -"Oh, yes," replied Natasha. - -CHAPTER X - -During the entr'acte a whiff of cold air came into Helene's box, the -door opened, and Anatole entered, stooping and trying not to brush -against anyone. - -"Let me introduce my brother to you," said Helene, her eyes shifting -uneasily from Natasha to Anatole. - -Natasha turned her pretty little head toward the elegant young -officer and smiled at him over her bare shoulder. Anatole, who was -as handsome at close quarters as at a distance, sat down beside her -and told her he had long wished to have this happiness- ever since the -Naryshkins' ball in fact, at which he had had the well-remembered -pleasure of seeing her. Kuragin was much more sensible and simple with -women than among men. He talked boldly and naturally, and Natasha -was strangely and agreeably struck by the fact that there was -nothing formidable in this man about whom there was so much talk, -but that on the contrary his smile was most naive, cheerful, and -good-natured. - -Kuragin asked her opinion of the performance and told her how at a -previous performance Semenova had fallen down on the stage. - -"And do you know, Countess," he said, suddenly addressing her as -an old, familiar acquaintance, "we are getting up a costume -tournament; you ought to take part in it! It will be great fun. We -shall all meet at the Karagins'! Please come! No! Really, eh?" said -he. - -While saying this he never removed his smiling eyes from her face, -her neck, and her bare arms. Natasha knew for certain that he was -enraptured by her. This pleased her, yet his presence made her feel -constrained and oppressed. When she was not looking at him she felt -that he was looking at her shoulders, and she involuntarily caught his -eye so that he should look into hers rather than this. But looking -into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that -barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other -men. She did not know how it was that within five minutes she had come -to feel herself terribly near to this man. When she turned away she -feared he might seize her from behind by her bare arm and kiss her -on the neck. They spoke of most ordinary things, yet she felt that -they were closer to one another than she had ever been to any man. -Natasha kept turning to Helene and to her father, as if asking what it -all meant, but Helene was engaged in conversation with a general and -did not answer her look, and her father's eyes said nothing but what -they always said: "Having a good time? Well, I'm glad of it!" - -During one of these moments of awkward silence when Anatole's -prominent eyes were gazing calmly and fixedly at her, Natasha, to -break the silence, asked him how he liked Moscow. She asked the -question and blushed. She felt all the time that by talking to him she -was doing something improper. Anatole smiled as though to encourage -her. - -"At first I did not like it much, because what makes a town pleasant -ce sont les jolies femmes,~{ Are the pretty women. }~ isn't that so? But now I like it very much -indeed," he said, looking at her significantly. "You'll come to the -costume tournament, Countess? Do come!" and putting out his hand to -her bouquet and dropping his voice, he added, "You will be the -prettiest there. Do come, dear countess, and give me this flower as -a pledge!" - -Natasha did not understand what he was saying any more than he did -himself, but she felt that his incomprehensible words had an -improper intention. She did not know what to say and turned away as if -she had not heard his remark. But as soon as she had turned away she -felt that he was there, behind, so close behind her. - -"How is he now? Confused? Angry? Ought I to put it right?" she asked -herself, and she could not refrain from turning round. She looked -straight into his eyes, and his nearness, self-assurance, and the -good-natured tenderness of his smile vanquished her. She smiled just -as he was doing, gazing straight into his eyes. And again she felt -with horror that no barrier lay between him and her. - -The curtain rose again. Anatole left the box, serene and gay. -Natasha went back to her father in the other box, now quite submissive -to the world she found herself in. All that was going on before her -now seemed quite natural, but on the other hand all her previous -thoughts of her betrothed, of Princess Mary, or of life in the country -did not once recur to her mind and were as if belonging to a remote -past. - -In the fourth act there was some sort of devil who sang waving his -arm about, till the boards were withdrawn from under him and he -disappeared down below. That was the only part of the fourth act -that Natasha saw. She felt agitated and tormented, and the cause of -this was Kuragin whom she could not help watching. As they were -leaving the theater Anatole came up to them, called their carriage, -and helped them in. As he was putting Natasha in he pressed her arm -above the elbow. Agitated and flushed she turned round. He was looking -at her with glittering eyes, smiling tenderly. - -Only after she had reached home was Natasha able clearly to think -over what had happened to her, and suddenly remembering Prince -Andrew she was horrified, and at tea to which all had sat down after -the opera, she gave a loud exclamation, flushed, and ran out of the -room. - -"O God! I am lost!" she said to herself. "How could I let him?" -She sat for a long time hiding her flushed face in her hands trying to -realize what had happened to her, but was unable either to -understand what had happened or what she felt. Everything seemed dark, -obscure, and terrible. There in that enormous, illuminated theater -where the bare-legged Duport, in a tinsel-decorated jacket, jumped -about to the music on wet boards, and young girls and old men, and the -nearly naked Helene with her proud, calm smile, rapturously cried -"bravo!"- there in the presence of that Helene it had all seemed clear -and simple; but now, alone by herself, it was incomprehensible. -"What is it? What was that terror I felt of him? What is this -gnawing of conscience I am feeling now?" she thought. - -Only to the old countess at night in bed could Natasha have told all -she was feeling. She knew that Sonya with her severe and simple -views would either not understand it at all or would be horrified at -such a confession. So Natasha tried to solve what was torturing her by -herself. - -"Am I spoiled for Andrew's love or not?" she asked herself, and with -soothing irony replied: "What a fool I am to ask that! What did happen -to me? Nothing! I have done nothing, I didn't lead him on at all. -Nobody will know and I shall never see him again," she told herself. -"So it is plain that nothing has happened and there is nothing to -repent of, and Andrew can love me still. But why 'still?' O God, why -isn't he here?" Natasha quieted herself for a moment, but again some -instinct told her that though all this was true, and though nothing -had happened, yet the former purity of her love for Prince Andrew -had perished. And again in imagination she went over her whole -conversation with Kuragin, and again saw the face, gestures, and -tender smile of that bold handsome man when he pressed her arm. - -CHAPTER XI - -Anatole Kuragin was staying in Moscow because his father had sent -him away from Petersburg, where he had been spending twenty thousand -rubles a year in cash, besides running up debts for as much more, -which his creditors demanded from his father. - -His father announced to him that he would now pay half his debts for -the last time, but only on condition that he went to Moscow as -adjutant to the commander in chief- a post his father had procured for -him- and would at last try to make a good match there. He indicated to -him Princess Mary and Julie Karagina. - -Anatole consented and went to Moscow, where he put up at Pierre's -house. Pierre received him unwillingly at first, but got used to him -after a while, sometimes even accompanied him on his carousals, and -gave him money under the guise of loans. - -As Shinshin had remarked, from the time of his arrival Anatole had -turned the heads of the Moscow ladies, especially by the fact that -he slighted them and plainly preferred the gypsy girls and French -actresses- with the chief of whom, Mademoiselle George, he was said to -be on intimate relations. He had never missed a carousal at -Danilov's or other Moscow revelers', drank whole nights through, -outvying everyone else, and was at all the balls and parties of the -best society. There was talk of his intrigues with some of the ladies, -and he flirted with a few of them at the balls. But he did not run -after the unmarried girls, especially the rich heiresses who were most -of them plain. There was a special reason for this, as he had got -married two years before- a fact known only to his most intimate -friends. At that time while with his regiment in Poland, a Polish -landowner of small means had forced him to marry his daughter. Anatole -had very soon abandoned his wife and, for a payment which he agreed to -send to his father-in-law, had arranged to be free to pass himself off -as a bachelor. - -Anatole was always content with his position, with himself, and with -others. He was instinctively and thoroughly convinced that was -impossible for him to live otherwise than as he did and that he had -never in his life done anything base. He was incapable of -considering how his actions might affect others or what the -consequences of this or that action of his might be. He was -convinced that, as a duck is so made that it must live in water, so -God had made him such that he must spend thirty thousand rubles a year -and always occupy a prominent position in society. He believed this so -firmly that others, looking at him, were persuaded of it too and did -not refuse him either a leading place in society or money, which he -borrowed from anyone and everyone and evidently would not repay. - -He was not a gambler, at any rate he did not care about winning. -He was not vain. He did not mind what people thought of him. Still -less could he be accused of ambition. More than once he had vexed -his father by spoiling his own career, and he laughed at -distinctions of all kinds. He was not mean, and did not refuse -anyone who asked of him. All he cared about was gaiety and women, -and as according to his ideas there was nothing dishonorable in -these tastes, and he was incapable of considering what the -gratification of his tastes entailed for others, he honestly -considered himself irreproachable, sincerely despised rogues and bad -people, and with a tranquil conscience carried his head high. - -Rakes, those male Magdalenes, have a secret feeling of innocence -similar to that which female Magdalenes have, based on the same hope -of forgiveness. "All will be forgiven her, for she loved much; and all -will be forgiven him, for he enjoyed much." - -Dolokhov, who had reappeared that year in Moscow after his exile and -his Persian adventures, and was leading a life of luxury, gambling, -and dissipation, associated with his old Petersburg comrade Kuragin -and made use of him for his own ends. - -Anatole was sincerely fond of Dolokhov for his cleverness and -audacity. Dolokhov, who needed Anatole Kuragin's name, position, and -connections as a bait to draw rich young men into his gambling set, -made use of him and amused himself at his expense without letting -the other feel it. Apart from the advantage he derived from Anatole, -the very process of dominating another's will was in itself a -pleasure, a habit, and a necessity to Dolokhov. - -Natasha had made a strong impression on Kuragin. At supper after the -opera he described to Dolokhov with the air of a connoisseur the -attractions of her arms, shoulders, feet, and hair and expressed his -intention of making love to her. Anatole had no notion and was -incapable of considering what might come of such love-making, as he -never had any notion of the outcome of any of his actions. - -"She's first-rate, my dear fellow, but not for us," replied -Dolokhov. - -"I will tell my sister to ask her to dinner," said Anatole. "Eh?" - -"You'd better wait till she's married...." - -"You know, I adore little girls, they lose their heads at once," -pursued Anatole. - -"You have been caught once already by a 'little girl,'" said -Dolokhov who knew of Kuragin's marriage. "Take care!" - -"Well, that can't happen twice! Eh?" said Anatole, with a -good-humored laugh. - -CHAPTER XII - -The day after the opera the Rostovs went nowhere and nobody came -to see them. Marya Dmitrievna talked to the count about something -which they concealed from Natasha. Natasha guessed they were talking -about the old prince and planning something, and this disquieted and -offended her. She was expecting Prince Andrew any moment and twice -that day sent a manservant to the Vozdvizhenka to ascertain whether he -had come. He had not arrived. She suffered more now than during her -first days in Moscow. To her impatience and pining for him were now -added the unpleasant recollection of her interview with Princess -Mary and the old prince, and a fear and anxiety of which she did not -understand the cause. She continually fancied that either he would -never come or that something would happen to her before he came. She -could no longer think of him by herself calmly and continuously as she -had done before. As soon as she began to think of him, the -recollection of the old prince, of Princess Mary, of the theater, -and of Kuragin mingled with her thoughts. The question again presented -itself whether she was not guilty, whether she had not already -broken faith with Prince Andrew, and again she found herself recalling -to the minutest detail every word, every gesture, and every shade in -the play of expression on the face of the man who had been able to -arouse in her such an incomprehensible and terrifying feeling. To -the family Natasha seemed livelier than usual, but she was far less -tranquil and happy than before. - -On Sunday morning Marya Dmitrievna invited her visitors to Mass at -her parish church- the Church of the Assumption built over the -graves of victims of the plague. - -"I don't like those fashionable churches," she said, evidently -priding herself on her independence of thought. "God is the same every -where. We have an excellent priest, he conducts the service decently -and with dignity, and the deacon is the same. What holiness is there -in giving concerts in the choir? I don't like it, it's just -self-indulgence!" - -Marya Dmitrievna liked Sundays and knew how to keep them. Her -whole house was scrubbed and cleaned on Saturdays; neither she nor the -servants worked, and they all wore holiday dress and went to church. -At her table there were extra dishes at dinner, and the servants had -vodka and roast goose or suckling pig. But in nothing in the house was -the holiday so noticeable as in Marya Dmitrievna's broad, stern -face, which on that day wore an invariable look of solemn festivity. - -After Mass, when they had finished their coffee in the dining room -where the loose covers had been removed from the furniture, a -servant announced that the carriage was ready, and Marya Dmitrievna -rose with a stern air. She wore her holiday shawl, in which she paid -calls, and announced that she was going to see Prince Nicholas -Bolkonski to have an explanation with him about Natasha. - -After she had gone, a dressmaker from Madame Suppert-Roguet waited -on the Rostovs, and Natasha, very glad of this diversion, having -shut herself into a room adjoining the drawing room, occupied -herself trying on the new dresses. Just as she had put on a bodice -without sleeves and only tacked together, and was turning her head -to see in the glass how the back fitted, she heard in the drawing room -the animated sounds of her father's voice and another's- a woman's- -that made her flush. It was Helene. Natasha had not time to take off -the bodice before the door opened and Countess Bezukhova, dressed in a -purple velvet gown with a high collar, came into the room beaming with -good-humored amiable smiles. - -"Oh, my enchantress!" she cried to the blushing Natasha. -"Charming! No, this is really beyond anything, my dear count," said -she to Count Rostov who had followed her in. "How can you live in -Moscow and go nowhere? No, I won't let you off! Mademoiselle George -will recite at my house tonight and there'll be some people, and if -you don't bring your lovely girls- who are prettier than -Mademoiselle George- I won't know you! My husband is away in Tver or I -would send him to fetch you. You must come. You positively must! -Between eight and nine." - -She nodded to the dressmaker, whom she knew and who had curtsied -respectfully to her, and seated herself in an armchair beside the -looking glass, draping the folds of her velvet dress picturesquely. -She did not cease chattering good-naturedly and gaily, continually -praising Natasha's beauty. She looked at Natasha's dresses and praised -them, as well as a new dress of her own made of "metallic gauze," -which she had received from Paris, and advised Natasha to have one -like it. - -"But anything suits you, my charmer!" she remarked. - -A smile of pleasure never left Natasha's face. She felt happy and as -if she were blossoming under the praise of this dear Countess -Bezukhova who had formerly seemed to her so unapproachable and -important and was now so kind to her. Natasha brightened up and felt -almost in love with this woman, who was so beautiful and so kind. -Helene for her part was sincerely delighted with Natasha and wished to -give her a good time. Anatole had asked her to bring him and Natasha -together, and she was calling on the Rostovs for that purpose. The -idea of throwing her brother and Natasha together amused her. - -Though at one time, in Petersburg, she had been annoyed with Natasha -for drawing Boris away, she did not think of that now, and in her -own way heartily wished Natasha well. As she was leaving the Rostovs -she called her protegee aside. - -"My brother dined with me yesterday- we nearly died of laughter- -he ate nothing and kept sighing for you, my charmer! He is madly, -quite madly, in love with you, my dear." - -Natasha blushed scarlet when she heard this. - -"How she blushes, how she blushes, my pretty!" said Helene. "You -must certainly come. If you love somebody, my charmer, that is not a -reason to shut yourself up. Even if you are engaged, I am sure your -fiance would wish you to go into society rather than be bored to -death." - -"So she knows I am engaged, and she and her husband Pierre- that -good Pierre- have talked and laughed about this. So it's all right." -And again, under Helene's influence, what had seemed terrible now -seemed simple and natural. "And she is such a grande dame, so kind, -and evidently likes me so much. And why not enjoy myself?" thought -Natasha, gazing at Helene with wide-open, wondering eyes. - -Marya Dmitrievna came back to dinner taciturn and serious, having -evidently suffered a defeat at the old prince's. She was still too -agitated by the encounter to be able to talk of the affair calmly. -In answer to the count's inquiries she replied that things were all -right and that she would tell about it next day. On hearing of -Countess Bezukhova's visit and the invitation for that evening, -Marya Dmitrievna remarked: - -"I don't care to have anything to do with Bezukhova and don't advise -you to; however, if you've promised- go. It will divert your -thoughts," she added, addressing Natasha. - -CHAPTER XIII - -Count Rostov took the girls to Countess Bezukhova's. There were a -good many people there, but nearly all strangers to Natasha. Count -Rostov was displeased to see that the company consisted almost -entirely of men and women known for the freedom of their conduct. -Mademoiselle George was standing in a corner of the drawing room -surrounded by young men. There were several Frenchmen present, among -them Metivier who from the time Helene reached Moscow had been an -intimate in her house. The count decided not to sit down to cards or -let his girls out of his sight and to get away as soon as Mademoiselle -George's performance was over. - -Anatole was at the door, evidently on the lookout for the Rostovs. -Immediately after greeting the count he went up to Natasha and -followed her. As soon as she saw him she was seized by the same -feeling she had had at the opera- gratified vanity at his admiration -of her and fear at the absence of a moral barrier between them. - -Helene welcomed Natasha delightedly and was loud in admiration of -her beauty and her dress. Soon after their arrival Mademoiselle George -went out of the room to change her costume. In the drawing room people -began arranging the chairs and taking their seats. Anatole moved a -chair for Natasha and was about to sit down beside her, but the count, -who never lost sight of her, took the seat himself. Anatole sat down -behind her. - -Mademoiselle George, with her bare, fat, dimpled arms, and a red -shawl draped over one shoulder, came into the space left vacant for -her, and assumed an unnatural pose. Enthusiastic whispering was -audible. - -Mademoiselle George looked sternly and gloomily at the audience -and began reciting some French verses describing her guilty love for -her son. In some places she raised her voice, in others she whispered, -lifting her head triumphantly; sometimes she paused and uttered hoarse -sounds, rolling her eyes. - -"Adorable! divine! delicious!" was heard from every side. - -Natasha looked at the fat actress, but neither saw nor heard nor -understood anything of what went on before her. She only felt -herself again completely borne away into this strange senseless world- -so remote from her old world- a world in which it was impossible to -know what was good or bad, reasonable or senseless. Behind her sat -Anatole, and conscious of his proximity she experienced a frightened -sense of expectancy. - -After the first monologue the whole company rose and surrounded -Mademoiselle George, expressing their enthusiasm. - -"How beautiful she is!" Natasha remarked to her father who had -also risen and was moving through the crowd toward the actress. - -"I don't think so when I look at you!" said Anatole, following -Natasha. He said this at a moment when she alone could hear him. -"You are enchanting... from the moment I saw you I have never -ceased..." - -"Come, come, Natasha!" said the count, as he turned back for his -daughter. "How beautiful she is!" Natasha without saying anything -stepped up to her father and looked at him with surprised inquiring -eyes. - -After giving several recitations, Mademoiselle George left, and -Countess Bezukhova asked her visitors into the ballroom. - -The count wished to go home, but Helene entreated him not to spoil -her improvised ball, and the Rostovs stayed on. Anatole asked -Natasha for a valse and as they danced he pressed her waist and hand -and told her she was bewitching and that he loved her. During the -ecossaise, which she also danced with him, Anatole said nothing when -they happened to be by themselves, but merely gazed at her. Natasha -lifted her frightened eyes to him, but there was such confident -tenderness in his affectionate look and smile that she could not, -whilst looking at him, say what she had to say. She lowered her eyes. - -"Don't say such things to me. I am betrothed and love another," -she said rapidly.... She glanced at him. - -Anatole was not upset or pained by what she had said. - -"Don't speak to me of that! What can I do?" said he. "I tell you I -am madly, madly, in love with you! Is it my fault that you are -enchanting?... It's our turn to begin." - -Natasha, animated and excited, looked about her with wide-open -frightened eyes and seemed merrier than usual. She understood hardly -anything that went on that evening. They danced the ecossaise and -the Grossvater. Her father asked her to come home, but she begged to -remain. Wherever she went and whomever she was speaking to, she felt -his eyes upon her. Later on she recalled how she had asked her -father to let her go to the dressing room to rearrange her dress, that -Helene had followed her and spoken laughingly of her brother's love, -and that she again met Anatole in the little sitting room. Helene -had disappeared leaving them alone, and Anatole had taken her hand and -said in a tender voice: - -"I cannot come to visit you but is it possible that I shall never -see you? I love you madly. Can I never...?" and, blocking her path, he -brought his face close to hers. - -His large, glittering, masculine eyes were so close to hers that she -saw nothing but them. - -"Natalie?" he whispered inquiringly while she felt her hands being -painfully pressed. "Natalie?" - -"I don't understand. I have nothing to say," her eyes replied. - -Burning lips were pressed to hers, and at the same instant she -felt herself released, and Helene's footsteps and the rustle of her -dress were heard in the room. Natasha looked round at her, and then, -red and trembling, threw a frightened look of inquiry at Anatole and -moved toward the door. - -"One word, just one, for God's sake!" cried Anatole. - -She paused. She so wanted a word from him that would explain to -her what had happened and to which she could find no answer. - -"Natalie, just a word, only one!" he kept repeating, evidently not -knowing what to say and he repeated it till Helene came up to them. - -Helene returned with Natasha to the drawing room. The Rostovs went -away without staying for supper. - -After reaching home Natasha did not sleep all night. She was -tormented by the insoluble question whether she loved Anatole or -Prince Andrew. She loved Prince Andrew- she remembered distinctly -how deeply she loved him. But she also loved Anatole, of that there -was no doubt. "Else how could all this have happened?" thought she. -"If, after that, I could return his smile when saying good-by, if I -was able to let it come to that, it means that I loved him from the -first. It means that he is kind, noble, and splendid, and I could -not help loving him. What am I to do if I love him and the other one -too?" she asked herself, unable to find an answer to these terrible -questions. - -CHAPTER XIV - -Morning came with its cares and bustle. Everyone got up and began to -move about and talk, dressmakers came again. Marya Dmitrievna -appeared, and they were called to breakfast. Natasha kept looking -uneasily at everybody with wide-open eyes, as if wishing to -intercept every glance directed toward her, and tried to appear the -same as usual. - -After breakfast, which was her best time, Marya Dmitrievna sat -down in her armchair and called Natasha and the count to her. - -"Well, friends, I have now thought the whole matter over and this is -my advice," she began. "Yesterday, as you know, I went to see Prince -Bolkonski. Well, I had a talk with him.... He took it into his head to -begin shouting, but I am not one to be shouted down. I said what I had -to say!" - -"Well, and he?" asked the count. - -"He? He's crazy... he did not want to listen. But what's the use -of talking? As it is we have worn the poor girl out," said Marya -Dmitrievna. "My advice to you is finish your business and go back home -to Otradnoe... and wait there." - -"Oh, no!" exclaimed Natasha. - -"Yes, go back," said Marya Dmitrievna, "and wait there. If your -betrothed comes here now- there will be no avoiding a quarrel; but -alone with the old man he will talk things over and then come on to -you." - -Count Rostov approved of this suggestion, appreciating its -reasonableness. If the old man came round it would be all the better -to visit him in Moscow or at Bald Hills later on; and if not, the -wedding, against his wishes, could only be arranged at Otradnoe. - -"That is perfectly true. And I am sorry I went to see him and took -her," said the old count. - -"No, why be sorry? Being here, you had to pay your respects. But -if he won't- that's his affair," said Marya Dmitrievna, looking for -something in her reticule. "Besides, the trousseau is ready, so -there is nothing to wait for; and what is not ready I'll send after -you. Though I don't like letting you go, it is the best way. So go, -with God's blessing!" - -Having found what she was looking for in the reticule she handed -it to Natasha. It was a letter from Princess Mary. - -"She has written to you. How she torments herself, poor thing! She's -afraid you might think that she does not like you." - -"But she doesn't like me," said Natasha. - -"Don't talk nonsense!" cried Marya Dmitrievna. - -"I shan't believe anyone, I know she doesn't like me," replied -Natasha boldly as she took the letter, and her face expressed a cold -and angry resolution that caused Marya Dmitrievna to look at her -more intently and to frown. - -"Don't answer like that, my good girl!" she said. "What I say is -true! Write an answer!" Natasha did not reply and went to her own room -to read Princess Mary's letter. - -Princess Mary wrote that she was in despair at the -misunderstanding that had occurred between them. Whatever her father's -feelings might be, she begged Natasha to believe that she could not -help loving her as the one chosen by her brother, for whose -happiness she was ready to sacrifice everything. - -"Do not think, however," she wrote, "that my father is -ill-disposed toward you. He is an invalid and an old man who must be -forgiven; but he is good and magnanimous and will love her who makes -his son happy." Princess Mary went on to ask Natasha to fix a time -when she could see her again. - -After reading the letter Natasha sat down at the writing table to -answer it. "Dear Princess," she wrote in French quickly and -mechanically, and then paused. What more could she write after all -that had happened the evening before? "Yes, yes! All that has -happened, and now all is changed," she thought as she sat with the -letter she had begun before her. "Must I break off with him? Must I -really? That's awful... and to escape from these dreadful thoughts she -went to Sonya and began sorting patterns with her. - -After dinner Natasha went to her room and again took up Princess -Mary's letter. "Can it be that it is all over?" she thought. "Can it -be that all this has happened so quickly and has destroyed all that -went before?" She recalled her love for Prince Andrew in all its -former strength, and at the same time felt that she loved Kuragin. She -vividly pictured herself as Prince Andrew's wife, and the scenes of -happiness with him she had so often repeated in her imagination, and -at the same time, aglow with excitement, recalled every detail of -yesterday's interview with Anatole. - -"Why could that not be as well?" she sometimes asked herself in -complete bewilderment. "Only so could I be completely happy; but now I -have to choose, and I can't be happy without either of them. Only," -she thought, "to tell Prince Andrew what has happened or to hide it -from him are both equally impossible. But with that one nothing is -spoiled. But am I really to abandon forever the joy of Prince Andrew's -love, in which I have lived so long?" - -"Please, Miss!" whispered a maid entering the room with a mysterious -air. "A man told me to give you this-" and she handed Natasha a -letter. - -"Only, for Christ's sake..." the girl went on, as Natasha, without -thinking, mechanically broke the seal and read a love letter from -Anatole, of which, without taking in a word, she understood only -that it was a letter from him- from the man she loved. Yes, she -loved him, or else how could that have happened which had happened? -And how could she have a love letter from him in her hand? - -With trembling hands Natasha held that passionate love letter -which Dolokhov had composed for Anatole, and as she read it she -found in it an echo of all that she herself imagined she was feeling. - -"Since yesterday evening my fate has been sealed; to be loved by you -or to die. There is no other way for me," the letter began. Then he -went on to say that he knew her parents would not give her to him- for -this there were secret reasons he could reveal only to her- but that -if she loved him she need only say the word yes, and no human power -could hinder their bliss. Love would conquer all. He would steal her -away and carry her off to the ends of the earth. - -"Yes, yes! I love him!" thought Natasha, reading the letter for -the twentieth time and finding some peculiarly deep meaning in each -word of it. - -That evening Marya Dmitrievna was going to the Akharovs' and -proposed to take the girls with her. Natasha, pleading a headache, -remained at home. - -CHAPTER XV - -On returning late in the evening Sonya went to Natasha's room, and -to her surprise found her still dressed and asleep on the sofa. Open -on the table, beside her lay Anatole's letter. Sonya picked it up -and read it. - -As she read she glanced at the sleeping Natasha, trying to find in -her face an explanation of what she was reading, but did not find -it. Her face was calm, gentle, and happy. Clutching her breast to keep -herself from choking, Sonya, pale and trembling with fear and -agitation, sat down in an armchair and burst into tears. - -"How was it I noticed nothing? How could it go so far? Can she -have left off loving Prince Andrew? And how could she let Kuragin go -to such lengths? He is a deceiver and a villain, that's plain! What -will Nicholas, dear noble Nicholas, do when he hears of it? So this is -the meaning of her excited, resolute, unnatural look the day before -yesterday, yesterday, and today," thought Sonya. "But it can't be that -she loves him! She probably opened the letter without knowing who it -was from. Probably she is offended by it. She could not do such a -thing!" - -Sonya wiped away her tears and went up to Natasha, again scanning -her face. - -"Natasha!" she said, just audibly. - -Natasha awoke and saw Sonya. - -"Ah, you're back?" - -And with the decision and tenderness that often come at the moment -of awakening, she embraced her friend, but noticing Sonya's look of -embarrassment, her own face expressed confusion and suspicion. - -"Sonya, you've read that letter?" she demanded. - -"Yes," answered Sonya softly. - -Natasha smiled rapturously. - -"No, Sonya, I can't any longer!" she said. "I can't hide it from you -any longer. You know, we love one another! Sonya, darling, he -writes... Sonya..." - -Sonya stared open-eyed at Natasha, unable to believe her ears. - -"And Bolkonski?" she asked. - -"Ah, Sonya, if you only knew how happy I am!" cried Natasha. "You -don't know what love is...." - -"But, Natasha, can that be all over?" - -Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not -grasp the question. - -"Well, then, are you refusing Prince Andrew?" said Sonya. - -"Oh, you don't understand anything! Don't talk nonsense, just -listen!" said Natasha, with momentary vexation. - -"But I can't believe it," insisted Sonya. "I don't understand. How -is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly... Why, you -have only seen him three times! Natasha, I don't believe you, you're -joking! In three days to forget everything and so..." - -"Three days?" said Natasha. "It seems to me I've loved him a hundred -years. It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before. You can't -understand it.... Sonya, wait a bit, sit here," and Natasha embraced -and kissed her. - -"I had heard that it happens like this, and you must have heard it -too, but it's only now that I feel such love. It's not the same as -before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his -slave, and that I could not help loving him. Yes, his slave! -Whatever he orders I shall do. You don't understand that. What can I -do? What can I do, Sonya?" cried Natasha with a happy yet frightened -expression. - -"But think what you are doing," cried Sonya. "I can't leave it -like this. This secret correspondence... How could you let him go so -far?" she went on, with a horror and disgust she could hardly conceal. - -"I told you that I have no will," Natasha replied. "Why can't you -understand? I love him!" - -"Then I won't let it come to that... I shall tell!" cried Sonya, -bursting into tears. - -"What do you mean? For God's sake... If you tell, you are my enemy!" -declared Natasha. "You want me to be miserable, you want us to be -separated...." - -When she saw Natasha's fright, Sonya shed tears of shame and pity -for her friend. - -"But what has happened between you?" she asked. "What has he said to -you? Why doesn't he come to the house?" - -Natasha did not answer her questions. - -"For God's sake, Sonya, don't tell anyone, don't torture me," -Natasha entreated. "Remember no one ought to interfere in such -matters! I have confided in you...." - -"But why this secrecy? Why doesn't he come to the house?" asked -Sonya. "Why doesn't he openly ask for your hand? You know Prince -Andrew gave you complete freedom- if it is really so; but I don't -believe it! Natasha, have you considered what these secret reasons can -be?" - -Natasha looked at Sonya with astonishment. Evidently this question -presented itself to her mind for the first time and she did not know -how to answer it. - -"I don't know what the reasons are. But there must be reasons!" - -Sonya sighed and shook her head incredulously. - -"If there were reasons..." she began. - -But Natasha, guessing her doubts, interrupted her in alarm. - -"Sonya, one can't doubt him! One can't, one can't! Don't you -understand?" she cried. - -"Does he love you?" - -"Does he love me?" Natasha repeated with a smile of pity at her -friend's lack of comprehension. "Why, you have read his letter and you -have seen him." - -"But if he is dishonorable?" - -"He! dishonorable? If you only knew!" exclaimed Natasha. - -"If he is an honorable man he should either declare his intentions -or cease seeing you; and if you won't do this, I will. I will write to -him, and I will tell Papa!" said Sonya resolutely. - -"But I can't live without him!" cried Natasha. - -"Natasha, I don't understand you. And what are you saying! Think -of your father and of Nicholas." - -"I don't want anyone, I don't love anyone but him. How dare you -say he is dishonorable? Don't you know that I love him?" screamed -Natasha. "Go away, Sonya! I don't want to quarrel with you, but go, -for God's sake go! You see how I am suffering!" Natasha cried angrily, -in a voice of despair and repressed irritation. Sonya burst into -sobs and ran from the room. - -Natasha went to the table and without a moment's reflection wrote -that answer to Princess Mary which she had been unable to write all -the morning. In this letter she said briefly that all their -misunderstandings were at an end; that availing herself of the -magnanimity of Prince Andrew who when he went abroad had given her her -she begged Princess Mary to forget everything and forgive her if she -had been to blame toward her, but that she could not be his wife. At -that moment this all seemed quite easy, simple, and clear to Natasha. - -On Friday the Rostovs were to return to the country, but on -Wednesday the count went with the prospective purchaser to his -estate near Moscow. - -On the day the count left, Sonya and Natasha were invited to a big -dinner party at the Karagins', and Marya Dmitrievna took them there. -At that party Natasha again met Anatole, and Sonya noticed that she -spoke to him, trying not to be overheard, and that all through -dinner she was more agitated than ever. When they got home Natasha was -the first to begin the explanation Sonya expected. - -"There, Sonya, you were talking all sorts of nonsense about him," -Natasha began in a mild voice such as children use when they wish to -be praised. "We have had an explanation today." - -"Well, what happened? What did he say? Natasha, how glad I am you're -not angry with me! Tell me everything- the whole truth. What did he -say?" - -Natasha became thoughtful. - -"Oh, Sonya, if you knew him as I do! He said... He asked me what I -had promised Bolkonski. He was glad I was free to refuse him." - -Sonya sighed sorrowfully. - -"But you haven't refused Bolkonski?" said she. - -"Perhaps I have. Perhaps all is over between me and Bolkonski. Why -do you think so badly of me?" - -"I don't think anything, only I don't understand this..." - -"Wait a bit, Sonya, you'll understand everything. You'll see what -a man he is! Now don't think badly of me or of him. I don't think -badly of anyone: I love and pity everybody. But what am I to do?" - -Sonya did not succumb to the tender tone Natasha used toward her. -The more emotional and ingratiating the expression of Natasha's face -became, the more serious and stern grew Sonya's. - -"Natasha," said she, "you asked me not to speak to you, and I -haven't spoken, but now you yourself have begun. I don't trust him, -Natasha. Why this secrecy?" - -"Again, again!" interrupted Natasha. - -"Natasha, I am afraid for you!" - -"Afraid of what?" - -"I am afraid you're going to your ruin," said Sonya resolutely, -and was herself horrified at what she had said. - -Anger again showed in Natasha's face. - -"And I'll go to my ruin, I will, as soon as possible! It's not -your business! It won't be you, but I, who'll suffer. Leave me -alone, leave me alone! I hate you!" - -Natasha!" moaned Sonya, aghast. - -"I hate you, I hate you! You're my enemy forever!" And Natasha ran -out of the room. - -Natasha did not speak to Sonya again and avoided her. With the -same expression of agitated surprise and guilt she went about the -house, taking up now one occupation, now another, and at once -abandoning them. - -Hard as it was for Sonya, she watched her friend and did not let her -out of her sight. - -The day before the count was to return, Sonya noticed that Natasha -sat by the drawingroom window all the morning as if expecting -something and that she made a sign to an officer who drove past, -whom Sonya took to be Anatole. - -Sonya began watching her friend still more attentively and noticed -that at dinner and all that evening Natasha was in a strange and -unnatural state. She answered questions at random, began sentences she -did not finish, and laughed at everything. - -After tea Sonya noticed a housemaid at Natasha's door timidly -waiting to let her pass. She let the girl go in, and then listening at -the door learned that another letter had been delivered. - -Then suddenly it became clear to Sonya that Natasha had some -dreadful plan for that evening. Sonya knocked at her door. Natasha did -not let her in. - -"She will run away with him!" thought Sonya. "She is capable of -anything. There was something particularly pathetic and resolute in -her face today. She cried as she said good-by to Uncle," Sonya -remembered. "Yes, that's it, she means to elope with him, but what -am I to do?" thought she, recalling all the signs that clearly -indicated that Natasha had some terrible intention. "The count is -away. What am I to do? Write to Kuragin demanding an explanation? -But what is there to oblige him to reply? Write to Pierre, as Prince -Andrew asked me to in case of some misfortune?... But perhaps she -really has already refused Bolkonski- she sent a letter to Princess -Mary yesterday. And Uncle is away...." To tell Marya Dmitrievna who -had such faith in Natasha seemed to Sonya terrible. "Well, anyway," -thought Sonya as she stood in the dark passage, "now or never I must -prove that I remember the family's goodness to me and that I love -Nicholas. Yes! If I don't sleep for three nights I'll not leave this -passage and will hold her back by force and will and not let the -family be disgraced," thought she. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Anatole had lately moved to Dolokhov's. The plan for Natalie -Rostova's abduction had been arranged and the preparations made by -Dolokhov a few days before, and on the day that Sonya, after listening -at Natasha's door, resolved to safeguard her, it was to have been -put into execution. Natasha had promised to come out to Kuragin at the -back porch at ten that evening. Kuragin was to put her into a troyka -he would have ready and to drive her forty miles to the village of -Kamenka, where an unfrocked priest was in readiness to perform a -marriage ceremony over them. At Kamenka a relay of horses was to -wait which would take them to the Warsaw highroad, and from there they -would hasten abroad with post horses. - -Anatole had a passport, an order for post horses, ten thousand -rubles he had taken from his sister and another ten thousand -borrowed with Dolokhov's help. - -Two witnesses for the mock marriage- Khvostikov, a retired petty -official whom Dolokhov made use of in his gambling transactions, and -Makarin, a retired hussar, a kindly, weak fellow who had an -unbounded affection for Kuragin- were sitting at tea in Dolokhov's -front room. - -In his large study, the walls of which were hung to the ceiling with -Persian rugs, bearskins, and weapons, sat Dolokhov in a traveling -cloak and high boots, at an open desk on which lay abacus and some -bundles of paper money. Anatole, with uniform unbuttoned, walked to -and fro from the room where the witnesses were sitting, through the -study to the room behind, where his French valet and others were -packing the last of his things. Dolokhov was counting the money and -noting something down. - -"Well," he said, "Khvostikov must have two thousand." - -"Give it to him, then," said Anatole. - -"Makarka" (their name for Makarin) "will go through fire and water -for you for nothing. So here are our accounts all settled," said -Dolokhov, showing him the memorandum. "Is that right?" - -"Yes, of course," returned Anatole, evidently not listening to -Dolokhov and looking straight before him with a smile that did not -leave his face. - -Dolokhov banged down the or of his and turned to Anatole with an -ironic smile: - -"Do you know? You'd really better drop it all. There's still time!" - -"Fool," retorted Anatole. "Don't talk nonsense! If you only -knew... it's the devil knows what!" - -"No, really, give it up!" said Dolokhov. "I am speaking seriously. -It's no joke, this plot you've hatched." - -"What, teasing again? Go to the devil! Eh?" said Anatole, making a -grimace. "Really it's no time for your stupid jokes," and he left -the room. - -Dolokhov smiled contemptuously and condescendingly when Anatole -had gone out. - -"You wait a bit," he called after him. "I'm not joking, I'm -talking sense. Come here, come here!" - -Anatole returned and looked at Dolokhov, trying to give him his -attention and evidently submitting to him involuntarily. - -"Now listen to me. I'm telling you this for the last time. Why -should I joke about it? Did I hinder you? Who arranged everything -for you? Who found the priest and got the passport? Who raised the -money? I did it all." - -"Well, thank you for it. Do you think I am not grateful?" And -Anatole sighed and embraced Dolokhov. - -"I helped you, but all the same I must tell you the truth; it is a -dangerous business, and if you think about it- a stupid business. -Well, you'll carry her off- all right! Will they let it stop at -that? It will come out that you're already married. Why, they'll -have you in the criminal court...." - -"Oh, nonsense, nonsense!" Anatole ejaculated and again made a -grimace. "Didn't I explain to you? What?" And Anatole, with the -partiality dull-witted people have for any conclusion they have -reached by their own reasoning, repeated the argument he had already -put to Dolokhov a hundred times. "Didn't I explain to you that I -have come to this conclusion: if this marriage is invalid," he went -on, crooking one finger, "then I have nothing to answer for; but if it -is valid, no matter! Abroad no one will know anything about it. -Isn't that so? And don't talk to me, don't, don't." - -"Seriously, you'd better drop it! You'll only get yourself into a -mess!" - -"Go to the devil!" cried Anatole and, clutching his hair, left the -room, but returned at once and dropped into an armchair in front of -Dolokhov with his feet turned under him. "It's the very devil! What? -Feel how it beats!" He took Dolokhov's hand and put it on his heart. -"What a foot, my dear fellow! What a glance! A goddess!" he added in -French. "What?" - -Dolokhov with a cold smile and a gleam in his handsome insolent eyes -looked at him- evidently wishing to get some more amusement out of -him. - -"Well and when the money's gone, what then?" - -"What then? Eh?" repeated Anatole, sincerely perplexed by a -thought of the future. "What then?... Then, I don't know.... But why -talk nonsense!" He glanced at his watch. "It's time!" - -Anatole went into the back room. - -"Now then! Nearly ready? You're dawdling!" he shouted to the -servants. - -Dolokhov put away the money, called a footman whom he ordered to -bring something for them to eat and drink before the journey, and went -into the room where Khvostikov and Makarin were sitting. - -Anatole lay on the sofa in the study leaning on his elbow and -smiling pensively, while his handsome lips muttered tenderly to -himself. - -"Come and eat something. Have a drink!" Dolokhov shouted to him from -the other room. - -"I don't want to," answered Anatole continuing to smile. - -"Come! Balaga is here." - -Anatole rose and went into the dining room. Balaga was a famous -troyka driver who had known Dolokhov and Anatole some six years and -had given them good service with his troykas. More than once when -Anatole's regiment was stationed at Tver he had taken him from Tver in -the evening, brought him to Moscow by daybreak, and driven him back -again the next night. More than once he had enabled Dolokhov to escape -when pursued. More than once he had driven them through the town -with gypsies and "ladykins" as he called the cocottes. More than -once in their service he had run over pedestrians and upset vehicles -in the streets of Moscow and had always been protected from the -consequences by "my gentlemen" as he called them. He had ruined more -than one horse in their service. More than once they had beaten him, -and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, -which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them -which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia. They -often called Balaga into their orgies and made him drink and dance -at the gypsies', and more than one thousand rubles of their money -had passed through his hands. In their service he risked his skin -and his life twenty times a year, and in their service had lost more -horses than the money he had from them would buy. But he liked them; -liked that mad driving at twelve miles an hour, liked upsetting a -driver or running down a pedestrian, and flying at full gallop through -the Moscow streets. He liked to hear those wild, tipsy shouts behind -him: "Get on! Get on!" when it was impossible to go any faster. He -liked giving a painful lash on the neck to some peasant who, more dead -than alive, was already hurrying out of his way. "Real gentlemen!" -he considered them. - -Anatole and Dolokhov liked Balaga too for his masterly driving and -because he liked the things they liked. With others Balaga -bargained, charging twenty-five rubles for a two hours' drive, and -rarely drove himself, generally letting his young men do so. But -with "his gentlemen" he always drove himself and never demanded -anything for his work. Only a couple of times a year- when he knew -from their valets that they had money in hand- he would turn up of a -morning quite sober and with a deep bow would ask them to help him. -The gentlemen always made him sit down. - -"Do help me out, Theodore Ivanych, sir," or "your excellency," he -would say. "I am quite out of horses. Let me have what you can to go -to the fair." - -And Anatole and Dolokhov, when they had money, would give him a -thousand or a couple of thousand rubles. - -Balaga was a fair-haired, short, and snub-nosed peasant of about -twenty-seven; red-faced, with a particularly red thick neck, -glittering little eyes, and a small beard. He wore a fine, -dark-blue, silk-lined cloth coat over a sheepskin. - -On entering the room now he crossed himself, turning toward the -front corner of the room, and went up to Dolokhov, holding out a -small, black hand. - -"Theodore Ivanych!" he said, bowing. - -"How d'you do, friend? Well, here he is!" - -"Good day, your excellency!" he said, again holding out his hand -to Anatole who had just come in. - -"I say, Balaga," said Anatole, putting his hands on the man's -shoulders, "do you care for me or not? Eh? Now, do me a service.... -What horses have you come with? Eh?" - -"As your messenger ordered, your special beasts," replied Balaga. - -"Well, listen, Balaga! Drive all three to death but get me there -in three hours. Eh?" - -"When they are dead, what shall I drive?" said Balaga with a wink. - -"Mind, I'll smash your face in! Don't make jokes!" cried Anatole, -suddenly rolling his eyes. - -"Why joke?" said the driver, laughing. "As if I'd grudge my -gentlemen anything! As fast as ever the horses can gallop, so fast -we'll go!" - -"Ah!" said Anatole. "Well, sit down." - -"Yes, sit down!" said Dolokhov. - -"I'll stand, Theodore Ivanych." - -"Sit down; nonsense! Have a drink!" said Anatole, and filled a large -glass of Madeira for him. - -The driver's eyes sparkled at the sight of the wine. After -refusing it for manners' sake, he drank it and wiped his mouth with -a red silk handkerchief he took out of his cap. - -"And when are we to start, your excellency?" - -"Well..." Anatole looked at his watch. "We'll start at once. Mind, -Balaga! You'll get there in time? Eh?" - -"That depends on our luck in starting, else why shouldn't we be -there in time?" replied Balaga. "Didn't we get you to Tver in seven -hours? I think you remember that, your excellency?" - -"Do you know, one Christmas I drove from Tver," said Anatole, -smilingly at the recollection and turning to Makarin who gazed -rapturously at him with wide-open eyes. "Will you believe it, Makarka, -it took one's breath away, the rate we flew. We came across a train of -loaded sleighs and drove right over two of them. Eh?" - -"Those were horses!" Balaga continued the tale. "That time I'd -harnessed two young side horses with the bay in the shafts," he went -on, turning to Dolokhov. "Will you believe it, Theodore Ivanych, those -animals flew forty miles? I couldn't hold them in, my hands grew -numb in the sharp frost so that I threw down the reins- 'Catch hold -yourself, your excellency!' says I, and I just tumbled on the bottom -of the sleigh and sprawled there. It wasn't a case of urging them -on, there was no holding them in till we reached the place. The devils -took us there in three hours! Only the near one died of it." - -CHAPTER XVII - -Anatole went out of the room and returned a few minutes later -wearing a fur coat girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap jauntily -set on one side and very becoming to his handsome face. Having -looked in a mirror, and standing before Dolokhov in the same pose he -had assumed before it, he lifted a glass of wine. - -"Well, good-by, Theodore. Thank you for everything and farewell!" -said Anatole. "Well, comrades and friends..." he considered for a -moment "...of my youth, farewell!" he said, turning to Makarin and the -others. - -Though they were all going with him, Anatole evidently wished to -make something touching and solemn out of this address to his -comrades. He spoke slowly in a loud voice and throwing out his chest -slightly swayed one leg. - -"All take glasses; you too, Balaga. Well, comrades and friends of my -youth, we've had our fling and lived and reveled. Eh? And now, when -shall we meet again? I am going abroad. We have had a good time- now -farewell, lads! To our health! Hurrah!..." he cried, and emptying -his glass flung it on the floor. - -"To your health!" said Balaga who also emptied his glass, and -wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. - -Makarin embraced Anatole with tears in his eyes. - -"Ah, Prince, how sorry I am to part from you! - -"Let's go. Let's go!" cried Anatole. - -Balaga was about to leave the room. - -"No, stop!" said Anatole. "Shut the door; we have first to sit down. -That's the way." - -They shut the door and all sat down. - -"Now, quick march, lads!" said Anatole, rising. - -Joseph, his valet, handed him his sabretache and saber, and they all -went out into the vestibule. - -"And where's the fur cloak?" asked Dolokhov. "Hey, Ignatka! Go to -Matrena Matrevna and ask her for the sable cloak. I have heard what -elopements are like," continued Dolokhov with a wink. "Why, she'll -rush out more dead than alive just in the things she is wearing; if -you delay at all there'll be tears and 'Papa' and 'Mamma,' and she's -frozen in a minute and must go back- but you wrap the fur cloak -round her first thing and carry her to the sleigh." - -The valet brought a woman's fox-lined cloak. - -"Fool, I told you the sable one! Hey, Matrena, the sable!" he -shouted so that his voice rang far through the rooms. - -A handsome, slim, and pale-faced gypsy girl with glittering black -eyes and curly blue-black hair, wearing a red shawl, ran out with a -sable mantle on her arm. - -"Here, I don't grudge it- take it!" she said, evidently afraid of -her master and yet regretful of her cloak. - -Dolokhov, without answering, took the cloak, threw it over -Matrena, and wrapped her up in it. - -"That's the way," said Dolokhov, "and then so!" and he turned the -collar up round her head, leaving only a little of the face uncovered. -"And then so, do you see?" and he pushed Anatole's head forward to -meet the gap left by the collar, through which Matrena's brilliant -smile was seen. - -"Well, good-by, Matrena," said Anatole, kissing her. "Ah, my -revels here are over. Remember me to Steshka. There, good-by! Good-by, -Matrena, wish me luck!" - -"Well, Prince, may God give you great luck!" said Matrena in her -gypsy accent. - -Two troykas were standing before the porch and two young drivers -were holding the horses. Balaga took his seat in the front one and -holding his elbows high arranged the reins deliberately. Anatole and -Dolokhov got in with him. Makarin, Khvostikov, and a valet seated -themselves in the other sleigh. - -"Well, are you ready?" asked Balaga. - -"Go!" he cried, twisting the reins round his hands, and the troyka -tore down the Nikitski Boulevard. - -"Tproo! Get out of the way! Hi!... Tproo!..." The shouting of Balaga -and of the sturdy young fellow seated on the box was all that could be -heard. On the Arbat Square the troyka caught against a carriage; -something cracked, shouts were heard, and the troyka flew along the -Arbat Street. - -After taking a turn along the Podnovinski Boulevard, Balaga began to -rein in, and turning back drew up at the crossing of the old -Konyusheny Street. - -The young fellow on the box jumped down to hold the horses and -Anatole and Dolokhov went along the pavement. When they reached the -gate Dolokhov whistled. The whistle was answered, and a maidservant -ran out. - -"Come into the courtyard or you'll be seen; she'll come out -directly," said she. - -Dolokhov stayed by the gate. Anatole followed the maid into the -courtyard, turned the corner, and ran up into the porch. - -He was met by Gabriel, Marya Dmitrievna's gigantic footman. - -"Come to the mistress, please," said the footman in his deep bass, -intercepting any retreat. - -"To what Mistress? Who are you?" asked Anatole in a breathless -whisper. - -"Kindly step in, my orders are to bring you in." - -"Kuragin! Come back!" shouted Dolokhov. "Betrayed! Back!" - -Dolokhov, after Anatole entered, had remained at the wicket gate and -was struggling with the yard porter who was trying to lock it. With -a last desperate effort Dolokhov pushed the porter aside, and when -Anatole ran back seized him by the arm, pulled him through the wicket, -and ran back with him to the troyka. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, made -her confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha she -read it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand. - -"You shameless good-for-nothing!" said she. "I won't hear a word." - -Pushing back Natasha who looked at her with astonished but -tearless eyes, she locked her in; and having given orders to the -yard porter to admit the persons who would be coming that evening, but -not to let them out again, and having told the footman to bring them -up to her, she seated herself in the drawing room to await the -abductors. - -When Gabriel came to inform her that the men who had come had run -away again, she rose frowning, and clasping her hands behind her paced -through the rooms a long time considering what she should do. Toward -midnight she went to Natasha's room fingering the key in her pocket. -Sonya was sitting sobbing in the corridor. "Marya Dmitrievna, for -God's sake let me in to her!" she pleaded, but Marya Dmitrievna -unlocked the door and went in without giving her an answer.... -"Disgusting, abominable... In my house... horrid girl, hussy! I'm only -sorry for her father!" thought she, trying to restrain her wrath. -"Hard as it may be, I'll tell them all to hold their tongues and -will hide it from the count." She entered the room with resolute -steps. Natasha lying on the sofa, her head hidden in her hands, and -she did not stir. She was in just the same position in which Marya -Dmitrievna had left her. - -"A nice girl! Very nice!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "Arranging meetings -with lovers in my house! It's no use pretending: you listen when I -speak to you!" And Marya Dmitrievna touched her arm. "Listen when when -I speak! You've disgraced yourself like the lowest of hussies. I'd -treat you differently, but I'm sorry for your father, so I will -conceal it." - -Natasha did not change her position, but her whole body heaved -with noiseless, convulsive sobs which choked her. Marya Dmitrievna -glanced round at Sonya and seated herself on the sofa beside Natasha. - -"It's lucky for him that he escaped me; but I'll find him!" she said -in her rough voice. "Do you hear what I am saying or not?" she added. - -She put her large hand under Natasha's face and turned it toward -her. Both Marya Dmitrievna and Sonya were amazed when they saw how -Natasha looked. Her eyes were dry and glistening, her lips compressed, -her cheeks sunken. - -"Let me be!... What is it to me?... I shall die!" she muttered, -wrenching herself from Marya Dmitrievna's hands with a vicious -effort and sinking down again into her former position. - -"Natalie!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "I wish for your good. Lie -still, stay like that then, I won't touch you. But listen. I won't -tell you how guilty you are. You know that yourself. But when your -father comes back tomorrow what am I to tell him? Eh?" - -Again Natasha's body shook with sobs. - -"Suppose he finds out, and your brother, and your betrothed?" - -"I have no betrothed: I have refused him!" cried Natasha. - -"That's all the same," continued Dmitrievna. "If they hear of -this, will they let it pass? He, your father, I know him... if he -challenges him to a duel will that be all right? Eh?" - -"Oh, let me be! Why have you interfered at all? Why? Why? Who -asked you to?" shouted Natasha, raising herself on the sofa and -looking malignantly at Marya Dmitrievna. - -"But what did you want?" cried Marya Dmitrievna, growing angry -again. "Were you kept under lock and key? Who hindered his coming to -the house? Why carry you off as if you were some gypsy singing -girl?... Well, if he had carried you off... do you think they wouldn't -have found him? Your father, or brother, or your betrothed? And he's a -scoundrel, a wretch- that's a fact!" - -"He is better than any of you!" exclaimed Natasha getting up. "If -you hadn't interfered... Oh, my God! What is it all? What is it? -Sonya, why?... Go away!" - -And she burst into sobs with the despairing vehemence with which -people bewail disasters they feel they have themselves occasioned. -Marya Dmitrievna was to speak again but Natasha cried out: - -"Go away! Go away! You all hate and despise me!" and she threw -herself back on the sofa. - -Marya Dmitrievna went on admonishing her for some time, enjoining on -her that it must all be kept from her father and assuring her that -nobody would know anything about it if only Natasha herself would -undertake to forget it all and not let anyone see that something had -happened. Natasha did not reply, nor did she sob any longer, but she -grew cold and had a shivering fit. Marya Dmitrievna put a pillow under -her head, covered her with two quilts, and herself brought her some -lime-flower water, but Natasha did not respond to her. - -"Well, let her sleep," said Marya Dmitrievna as she went of the room -supposing Natasha to be asleep. - -But Natasha was not asleep; with pale face and fixed wide-open -eyes she looked straight before her. All that night she did not -sleep or weep and did not speak to Sonya who got up and went to her -several times. - -Next day Count Rostov returned from his estate near Moscow in time -for lunch as he had promised. He was in very good spirits; the -affair with the purchaser was going on satisfactorily, and there was -nothing to keep him any longer in Moscow, away from the countess -whom he missed. Marya Dmitrievna met him and told him that Natasha had -been very unwell the day before and that they had sent for the doctor, -but that she was better now. Natasha had not left her room that -morning. With compressed and parched lips and dry fixed eyes, she -sat at the window, uneasily watching the people who drove past and -hurriedly glancing round at anyone who entered the room. She was -evidently expecting news of him and that he would come or would -write to her. - -When the count came to see her she turned anxiously round at the -sound of a man's footstep, and then her face resumed its cold and -malevolent expression. She did not even get up to greet him. "What -is the matter with you, my angel? Are you ill?" asked the count. - -After a moment's silence Natasha answered: "Yes, ill." - -In reply to the count's anxious inquiries as to why she was so -dejected and whether anything had happened to her betrothed, she -assured him that nothing had happened and asked him not to worry. -Marya Dmitrievna confirmed Natasha's assurances that nothing had -happened. From the pretense of illness, from his daughter's -distress, and by the embarrassed faces of Sonya and Marya -Dmitrievna, the count saw clearly that something had gone wrong during -his absence, but it was so terrible for him to think that anything -disgraceful had happened to his beloved daughter, and he so prized his -own cheerful tranquillity, that he avoided inquiries and tried to -assure himself that nothing particularly had happened; and he was only -dissatisfied that her indisposition delayed their return to the -country. - -CHAPTER XIX - -From the day his wife arrived in Moscow Pierre had been intending to -go away somewhere, so as not to be near her. Soon after the Rostovs -came to Moscow the effect Natasha had on him made him hasten to -carry out his intention. He went to Tver to see Joseph Alexeevich's -widow, who had long since promised to hand over to him some papers -of her deceased husband's. - -When he returned to Moscow Pierre was handed a letter from Marya -Dmitrievna asking him to come and see her on a matter of great -importance relating to Andrew Bolkonski and his betrothed. Pierre -had been avoiding Natasha because it seemed to him that his feeling -for her was stronger than a married man's should be for his friend's -fiancee. Yet some fate constantly threw them together. - -"What can have happened? And what can they want with me?" thought he -as he dressed to go to Marya Dmitrievna's. "If only Prince Andrew -would hurry up and come and marry her!" thought he on his way to the -house. - -On the Tverskoy Boulevard a familiar voice called to him. - -"Pierre! Been back long?" someone shouted. Pierre raised his head. -In a sleigh drawn by two gray trotting-horses that were bespattering -the dashboard with snow, Anatole and his constant companion Makarin -dashed past. Anatole was sitting upright in the classic pose of -military dandies, the lower part of his face hidden by his beaver -collar and his head slightly bent. His face was fresh and rosy, his -white-plumed hat, tilted to one side, disclosed his curled and pomaded -hair besprinkled with powdery snow. - -"Yes, indeed, that's a true sage," thought Pierre. "He sees -nothing beyond the pleasure of the moment, nothing troubles him and so -he is always cheerful, satisfied, and serene. What wouldn't I give -to be like him!" he thought enviously. - -In Marya Dmitrievna's anteroom the footman who helped him off with -his fur coat said that the mistress asked him to come to her bedroom. - -When he opened the ballroom door Pierre saw Natasha sitting at the -window, with a thin, pale, and spiteful face. She glanced round at -him, frowned, and left the room with an expression of cold dignity. - -"What has happened?" asked Pierre, entering Marya Dmitrievna's room. - -"Fine doings!" answered Dmitrievna. "For fifty-eight years have I -lived in this world and never known anything so disgraceful!" - -And having put him on his honor not to repeat anything she told him, -Marya Dmitrievna informed him that Natasha had refused Prince Andrew -without her parents' knowledge and that the cause of this was -Anatole Kuragin into whose society Pierre's wife had thrown her and -with whom Natasha had tried to elope during her father's absence, in -order to be married secretly. - -Pierre raised his shoulders and listened open-mouthed to what was -told him, scarcely able to believe his own ears. That Prince -Andrew's deeply loved affianced wife- the same Natasha Rostova who -used to be so charming- should give up Bolkonski for that fool Anatole -who was already secretly married (as Pierre knew), and should be so in -love with him as to agree to run away with him, was something Pierre -could not conceive and could not imagine. - -He could not reconcile the charming impression he had of Natasha, -whom he had known from a child, with this new conception of her -baseness, folly, and cruelty. He thought of his wife. "They are all -alike!" he said to himself, reflecting that he was not the only man -unfortunate enough to be tied to a bad woman. But still he pitied -Prince Andrew to the point of tears and sympathized with his wounded -pride, and the more he pitied his friend the more did he think with -contempt and even with disgust of that Natasha who had just passed him -in the ballroom with such a look of cold dignity. He did not know that -Natasha's soul was overflowing with despair, shame, and humiliation, -and that it was not her fault that her face happened to assume an -expression of calm dignity and severity. - -"But how get married?" said Pierre, in answer to Marya Dmitrievna. -"He could not marry- he is married!" - -"Things get worse from hour to hour!" ejaculated Marya Dmitrievna. -"A nice youth! What a scoundrel! And she's expecting him- expecting -him since yesterday. She must be told! Then at least she won't go on -expecting him." - -After hearing the details of Anatole's marriage from Pierre, and -giving vent to her anger against Anatole in words of abuse, Marya -Dmitrievna told Pierre why she had sent for him. She was afraid that -the count or Bolkonski, who might arrive at any moment, if they knew -of this affair (which she hoped to hide from them) might challenge -Anatole to a duel, and she therefore asked Pierre to tell his -brother-in-law in her name to leave Moscow and not dare to let her set -eyes on him again. Pierre- only now realizing the danger to the old -count, Nicholas, and Prince Andrew- promised to do as she wished. -Having briefly and exactly explained her wishes to him, she let him go -to the drawing room. - -"Mind, the count knows nothing. Behave as if you know nothing -either," she said. "And I will go and tell her it is no use -expecting him! And stay to dinner if you care to!" she called after -Pierre. - -Pierre met the old count, who seemed nervous and upset. That morning -Natasha had told him that she had rejected Bolkonski. - -"Troubles, troubles, my dear fellow!" he said to Pierre. "What -troubles one has with these girls without their mother! I do so regret -having come here.... I will be frank with you. Have you heard she -has broken off her engagement without consulting anybody? It's true -this engagement never was much to my liking. Of course he is an -excellent man, but still, with his father's disapproval they -wouldn't have been happy, and Natasha won't lack suitors. Still, it -has been going on so long, and to take such a step without father's or -mother's consent! And now she's ill, and God knows what! It's hard, -Count, hard to manage daughters in their mother's absence...." - -Pierre saw that the count was much upset and tried to change the -subject, but the count returned to his troubles. - -Sonya entered the room with an agitated face. - -"Natasha is not quite well; she's in her room and would like to -see you. Marya Dmitrievna is with her and she too asks you to come." - -"Yes, you are a great friend of Bolkonski's, no doubt she wants to -send him a message," said the count. "Oh dear! Oh dear! How happy it -all was!" - -And clutching the spare gray locks on his temples the count left the -room. - -When Marya Dmitrievna told Natasha that Anatole was married, Natasha -did not wish to believe it and insisted on having it confirmed by -Pierre himself. Sonya told Pierre this as she led him along the -corridor to Natasha's room. - -Natasha, pale and stern, was sitting beside Marya Dmitrievna, and -her eyes, glittering feverishly, met Pierre with a questioning look -the moment he entered. She did not smile or nod, but only gazed -fixedly at him, and her look asked only one thing: was he a friend, or -like the others an enemy in regard to Anatole? As for Pierre, he -evidently did not exist for her. - -"He knows all about it," said Marya Dmitrievna pointing to Pierre -and addressing Natasha. "Let him tell you whether I have told the -truth." - -Natasha looked from one to the other as a hunted and wounded -animal looks at the approaching dogs and sportsmen. - -"Natalya Ilynichna," Pierre began, dropping his eyes with a -feeling of pity for her and loathing for the thing he had to do, -"whether it is true or not should make no difference to you, -because..." - -"Then it is not true that he's married!" - -"Yes, it is true." - -"Has he been married long?" she asked. "On your honor?..." - -Pierre gave his word of honor. - -"Is he still here?" she asked, quickly. - -"Yes, I have just seen him." - -She was evidently unable to speak and made a sign with her hands -that they should leave her alone. - -CHAPTER XX - -Pierre did not stay for dinner, but left the room and went away at -once. He drove through the town seeking Anatole Kuragin, at the -thought of whom now the blood rushed to his heart and he felt a -difficulty in breathing. He was not at the ice hills, nor at the -gypsies', nor at Komoneno's. Pierre drove to the Club. In the Club all -was going on as usual. The members who were assembling for dinner were -sitting about in groups; they greeted Pierre and spoke of the town -news. The footman having greeted him, knowing his habits and his -acquaintances, told him there was a place left for him in the small -dining room and that Prince Michael Zakharych was in the library, -but Paul Timofeevich had not yet arrived. One of Pierre's -acquaintances, while they were talking about the weather, asked if -he had heard of Kuragin's abduction of Rostova which was talked of -in the town, and was it true? Pierre laughed and said it was -nonsense for he had just come from the Rostovs'. He asked everyone -about Anatole. One man told him he had not come yet, and another -that he was coming to dinner. Pierre felt it strange to see this calm, -indifferent crowd of people unaware of what was going on in his -soul. He paced through the ballroom, waited till everyone had come, -and as Anatole had not turned up did not stay for dinner but drove -home. - -Anatole, for whom Pierre was looking, dined that day with -Dolokhov, consulting him as to how to remedy this unfortunate -affair. It seemed to him essential to see Natasha. In the evening he -drove to his sister's to discuss with her how to arrange a meeting. -When Pierre returned home after vainly hunting all over Moscow, his -valet informed him that Prince Anatole was with the countess. The -countess' drawing room was full of guests. - -Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since his -return- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever- -entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him. - -"Ah, Pierre," said the countess going up to her husband. "You -don't know what a plight our Anatole..." - -She stopped, seeing in the forward thrust of her husband's head, -in his glowing eyes and his resolute gait, the terrible indications of -that rage and strength which she knew and had herself experienced -after his duel with Dolokhov. - -"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife. -"Anatole, come with me! I must speak to you," he added in French. - -Anatole glanced round at his sister and rose submissively, ready -to follow Pierre. Pierre, taking him by the arm, pulled him toward -himself and was leading him from the room. - -"If you allow yourself in my drawing room..." whispered Helene, -but Pierre did not reply and went out of the room. - -Anatole followed him with his usual jaunty step but his face -betrayed anxiety. - -Having entered his study Pierre closed the door and addressed -Anatole without looking at him. - -"You promised Countess Rostova to marry her and were about to -elope with her, is that so?" - -"Mon cher," answered Anatole (their whole conversation was in -French), "I don't consider myself bound to answer questions put to -me in that tone." - -Pierre's face, already pale, became distorted by fury. He seized -Anatole by the collar of his uniform with his big hand and shook him -from side to side till Anatole's face showed a sufficient degree of -terror. - -"When I tell you that I must talk to you!..." repeated Pierre. - -"Come now, this is stupid. What?" said Anatole, fingering a button -of his collar that had been wrenched loose with a bit of the cloth. - -"You're a scoundrel and a blackguard, and I don't know what deprives -me from the pleasure of smashing your head with this!" said Pierre, -expressing himself so artificially because he was talking French. - -He took a heavy paperweight and lifted it threateningly, but at once -put it back in its place. - -"Did you promise to marry her?" - -"I... I didn't think of it. I never promised, because..." - -Pierre interrupted him. - -"Have you any letters of hers? Any letters?" he said, moving -toward Anatole. - -Anatole glanced at him and immediately thrust his hand into his -pocket and drew out his pocketbook. - -Pierre took the letter Anatole handed him and, pushing aside a table -that stood in his way, threw himself on the sofa. - -"I shan't be violent, don't be afraid!" said Pierre in answer to a -frightened gesture of Anatole's. "First, the letters," said he, as -if repeating a lesson to himself. "Secondly," he continued after a -short pause, again rising and again pacing the room, "tomorrow you -must get out of Moscow." - -"But how can I?..." - -"Thirdly," Pierre continued without listening to him, "you must -never breathe a word of what has passed between you and Countess -Rostova. I know I can't prevent your doing so, but if you have a spark -of conscience..." Pierre paced the room several times in silence. - -Anatole sat at a table frowning and biting his lips. - -"After all, you must understand that besides your pleasure there -is such a thing as other people's happiness and peace, and that you -are ruining a whole life for the sake of amusing yourself! Amuse -yourself with women like my wife- with them you are within your -rights, for they know what you want of them. They are armed against -you by the same experience of debauchery; but to promise a maid to -marry her... to deceive, to kidnap.... Don't you understand that it is -as mean as beating an old man or a child?..." - -Pierre paused and looked at Anatole no longer with an angry but with -a questioning look. - -"I don't know about that, eh?" said Anatole, growing more -confident as Pierre mastered his wrath. "I don't know that and don't -want to," he said, not looking at Pierre and with a slight tremor of -his lower jaw, "but you have used such words to me- 'mean' and so -on- which as a man of honor I can't allow anyone to use." - -Pierre glanced at him with amazement, unable to understand what he -wanted. - -"Though it was tete-a-tete," Anatole continued, "still I can't..." - -"Is it satisfaction you want?" said Pierre ironically. - -"You could at least take back your words. What? If you want me to do -as you wish, eh?" - -"I take them back, I take them back!" said Pierre, "and I ask you to -forgive me." Pierre involuntarily glanced at the loose button. "And if -you require money for your journey..." - -Anatole smiled. The expression of that base and cringing smile, -which Pierre knew so well in his wife, revolted him. - -"Oh, vile and heartless brood!" he exclaimed, and left the room. - -Next day Anatole left for Petersburg. - -CHAPTER XXI - -Pierre drove to Marya Dmitrievna's to tell her of the fulfillment of -her wish that Kuragin should be banished from Moscow. The whole -house was in a state of alarm and commotion. Natasha was very ill, -having, as Marya Dmitrievna told him in secret, poisoned herself the -night after she had been told that Anatole was married, with some -arsenic she had stealthily procured. After swallowing a little she had -been so frightened that she woke Sonya and told her what she had done. -The necessary antidotes had been administered in time and she was -now out of danger, though still so weak that it was out of the -question to move her to the country, and so the countess had been sent -for. Pierre saw the distracted count, and Sonya, who had a -tear-stained face, but he could not see Natasha. - -Pierre dined at the club that day and heard on all sides gossip -about the attempted abduction of Rostova. He resolutely denied these -rumors, assuring everyone that nothing had happened except that his -brother-in-law had proposed to her and been refused. It seemed to -Pierre that it was his duty to conceal the whole affair and -re-establish Natasha's reputation. - -He was awaiting Prince Andrew's return with dread and went every day -to the old prince's for news of him. - -Old Prince Bolkonski heard all the rumors current in the town from -Mademoiselle Bourienne and had read the note to Princess Mary in which -Natasha had broken off her engagement. He seemed in better spirits -than usual and awaited his son with great impatience. - -Some days after Anatole's departure Pierre received a note from -Prince Andrew, informing him of his arrival and asking him to come -to see him. - -As soon as he reached Moscow, Prince Andrew had received from his -father Natasha's note to Princess Mary breaking off her engagement -(Mademoiselle Bourienne had purloined it from Princess Mary and -given it to the old prince), and he heard from him the story of -Natasha's elopement, with additions. - -Prince Andrew had arrived in the evening and Pierre came to see -him next morning. Pierre expected to find Prince Andrew in almost -the same state as Natasha and was therefore surprised on entering -the drawing room to hear him in the study talking in a loud animated -voice about some intrigue going on in Petersburg. The old prince's -voice and another now and then interrupted him. Princess Mary came out -to meet Pierre. She sighed, looking toward the door of the room -where Prince Andrew was, evidently intending to express her sympathy -with his sorrow, but Pierre saw by her face that she was glad both -at what had happened and at the way her brother had taken the news -of Natasha's faithlessness. - -"He says he expected it," she remarked. "I know his pride will not -let him express his feelings, but still he has taken it better, far -better, than I expected. Evidently it had to be...." - -"But is it possible that all is really ended?" asked Pierre. - -Princess Mary looked at him with astonishment. She did not -understand how he could ask such a question. Pierre went into the -study. Prince Andrew, greatly changed and plainly in better health, -but with a fresh horizontal wrinkle between his brows, stood in -civilian dress facing his father and Prince Meshcherski, warmly -disputing and vigorously gesticulating. The conversation was about -Speranski- the news of whose sudden exile and alleged treachery had -just reached Moscow. - -"Now he is censured and accused by all who were enthusiastic about -him a month ago," Prince Andrew was saying, "and by those who were -unable to understand his aims. To judge a man who is in disfavor and -to throw on him all the blame of other men's mistakes is very easy, -but I maintain that if anything good has been accomplished in this -reign it was done by him, by him alone." - -He paused at the sight of Pierre. His face quivered and -immediately assumed a vindictive expression. - -"Posterity will do him justice," he concluded, and at once turned to -Pierre. - -"Well, how are you? Still getting stouter?" he said with -animation, but the new wrinkle on his forehead deepened. "Yes, I am -well," he said in answer to Pierre's question, and smiled. - -To Pierre that smile said plainly: "I am well, but my health is -now of no use to anyone." - -After a few words to Pierre about the awful roads from the Polish -frontier, about people he had met in Switzerland who knew Pierre, -and about M. Dessalles, whom he had brought from abroad to be his -son's tutor, Prince Andrew again joined warmly in the conversation -about Speranski which was still going on between the two old men. - -"If there were treason, or proofs of secret relations with Napoleon, -they would have been made public," he said with warmth and haste. "I -do not, and never did, like Speranski personally, but I like justice!" - -Pierre now recognized in his friend a need with which he was only -too familiar, to get excited and to have arguments about extraneous -matters in order to stifle thoughts that were too oppressive and too -intimate. When Prince Meshcherski had left, Prince Andrew took -Pierre's arm and asked him into the room that had been assigned him. A -bed had been made up there, and some open portmanteaus and trunks -stood about. Prince Andrew went to one and took out a small casket, -from which he drew a packet wrapped in paper. He did it all silently -and very quickly. He stood up and coughed. His face was gloomy and his -lips compressed. - -"Forgive me for troubling you..." - -Pierre saw that Prince Andrew was going to speak of Natasha, and his -broad face expressed pity and sympathy. This expression irritated -Prince Andrew, and in a determined, ringing, and unpleasant tone he -continued: - -"I have received a refusal from Countess Rostova and have heard -reports of your brother-in-law having sought her hand, or something of -that kind. Is that true?" - -"Both true and untrue," Pierre began; but Prince Andrew -interrupted him. - -"Here are her letters and her portrait," said he. - -He took the packet from the table and handed it to Pierre. - -"Give this to the countess... if you see her." - -"She is very ill," said Pierre. - -"Then she is here still?" said Prince Andrew. "And Prince -Kuragin?" he added quickly. - -"He left long ago. She has been at death's door." - -"I much regret her illness," said Prince Andrew; and he smiled -like his father, coldly, maliciously, and unpleasantly. - -"So Monsieur Kuragin has not honored Countess Rostova with his -hand?" said Prince Andrew, and he snorted several times. - -"He could not marry, for he was married already," said Pierre. - -Prince Andrew laughed disagreeably, again reminding one of his -father. - -"And where is your brother-in-law now, if I may ask?" he said. - -"He has gone to Peters... But I don't know," said Pierre. - -"Well, it doesn't matter," said Prince Andrew. "Tell Countess -Rostova that she was and is perfectly free and that I wish her all -that is good." - -Pierre took the packet. Prince Andrew, as if trying to remember -whether he had something more to say, or waiting to see if Pierre -would say anything, looked fixedly at him. - -"I say, do you remember our discussion in Petersburg?" asked Pierre, -"about..." - -"Yes," returned Prince Andrew hastily. "I said that a fallen woman -should be forgiven, but I didn't say I could forgive her. I can't." - -"But can this be compared...?" said Pierre. - -Prince Andrew interrupted him and cried sharply: "Yes, ask her -hand again, be magnanimous, and so on?... Yes, that would be very -noble, but I am unable to follow in that gentleman's footsteps. If you -wish to be my friend never speak to me of that... of all that! Well, -good-by. So you'll give her the packet?" - -Pierre left the room and went to the old prince and Princess Mary. - -The old man seemed livelier than usual. Princess Mary was the same -as always, but beneath her sympathy for her brother, Pierre noticed -her satisfaction that the engagement had been broken off. Looking at -them Pierre realized what contempt and animosity they all felt for the -Rostovs, and that it was impossible in their presence even to -mention the name of her who could give up Prince Andrew for anyone -else. - -At dinner the talk turned on the war, the approach of which was -becoming evident. Prince Andrew talked incessantly, arguing now with -his father, now with the Swiss tutor Dessalles, and showing an -unnatural animation, the cause of which Pierre so well understood. - -CHAPTER XXII - -That same evening Pierre went to the Rostovs' to fulfill the -commission entrusted to him. Natasha was in bed, the count at the -Club, and Pierre, after giving the letters to Sonya, went to Marya -Dmitrievna who was interested to know how Prince Andrew had taken -the news. Ten minutes later Sonya came to Marya Dmitrievna. - -"Natasha insists on seeing Count Peter Kirilovich," said she. - -"But how? Are we to take him up to her? The room there has not -been tidied up." - -"No, she has dressed and gone into the drawing room," said Sonya. - -Marya Dmitrievna only shrugged her shoulders. - -"When will her mother come? She has worried me to death! Now mind, -don't tell her everything!" said she to Pierre. "One hasn't the -heart to scold her, she is so much to be pitied, so much to be -pitied." - -Natasha was standing in the middle of the drawing room, emaciated, -with a pale set face, but not at all shamefaced as Pierre expected -to find her. When he appeared at the door she grew flurried, evidently -undecided whether to go to meet him or to wait till he came up. - -Pierre hastened to her. He thought she would give him her hand as -usual; but she, stepping up to him, stopped, breathing heavily, her -arms hanging lifelessly just in the pose she used to stand in when she -went to the middle of the ballroom to sing, but with quite a different -expression of face. - -"Peter Kirilovich," she began rapidly, "Prince Bolkonski was your -friend- is your friend," she corrected herself. (It seemed to her that -everything that had once been must now be different.) "He told me once -to apply to you..." - -Pierre sniffed as he looked at her, but did not speak. Till then -he had reproached her in his heart and tried to despise her, but he -now felt so sorry for her that there was no room in his soul for -reproach. - -"He is here now: tell him... to for... forgive me!" She stopped -and breathed still more quickly, but did not shed tears. - -"Yes... I will tell him," answered Pierre; "but..." - -He did not know what to say. - -Natasha was evidently dismayed at the thought of what he might think -she had meant. - -"No, I know all is over," she said hurriedly. "No, that can never -be. I'm only tormented by the wrong I have done him. Tell him only -that I beg him to forgive, forgive, forgive me for everything...." - -She trembled all over and sat down on a chair. - -A sense of pity he had never before known overflowed Pierre's heart. - -"I will tell him, I will tell him everything once more," said -Pierre. "But... I should like to know one thing...." - -"Know what?" Natasha's eyes asked. - -"I should like to know, did you love..." Pierre did not know how -to refer to Anatole and flushed at the thought of him- "did you love -that bad man?" - -"Don't call him bad!" said Natasha. "But I don't know, don't know at -all...." - -She began to cry and a still greater sense of pity, tenderness, -and love welled up in Pierre. He felt the tears trickle under his -spectacles and hoped they would not be noticed. - -"We won't speak of it any more, my dear," said Pierre, and his -gentle, cordial tone suddenly seemed very strange to Natasha. - -"We won't speak of it, my dear- I'll tell him everything; but one -thing I beg of you, consider me your friend and if you want help, -advice, or simply to open your heart to someone- not now, but when -your mind is clearer think of me!" He took her hand and kissed it. -"I shall be happy if it's in my power..." - -Pierre grew confused. - -"Don't speak to me like that. I am not worth it!" exclaimed -Natasha and turned to leave the room, but Pierre held her hand. - -He knew he had something more to say to her. But when he said it -he was amazed at his own words. - -"Stop, stop! You have your whole life before you," said he to her. - -"Before me? No! All is over for me," she replied with shame and -self-abasement. - -"All over?" he repeated. "If I were not myself, but the handsomest, -cleverest, and best man in the world, and were free, I would this -moment ask on my knees for your hand and your love!" - -For the first time for many days Natasha wept tears of gratitude and -tenderness, and glancing at Pierre she went out of the room. - -Pierre too when she had gone almost ran into the anteroom, -restraining tears of tenderness and joy that choked him, and without -finding the sleeves of his fur cloak threw it on and got into his -sleigh. - -"Where to now, your excellency?" asked the coachman. - -"Where to?" Pierre asked himself. "Where can I go now? Surely not to -the Club or to pay calls?" All men seemed so pitiful, so poor, in -comparison with this feeling of tenderness and love he experienced: in -comparison with that softened, grateful, last look she had given him -through her tears. - -"Home!" said Pierre, and despite twenty-two degrees of frost -Fahrenheit he threw open the bearskin cloak from his broad chest and -inhaled the air with joy. - -It was clear and frosty. Above the dirty, ill-lit streets, above the -black roofs, stretched the dark starry sky. Only looking up at the sky -did Pierre cease to feel how sordid and humiliating were all mundane -things compared with the heights to which his soul had just been -raised. At the entrance to the Arbat Square an immense expanse of dark -starry sky presented itself to his eyes. Almost in the center of it, -above the Prechistenka Boulevard, surrounded and sprinkled on all -sides by stars but distinguished from them all by its nearness to -the earth, its white light, and its long uplifted tail, shone the -enormous and brilliant comet of 18l2- the comet which was said to -portend all kinds of woes and the end of the world. In Pierre, -however, that comet with its long luminous tail aroused no feeling -of fear. On the contrary he gazed joyfully, his eyes moist with tears, -at this bright comet which, having traveled in its orbit with -inconceivable velocity through immeasurable space, seemed suddenly- -like an arrow piercing the earth- to remain fixed in a chosen spot, -vigorously holding its tail erect, shining and displaying its white -light amid countless other scintillating stars. It seemed to Pierre -that this comet fully responded to what was passing in his own -softened and uplifted soul, now blossoming into a new life. - -BOOK NINE: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -From the close of the year 1811 intensified arming and concentrating -of the forces of Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces- -millions of men, reckoning those transporting and feeding the army- -moved from the west eastwards to the Russian frontier, toward which -since 1811 Russian forces had been similarly drawn. On the twelfth -of June, 1812, the forces of Western Europe crossed the Russian -frontier and war began, that is, an event took place opposed to -human reason and to human nature. Millions of men perpetrated -against one another such innumerable crimes, frauds, treacheries, -thefts, forgeries, issues of false money, burglaries, incendiarisms, -and murders as in whole centuries are not recorded in the annals of -all the law courts of the world, but which those who committed them -did not at the time regard as being crimes. - -What produced this extraordinary occurrence? What were its causes? -The historians tell us with naive assurance that its causes were the -wrongs inflicted on the Duke of Oldenburg, the nonobservance of the -Continental System, the ambition of Napoleon, the firmness of -Alexander, the mistakes of the diplomatists, and so on. - -Consequently, it would only have been necessary for Metternich, -Rumyantsev, or Talleyrand, between a levee and an evening party, to -have taken proper pains and written a more adroit note, or for -Napoleon to have written to Alexander: "My respected Brother, I -consent to restore the duchy to the Duke of Oldenburg"- and there -would have been no war. - -We can understand that the matter seemed like that to -contemporaries. It naturally seemed to Napoleon that the war was -caused by England's intrigues (as in fact he said on the island of St. -Helena). It naturally seemed to members of the English Parliament that -the cause of the war was Napoleon's ambition; to the Duke of -Oldenburg, that the cause of the war was the violence done to him; -to businessmen that the cause of the way was the Continental System -which was ruining Europe; to the generals and old soldiers that the -chief reason for the war was the necessity of giving them -employment; to the legitimists of that day that it was the need of -re-establishing les bons principes, and to the diplomatists of that -time that it all resulted from the fact that the alliance between -Russia and Austria in 1809 had not been sufficiently well concealed -from Napoleon, and from the awkward wording of Memorandum No. 178. -It is natural that these and a countless and infinite quantity of -other reasons, the number depending on the endless diversity of points -of view, presented themselves to the men of that day; but to us, to -posterity who view the thing that happened in all its magnitude and -perceive its plain and terrible meaning, these causes seem -insufficient. To us it is incomprehensible that millions of -Christian men killed and tortured each other either because Napoleon -was ambitious or Alexander was firm, or because England's policy was -astute or the Duke of Oldenburg wronged. We cannot grasp what -connection such circumstances have with the actual fact of slaughter -and violence: why because the Duke was wronged, thousands of men -from the other side of Europe killed and ruined the people of Smolensk -and Moscow and were killed by them. - -To us, their descendants, who are not historians and are not carried -away by the process of research and can therefore regard the event -with unclouded common sense, an incalculable number of causes -present themselves. The deeper we delve in search of these causes -the more of them we find; and each separate cause or whole series of -causes appears to us equally valid in itself and equally false by -its insignificance compared to the magnitude of the events, and by its -impotence- apart from the cooperation of all the other coincident -causes- to occasion the event. To us, the wish or objection of this or -that French corporal to serve a second term appears as much a cause as -Napoleon's refusal to withdraw his troops beyond the Vistula and to -restore the duchy of Oldenburg; for had he not wished to serve, and -had a second, a third, and a thousandth corporal and private also -refused, there would have been so many less men in Napoleon's army and -the war could not have occurred. - -Had Napoleon not taken offense at the demand that he should withdraw -beyond the Vistula, and not ordered his troops to advance, there would -have been no war; but had all his sergeants objected to serving a -second term then also there could have been no war. Nor could there -have been a war had there been no English intrigues and no Duke of -Oldenburg, and had Alexander not felt insulted, and had there not been -an autocratic government in Russia, or a Revolution in France and a -subsequent dictatorship and Empire, or all the things that produced -the French Revolution, and so on. Without each of these causes nothing -could have happened. So all these causes- myriads of causes- coincided -to bring it about. And so there was no one cause for that -occurrence, but it had to occur because it had to. Millions of men, -renouncing their human feelings and reason, had to go from west to -east to slay their fellows, just as some centuries previously hordes -of men had come from the east to the west, slaying their fellows. - -The actions of Napoleon and Alexander, on whose words the event -seemed to hang, were as little voluntary as the actions of any soldier -who was drawn into the campaign by lot or by conscription. This -could not be otherwise, for in order that the will of Napoleon and -Alexander (on whom the event seemed to depend) should be carried -out, the concurrence of innumerable circumstances was needed without -any one of which the event could not have taken place. It was -necessary that millions of men in whose hands lay the real power- -the soldiers who fired, or transported provisions and guns- should -consent to carry out the will of these weak individuals, and should -have been induced to do so by an infinite number of diverse and -complex causes. - -We are forced to fall back on fatalism as an explanation of -irrational events (that is to say, events the reasonableness of -which we do not understand). The more we try to explain such events in -history reasonably, the more unreasonable and incomprehensible do they -become to us. - -Each man lives for himself, using his freedom to attain his personal -aims, and feels with his whole being that he can now do or abstain -from doing this or that action; but as soon as he has done it, that -action performed at a certain moment in time becomes irrevocable and -belongs to history, in which it has not a free but a predestined -significance. - -There are two sides to the life of every man, his individual life, -which is the more free the more abstract its interests, and his -elemental hive life in which he inevitably obeys laws laid down for -him. - -Man lives consciously for himself, but is an unconscious -instrument in the attainment of the historic, universal, aims of -humanity. A deed done is irrevocable, and its result coinciding in -time with the actions of millions of other men assumes an historic -significance. The higher a man stands on the social ladder, the more -people he is connected with and the more power he has over others, the -more evident is the predestination and inevitability of his every -action. - -"The king's heart is in the hands of the Lord." - -A king is history's slave. - -History, that is, the unconscious, general, hive life of mankind, -uses every moment of the life of kings as a tool for its own purposes. - -Though Napoleon at that time, in 1812, was more convinced than -ever that it depended on him, verser (ou ne pas verser) le sang de ses -peuples~{ "To shed (or not to shed) the blood of his peoples." }~ as Alexander expressed it in the last letter he wrote him- -he had never been so much in the grip of inevitable laws, which -compelled him, while thinking that he was acting on his own -volition, to perform for the hive life- that is to say, for history- -whatever had to be performed. - -The people of the west moved eastwards to slay their fellow men, and -by the law of coincidence thousands of minute causes fitted in and -co-ordinated to produce that movement and war: reproaches for the -nonobservance of the Continental System, the Duke of Oldenburg's -wrongs, the movement of troops into Prussia- undertaken (as it -seemed to Napoleon) only for the purpose of securing an armed peace, -the French Emperor's love and habit of war coinciding with his -people's inclinations, allurement by the grandeur of the preparations, -and the expenditure on those preparations and the need of obtaining -advantages to compensate for that expenditure, the intoxicating honors -he received in Dresden, the diplomatic negotiations which, in the -opinion of contemporaries, were carried on with a sincere desire to -attain peace, but which only wounded the self-love of both sides, -and millions and millions of other causes that adapted themselves to -the event that was happening or coincided with it. - -When an apple has ripened and falls, why does it fall? Because of -its attraction to the earth, because its stalk withers, because it -is dried by the sun, because it grows heavier, because the wind shakes -it, or because the boy standing below wants to eat it? - -Nothing is the cause. All this is only the coincidence of conditions -in which all vital organic and elemental events occur. And the -botanist who finds that the apple falls because the cellular tissue -decays and so forth is equally right with the child who stands under -the tree and says the apple fell because he wanted to eat it and -prayed for it. Equally right or wrong is he who says that Napoleon -went to Moscow because he wanted to, and perished because Alexander -desired his destruction, and he who says that an undermined hill -weighing a million tons fell because the last navvy struck it for -the last time with his mattock. In historic events the so-called great -men are labels giving names to events, and like labels they have but -the smallest connection with the event itself. - -Every act of theirs, which appears to them an act of their own will, -is in an historical sense involuntary and is related to the whole -course of history and predestined from eternity. - -CHAPTER II - -On the twenty-ninth of May Napoleon left Dresden, where he had spent -three weeks surrounded by a court that included princes, dukes, kings, -and even an emperor. Before leaving, Napoleon showed favor to the -emperor, kings, and princes who had deserved it, reprimanded the kings -and princes with whom he was dissatisfied, presented pearls and -diamonds of his own- that is, which he had taken from other kings- -to the Empress of Austria, and having, as his historian tells us, -tenderly embraced the Empress Marie Louise- who regarded him as her -husband, though he had left another wife in Paris- left her grieved by -the parting which she seemed hardly able to bear. Though the -diplomatists still firmly believed in the possibility of peace and -worked zealously to that end, and though the Emperor Napoleon -himself wrote a letter to Alexander, calling him Monsieur mon frere, -and sincerely assured him that he did not want war and would always -love and honor him- yet he set off to join his army, and at every -station gave fresh orders to accelerate the movement of his troops -from west to east. He went in a traveling coach with six horses, -surrounded by pages, aides-de-camp, and an escort, along the road to -Posen, Thorn, Danzig, and Konigsberg. At each of these towns thousands -of people met him with excitement and enthusiasm. - -The army was moving from west to east, and relays of six horses -carried him in the same direction. On the tenth of June,~{ Old style. }~ coming up -with the army, he spent the night in apartments prepared for him on -the estate of a Polish count in the Vilkavisski forest. - -Next day, overtaking the army, he went in a carriage to the -Niemen, and, changing into a Polish uniform, he drove to the riverbank -in order to select a place for the crossing. - -Seeing, on the other side, some Cossacks (les Cosaques) and the -wide-spreading steppes in the midst of which lay the holy city of -Moscow (Moscou, la ville sainte), the capital of a realm such as the -Scythia into which Alexander the Great had marched- Napoleon -unexpectedly, and contrary alike to strategic and diplomatic -considerations, ordered an advance, and the next day his army began to -cross the Niemen. - -Early in the morning of the twelfth of June he came out of his tent, -which was pitched that day on the steep left bank of the Niemen, and -looked through a spyglass at the streams of his troops pouring out -of the Vilkavisski forest and flowing over the three bridges thrown -across the river. The troops, knowing of the Emperor's presence, -were on the lookout for him, and when they caught sight of a figure in -an overcoat and a cocked hat standing apart from his suite in front of -his tent on the hill, they threw up their caps and shouted: "Vive -l'Empereur!" and one after another poured in a ceaseless stream out of -the vast forest that had concealed them and, separating, flowed on and -on by the three bridges to the other side. - -"Now we'll go into action. Oh, when he takes it in hand himself, -things get hot... by heaven!... There he is!... Vive l'Empereur! So -these are the steppes of Asia! It's a nasty country all the same. Au -revoir, Beauche; I'll keep the best palace in Moscow for you! Au -revoir. Good luck!... Did you see the Emperor? Vive l'Empereur!... -preur!- If they make me Governor of India, Gerard, I'll make you -Minister of Kashmir- that's settled. Vive l'Empereur! Hurrah! -hurrah! hurrah! The Cossacks- those rascals- see how they run! Vive -l'Empereur! There he is, do you see him? I've seen him twice, as I see -you now. The little corporal... I saw him give the cross to one of the -veterans.... Vive l'Empereur!" came the voices of men, old and -young, of most diverse characters and social positions. On the faces -of all was one common expression of joy at the commencement of the -long-expected campaign and of rapture and devotion to the man in the -gray coat who was standing on the hill. - -On the thirteenth of June a rather small, thoroughbred Arab horse -was brought to Napoleon. He mounted it and rode at a gallop to one -of the bridges over the Niemen, deafened continually by incessant -and rapturous acclamations which he evidently endured only because -it was impossible to forbid the soldiers to express their love of -him by such shouting, but the shouting which accompanied him -everywhere disturbed him and distracted him from the military cares -that had occupied him from the time he joined the army. He rode across -one of the swaying pontoon bridges to the farther side, turned sharply -to the left, and galloped in the direction of Kovno, preceded by -enraptured, mounted chasseurs of the Guard who, breathless with -delight, galloped ahead to clear a path for him through the troops. On -reaching the broad river Viliya, he stopped near a regiment of -Polish Uhlans stationed by the river. - -"Vivat!" shouted the Poles, ecstatically, breaking their ranks and -pressing against one another to see him. - -Napoleon looked up and down the river, dismounted, and sat down on a -log that lay on the bank. At a mute sign from him, a telescope was -handed him which he rested on the back of a happy page who had run -up to him, and he gazed at the opposite bank. Then he became -absorbed in a map laid out on the logs. Without lifting his head he -said something, and two of his aides-de-camp galloped off to the -Polish Uhlans. - -"What? What did he say?" was heard in the ranks of the Polish Uhlans -when one of the aides-de-camp rode up to them. - -The order was to find a ford and to cross the river. The colonel -of the Polish Uhlans, a handsome old man, flushed and, fumbling in his -speech from excitement, asked the aide-de-camp whether he would be -permitted to swim the river with his Uhlans instead of seeking a ford. -In evident fear of refusal, like a boy asking for permission to get on -a horse, he begged to be allowed to swim across the river before the -Emperor's eyes. The aide-de-camp replied that probably the Emperor -would not be displeased at this excess of zeal. - -As soon as the aide-de-camp had said this, the old mustached -officer, with happy face and sparkling eyes, raised his saber, shouted -"Vivat!" and, commanding the Uhlans to follow him, spurred his horse -and galloped into the river. He gave an angry thrust to his horse, -which had grown restive under him, and plunged into the water, heading -for the deepest part where the current was swift. Hundreds of Uhlans -galloped in after him. It was cold and uncanny in the rapid current in -the middle of the stream, and the Uhlans caught hold of one another as -they fell off their horses. Some of the horses were drowned and some -of the men; the others tried to swim on, some in the saddle and some -clinging to their horses' manes. They tried to make their way -forward to the opposite bank and, though there was a ford one third of -a mile away, were proud that they were swimming and drowning in this -river under the eyes of the man who sat on the log and was not even -looking at what they were doing. When the aide-de-camp, having -returned and choosing an opportune moment, ventured to draw the -Emperor's attention to the devotion of the Poles to his person, the -little man in the gray overcoat got up and, having summoned -Berthier, began pacing up and down the bank with him, giving him -instructions and occasionally glancing disapprovingly at the -drowning Uhlans who distracted his attention. - -For him it was no new conviction that his presence in any part of -the world, from Africa to the steppes of Muscovy alike, was enough -to dumfound people and impel them to insane self-oblivion. He called -for his horse and rode to his quarters. - -Some forty Uhlans were drowned in the river, though boats were -sent to their assistance. The majority struggled back to the bank from -which they had started. The colonel and some of his men got across and -with difficulty clambered out on the further bank. And as soon as they -had got out, in their soaked and streaming clothes, they shouted -"Vivat!" and looked ecstatically at the spot where Napoleon had been -but where he no longer was and at that moment considered themselves -happy. - -That evening, between issuing one order that the forged Russian -paper money prepared for use in Russia should be delivered as -quickly as possible and another that a Saxon should be shot, on whom a -letter containing information about the orders to the French army -had been found, Napoleon also gave instructions that the Polish -colonel who had needlessly plunged into the river should be enrolled -in the Legion d'honneur of which Napoleon was himself the head. - -Quos vult perdere dementat.~{ Those whom (God) wishes to destroy he drives mad. }~ - -CHAPTER III - -The Emperor of Russia had, meanwhile, been in Vilna for more than -a month. reviewing troops and holding maneuvers. Nothing was ready for -the war that everyone expected and to prepare for which the Emperor -had come from Petersburg. There was no general plan of action. The -vacillation between the various plans that were proposed had even -increased after the Emperor had been at headquarters for a month. Each -of the three armies had its own commander in chief, but there was no -supreme commander of all the forces, and the Emperor did not assume -that responsibility himself. - -The longer the Emperor remained in Vilna the less did everybody- -tired of waiting- prepare for the war. All the efforts of those who -surrounded the sovereign seemed directed merely to making him spend -his time pleasantly and forget that war was impending. - -In June, after many balls and fetes given by the Polish magnates, by -the courtiers, and by the Emperor himself, it occurred to one of the -Polish aides-de-camp in attendance that a dinner and ball should be -given for the Emperor by his aides-de-camp. This idea was eagerly -received. The Emperor gave his consent. The aides-de-camp collected -money by subscription. The lady who was thought to be most pleasing to -the Emperor was invited to act as hostess. Count Bennigsen, being a -landowner in the Vilna province, offered his country house for the -fete, and the thirteenth of June was fixed for a ball, dinner, -regatta, and fireworks at Zakret, Count Bennigsen's country seat. - -The very day that Napoleon issued the order to cross the Niemen, and -his vanguard, driving off the Cossacks, crossed the Russian -frontier, Alexander spent the evening at the entertainment given by -his aides-de-camp at Bennigsen's country house. - -It was a gay and brilliant fete. Connoisseurs of such matters -declared that rarely had so many beautiful women been assembled in one -place. Countess Bezukhova was present among other Russian ladies who -had followed the sovereign from Petersburg to Vilna and eclipsed the -refined Polish ladies by her massive, so called Russian type of -beauty. The Emperor noticed her and honored her with a dance. - -Boris Drubetskoy, having left his wife in Moscow and being for the -present en garcon (as he phrased it), was also there and, though not -an aide-de-camp, had subscribed a large sum toward the expenses. Boris -was now a rich man who had risen to high honors and no longer sought -patronage but stood on an equal footing with the highest of those of -his own age. He was meeting Helene in Vilna after not having seen -her for a long time and did not recall the past, but as Helene was -enjoying the favors of a very important personage and Boris had only -recently married, they met as good friends of long standing. - -At midnight dancing was still going on. Helene, not having a -suitable partner, herself offered to dance the mazurka with Boris. -They were the third couple. Boris, coolly looking at Helene's dazzling -bare shoulders which emerged from a dark, gold-embroidered, gauze -gown, talked to her of old acquaintances and at the same time, unaware -of it himself and unnoticed by others, never for an instant ceased -to observe the Emperor who was in the same room. The Emperor was not -dancing, he stood in the doorway, stopping now one pair and now -another with gracious words which he alone knew how to utter. - -As the mazurka began, Boris saw that Adjutant General Balashev, -one of those in closest attendance on the Emperor, went up to him -and contrary to court etiquette stood near him while he was talking to -a Polish lady. Having finished speaking to her, the Emperor looked -inquiringly at Balashev and, evidently understanding that he only -acted thus because there were important reasons for so doing, nodded -slightly to the lady and turned to him. Hardly had Balashev begun to -speak before a look of amazement appeared on the Emperor's face. He -took Balashev by the arm and crossed the room with him, -unconsciously clearing a path seven yards wide as the people on both -sides made way for him. Boris noticed Arakcheev's excited face when -the sovereign went out with Balashev. Arakcheev looked at the -Emperor from under his brow and, sniffing with his red nose, stepped -forward from the crowd as if expecting the Emperor to address him. -(Boris understood that Arakcheev envied Balashev and was displeased -that evidently important news had reached the Emperor otherwise than -through himself.) - -But the Emperor and Balashev passed out into the illuminated -garden without noticing Arakcheev who, holding his sword and -glancing wrathfully around, followed some twenty paces behind them. - -All the time Boris was going through the figures of the mazurka, -he was worried by the question of what news Balashev had brought and -how he could find it out before others. In the figure in which he -had to choose two ladies, he whispered to Helene that he meant to -choose Countess Potocka who, he thought, had gone out onto the -veranda, and glided over the parquet to the door opening into the -garden, where, seeing Balashev and the Emperor returning to the -veranda, he stood still. They were moving toward the door. Boris, -fluttering as if he had not had time to withdraw, respectfully pressed -close to the doorpost with bowed head. - -The Emperor, with the agitation of one who has been personally -affronted, was finishing with these words: - -"To enter Russia without declaring war! I will not make peace as -long as a single armed enemy remains in my country!" It seemed to -Boris that it gave the Emperor pleasure to utter these words. He was -satisfied with the form in which he had expressed his thoughts, but -displeased that Boris had overheard it. - -"Let no one know of it! " the Emperor added with a frown. - -Boris understood that this was meant for him and, closing his -eyes, slightly bowed his head. The Emperor re-entered the ballroom and -remained there about another half-hour. - -Boris was thus the first to learn the news that the French army -had crossed the Niemen and, thanks to this, was able to show certain -important personages that much that was concealed from others was -usually known to him, and by this means he rose higher in their -estimation. - -The unexpected news of the French having crossed the Niemen was -particularly startling after a month of unfulfilled expectations, -and at a ball. On first receiving the news, under the influence of -indignation and resentment the Emperor had found a phrase that pleased -him, fully expressed his feelings, and has since become famous. On -returning home at two o'clock that night he sent for his secretary, -Shishkov, and told him to write an order to the troops and a -rescript to Field Marshal Prince Saltykov, in which he insisted on the -words being inserted that he would not make peace so long as a -single armed Frenchman remained on Russian soil. - -Next day the following letter was sent to Napoleon: - -Monsieur mon frere, - -Yesterday I learned that, despite the loyalty which I have kept my -engagements with Your Majesty, your troops have crossed the Russian -frontier, and I have this moment received from Petersburg a note, in -which Count Lauriston informs me, as a reason for this aggression, -that Your Majesty has considered yourself to be in a state of war with -me from the time Prince Kuragin asked for his passports. The reasons -on which the Duc de Bassano based his refusal to deliver them to him -would never have led me to suppose that that could serve as a -pretext for aggression. In fact, the ambassador, as he himself has -declared, was never authorized to make that demand, and as soon as I -was informed of it I let him know how much I disapproved of it and -ordered him to remain at his post. If Your Majesty does not intend -to shed the blood of our peoples for such a misunderstanding, and -consents to withdraw your troops from Russian territory, I will regard -what has passed as not having occurred and an understanding between us -will be possible. In the contrary case, Your Majesty, I shall see -myself forced to repel an attack that nothing on my part has provoked. -It still depends on Your Majesty to preserve humanity from the -calamity of another war. I am, etc., - -(signed) Alexander - -CHAPTER IV - -At two in the morning of the fourteenth of June, the Emperor, having -sent for Balashev and read him his letter to Napoleon, ordered him -to take it and hand it personally to the French Emperor. When -dispatching Balashev, the Emperor repeated to him the words that he -would not make peace so long as a single armed enemy remained on -Russian soil and told him to transmit those words to Napoleon. -Alexander did not insert them in his letter to Napoleon, because -with his characteristic tact he felt it would be injudicious to use -them at a moment when a last attempt at reconciliation was being made, -but he definitely instructed Balashev to repeat them personally to -Napoleon. - -Having set off in the small hours of the fourteenth, accompanied -by a bugler and two Cossacks, Balashev reached the French outposts -at the village of Rykonty, on the Russian side of the Niemen, by dawn. -There he was stopped by French cavalry sentinels. - -A French noncommissioned officer of hussars, in crimson uniform -and a shaggy cap, shouted to the approaching Balashev to halt. -Balashev did not do so at once, but continued to advance along the -road at a walking pace. - -The noncommissioned officer frowned and, muttering words of abuse, -advanced his horse's chest against Balashev, put his hand to his -saber, and shouted rudely at the Russian general, asking: was he -deaf that he did not do as he was told? Balashev mentioned who he was. -The noncommissioned officer began talking with his comrades about -regimental matters without looking at the Russian general. - -After living at the seat of the highest authority and power, after -conversing with the Emperor less than three hours before, and in -general being accustomed to the respect due to his rank in the -service, Balashev found it very strange here on Russian soil to -encounter this hostile, and still more this disrespectful, application -of brute force to himself. - -The sun was only just appearing from behind the clouds, the air -was fresh and dewy. A herd of cattle was being driven along the road -from the village, and over the fields the larks rose trilling, one -after another, like bubbles rising in water. - -Balashev looked around him, awaiting the arrival of an officer -from the village. The Russian Cossacks and bugler and the French -hussars looked silently at one another from time to time. - -A French colonel of hussars, who had evidently just left his bed, -came riding from the village on a handsome sleek gray horse, -accompanied by two hussars. The officer, the soldiers, and their -horses all looked smart and well kept. - -It was that first period of a campaign when troops are still in full -trim, almost like that of peacetime maneuvers, but with a shade of -martial swagger in their clothes, and a touch of the gaiety and spirit -of enterprise which always accompany the opening of a campaign. - -The French colonel with difficulty repressed a yawn, but was -polite and evidently understood Balashev's importance. He led him past -his soldiers and behind the outposts and told him that his wish to -be presented to the Emperor would most likely be satisfied -immediately, as the Emperor's quarters were, he believed, not far off. - -They rode through the village of Rykonty, past tethered French -hussar horses, past sentinels and men who saluted their colonel and -stared with curiosity at a Russian uniform, and came out at the -other end of the village. The colonel said that the commander of the -division was a mile and a quarter away and would receive Balashev -and conduct him to his destination. - -The sun had by now risen and shone gaily on the bright verdure. - -They had hardly ridden up a hill, past a tavern, before they saw a -group of horsemen coming toward them. In front of the group, on a -black horse with trappings that glittered in the sun, rode a tall -man with plumes in his hat and black hair curling down to his -shoulders. He wore a red mantle, and stretched his long legs forward -in French fashion. This man rode toward Balashev at a gallop, his -plumes flowing and his gems and gold lace glittering in the bright -June sunshine. - -Balashev was only two horses' length from the equestrian with the -bracelets, plunies, necklaces, and gold embroidery, who was -galloping toward him with a theatrically solemn countenance, when -Julner, the French colonel, whispered respectfully: "The King of -Naples!" It was, in fact, Murat, now called "King of Naples." Though -it was quite incomprehensible why he should be King of Naples, he -was called so, and was himself convinced that he was so, and therefore -assumed a more solemn and important air than formerly. He was so -sure that he really was the King of Naples that when, on the eve of -his departure from that city, while walking through the streets with -his wife, some Italians called out to him: "Viva il re!"~{ "Long live the king." }~ he turned to -his wife with a pensive smile and said: "Poor fellows, they don't know -that I am leaving them tomorrow!" - -But though he firmly believed himself to be King of Naples and -pitied the grief felt by the subjects he was abandoning, latterly, -after he had been ordered to return to military service- and -especially since his last interview with Napoleon in Danzig, when -his august brother-in-law had told him: "I made you King that you -should reign in my way, but not in yours!"- he had cheerfully taken up -his familiar business, and- like a well-fed but not overfat horse that -feels himself in harness and grows skittish between the shafts- he -dressed up in clothes as variegated and expensive as possible, and -gaily and contentedly galloped along the roads of Poland, without -himself knowing why or whither. - -On seeing the Russian general he threw back his head, with its -long hair curling to his shoulders, in a majestically royal manner, -and looked inquiringly at the French colonel. The colonel respectfully -informed His Majesty of Balashev's mission, whose name he could not -pronounce. - -"De Bal-macheve!" said the King (overcoming by his assurance the -difficulty that had presented itself to the colonel). "Charmed to make -your acquaintance, General!" he added, with a gesture of kingly -condescension. - -As soon as the King began to speak loud and fast his royal dignity -instantly forsook him, and without noticing it he passed into his -natural tone of good-natured familiarity. He laid his hand on the -withers of Balashev's horse and said: - -"Well, General, it all looks like war," as if regretting a -circumstance of which he was unable to judge. - -"Your Majesty," replied Balashev, "my master, the Emperor, does -not desire war and as Your Majesty sees..." said Balashev, using the -words Your Majesty at every opportunity, with the affectation -unavoidable in frequently addressing one to whom the title was still a -novelty. - -Murat's face beamed with stupid satisfaction as he listened to -"Monsieur de Bal-macheve." But royaute oblige!~{ "Royalty has its obligations." }~ and he felt it -incumbent on him, as a king and an ally, to confer on state affairs -with Alexander's envoy. He dismounted, took Balashev's arm, and moving -a few steps away from his suite, which waited respectfully, began to -pace up and down with him, trying to speak significantly. He -referred to the fact that the Emperor Napoleon had resented the demand -that he should withdraw his troops from Prussia, especially when -that demand became generally known and the dignity of France was -thereby offended. - -Balashev replied that there was nothing offensive in the demand, -because..." but Murat interrupted him. - -"Then you don't consider the Emperor Alexander the aggressor?" he -asked unexpectedly, with a kindly and foolish smile. - -Balashev told him why he considered Napoleon to be the originator of -the war. - -"Oh, my dear general!" Murat again interrupted him, "with all my -heart I wish the Emperors may arrange the affair between them, and -that the war begun by no wish of mine may finish as quickly as -possible!" said he, in the tone of a servant who wants to remain -good friends with another despite a quarrel between their masters. - -And he went on to inquiries about the Grand Duke and the state of -his health, and to reminiscences of the gay and amusing times he had -spent with him in Naples. Then suddenly, as if remembering his royal -dignity, Murat solemnly drew himself up, assumed the pose in which -he had stood at his coronation. and, waving his right arm, said: - -"I won't detain you longer, General. I wish success to your -mission," and with his embroidered red mantle, his flowing feathers, -and his glittering ornaments, he rejoined his suite who were -respectfully awaiting him. - -Balashev rode on, supposing from Murat's words that he would very -soon be brought before Napoleon himself. But instead of that, at the -next village the sentinels of Davout's infantry corps detained him -as the pickets of the vanguard had done, and an adjutant of the -corps commander, who was fetched, conducted him into the village to -Marshal Davout. - -CHAPTER V - -Davout was to Napoleon what Arakcheev was to Alexander- though not a -coward like Arakcheev, he was as precise, as cruel, and as unable to -express his devotion to his monarch except by cruelty. - -In the organism of states such men are necessary, as wolves are -necessary in the organism of nature, and they always exist, always -appear and hold their own, however incongruous their presence and -their proximity to the head of the government may be. This -inevitability alone can explain how the cruel Arakcheev, who tore -out a grenadier's mustache with his own hands, whose weak nerves -rendered him unable to face danger, and who was neither an educated -man nor a courtier, was able to maintain his powerful position with -Alexander, whose own character was chivalrous, noble, and gentle. - -Balashev found Davout seated on a barrel in the shed of a -peasant's hut, writing- he was auditing accounts. Better quarters -could have been found him, but Marshal Davout was one of those men who -purposely put themselves in most depressing conditions to have a -justification for being gloomy. For the same reason they are always -hard at work and in a hurry. "How can I think of the bright side of -life when, as you see, I am sitting on a barrel and working in a dirty -shed?" the expression of his face seemed to say. The chief pleasure -and necessity of such men, when they encounter anyone who shows -animation, is to flaunt their own dreary, persistent activity. -Davout allowed himself that pleasure when Balashev was brought in. -He became still more absorbed in his task when the Russian general -entered, and after glancing over his spectacles at Balashev's face, -which was animated by the beauty of the morning and by his talk with -Murat, he did not rise or even stir, but scowled still more and -sneered malevolently. - -When he noticed in Balashev's face the disagreeable impression -this reception produced, Davout raised his head and coldly asked -what he wanted. - -Thinking he could have been received in such a manner only because -Davout did not know that he was adjutant general to the Emperor -Alexander and even his envoy to Napoleon, Balashev hastened to -inform him of his rank and mission. Contrary to his expectation, -Davout, after hearing him, became still surlier and ruder. - -"Where is your dispatch?" he inquired. "Give it to me. I will send -it to the Emperor." - -Balashev replied that he had been ordered to hand it personally to -the Emperor. - -"Your Emperor's orders are obeyed in your army, but here," said -Davout, "you must do as you're told." - -And, as if to make the Russian general still more conscious of his -dependence on brute force, Davout sent an adjutant to call the officer -on duty. - -Balashev took out the packet containing the Emperor's letter and -laid it on the table (made of a door with its hinges still hanging -on it, laid across two barrels). Davout took the packet and read the -inscription. - -"You are perfectly at liberty to treat me with respect or not," -protested Balashev, "but permit me to observe that I have the honor to -be adjutant general to His Majesty...." - -Davout glanced at him silently and plainly derived pleasure from the -signs of agitation and confusion which appeared on Balashev's face. - -"You will be treated as is fitting," said he and, putting the packet -in his pocket, left the shed. - -A minute later the marshal's adjutant, de Castres, came in and -conducted Balashev to the quarters assigned him. - -That day he dined with the marshal, at the same board on the -barrels. - -Next day Davout rode out early and, after asking Balashev to come to -him, peremptorily requested him to remain there, to move on with the -baggage train should orders come for it to move, and to talk to no one -except Monsieur de Castres. - -After four days of solitude, ennui, and consciousness of his -impotence and insignificance- particularly acute by contrast with -the sphere of power in which he had so lately moved- and after several -marches with the marshal's baggage and the French army, which occupied -the whole district, Balashev was brought to Vilna- now occupied by the -French- through the very gate by which he had left it four days -previously. - -Next day the imperial gentleman-in-waiting, the Comte de Turenne, -came to Balashev and informed him of the Emperor Napoleon's wish to -honor him with an audience. - -Four days before, sentinels of the Preobrazhensk regiment had -stood in front of the house to which Balashev was conducted, and now -two French grenadiers stood there in blue uniforms unfastened in front -and with shaggy caps on their heads, and an escort of hussars and -Uhlans and a brilliant suite of aides-de-camp, pages, and generals, -who were waiting for Napoleon to come out, were standing at the porch, -round his saddle horse and his Mameluke, Rustan. Napoleon received -Balashev in the very house in Vilna from which Alexander had -dispatched him on his mission. - -CHAPTER VI - -Though Balashev was used to imperial pomp, he was amazed at the -luxury and magnificence of Napoleon's court. - -The Comte de Turenne showed him into a big reception room where many -generals, gentlemen-in-waiting, and Polish magnates- several of whom -Balashev had seen at the court of the Emperor of Russia- were waiting. -Duroc said that Napoleon would receive the Russian general before -going for his ride. - -After some minutes, the gentleman-in-waiting who was on duty came -into the great reception room and, bowing politely, asked Balashev -to follow him. - -Balashev went into a small reception room, one door of which led -into a study, the very one from which the Russian Emperor had -dispatched him on his mission. He stood a minute or two, waiting. He -heard hurried footsteps beyond the door, both halves of it were opened -rapidly; all was silent and then from the study the sound was heard of -other steps, firm and resolute- they were those of Napoleon. He had -just finished dressing for his ride, and wore a blue uniform, -opening in front over a white waistcoat so long that it covered his -rotund stomach, white leather breeches tightly fitting the fat -thighs of his short legs, and Hessian boots. His short hair had -evidently just been brushed, but one lock hung down in the middle of -his broad forehead. His plump white neck stood out sharply above the -black collar of his uniform, and he smelled of Eau de Cologne. His -full face, rather young-looking, with its prominent chin, wore a -gracious and majestic expression of imperial welcome. - -He entered briskly, with a jerk at every step and his head -slightly thrown back. His whole short corpulent figure with broad -thick shoulders, and chest and stomach involuntarily protruding, had -that imposing and stately appearance one sees in men of forty who live -in comfort. It was evident, too, that he was in the best of spirits -that day. - -He nodded in answer to Balashav's low and respectful bow, and coming -up to him at once began speaking like a man who values every moment of -his time and does not condescend to prepare what he has to say but -is sure he will always say the right thing and say it well. - -"Good day, General!" said he. "I have received the letter you -brought from the Emperor Alexander and am very glad to see you." He -glanced with his large eyes into Balashav's face and immediately -looked past him. - -It was plain that Balashev's personality did not interest him at -all. Evidently only what took place within his own mind interested -him. Nothing outside himself had any significance for him, because -everything in the world, it seemed to him, depended entirely on his -will. - -"I do not, and did not, desire war," he continued, "but it has -been forced on me. Even now" (he emphasized the word) "I am ready to -receive any explanations you can give me." - -And he began clearly and concisely to explain his reasons for -dissatisfaction with the Russian government. Judging by the calmly -moderate and amicable tone in which the French Emperor spoke, Balashev -was firmly persuaded that he wished for peace and intended to enter -into negotiations. - -When Napoleon, having finished speaking, looked inquiringly at the -Russian envoy, Balashev began a speech he had prepared long before: -"Sire! The Emperor, my master..." but the sight of the Emperor's -eyes bent on him confused him. "You are flurried- compose yourself!" -Napoleon seemed to say, as with a scarcely perceptible smile he looked -at Balashev's uniform and sword. - -Balashev recovered himself and began to speak. He said that the -Emperor Alexander did not consider Kurakin's demand for his -passports a sufficient cause for war; that Kurakin had acted on his -own initiative and without his sovereign's assent, that the Emperor -Alexander did not desire war, and had no relations with England. - -"Not yet!" interposed Napoleon, and, as if fearing to give vent to -his feelings, he frowned and nodded slightly as a sign that Balashev -might proceed. - -After saying all he had been instructed to say, Balashev added -that the Emperor Alexander wished for peace, but would not enter -into negotiations except on condition that... Here Balashev hesitated: -he remembered the words the Emperor Alexander had not written in his -letter, but had specially inserted in the rescript to Saltykov and had -told Balashev to repeat to Napoleon. Balashev remembered these -words, "So long as a single armed foe remains on Russian soil," but -some complex feeling restrained him. He could not utter them, though -he wished to do so. He grew confused and said: "On condition that -the French army retires beyond the Niemen." - -Napoleon noticed Balashev's embarrassment when uttering these last -words; his face twitched and the calf of his left leg began to -quiver rhythmically. Without moving from where he stood he began -speaking in a louder tone and more hurriedly than before. During the -speech that followed, Balashev, who more than once lowered his eyes, -involuntarily noticed the quivering of Napoleon's left leg which -increased the more Napoleon raised his voice. - -"I desire peace, no less than the Emperor Alexander," he began. -"Have I not for eighteen months been doing everything to obtain it? -I have waited eighteen months for explanations. But in order to -begin negotiations, what is demanded of me?" he said, frowning and -making an energetic gesture of inquiry with his small white plump -hand. - -"The withdrawal of your army beyond the Niemen, sire," replied -Balashev. - -"The Niemen?" repeated Napoleon. "So now you want me to retire -beyond the Niemen- only the Niemen?" repeated Napoleon, looking -straight at Balashev. - -The latter bowed his head respectfully. - -Instead of the demand of four months earlier to withdraw from -Pomerania, only a withdrawal beyond the Niemen was now demanded. -Napoleon turned quickly and began to pace the room. - -"You say the demand now is that I am to withdraw beyond the Niemen -before commencing negotiations, but in just the same way two months -ago the demand was that I should withdraw beyond the Vistula and the -Oder, and yet you are willing to negotiate." - -He went in silence from one corner of the room to the other and -again stopped in front of Balashev. Balashev noticed that his left leg -was quivering faster than before and his face seemed petrified in -its stern expression. This quivering of his left leg was a thing -Napoleon was conscious of. "The vibration of my left calf is a great -sign with me," he remarked at a later date. - -"Such demands as to retreat beyond the Vistula and Oder may be -made to a Prince of Baden, but not to me!" Napoleon almost screamed, -quite to his own surprise. "If you gave me Petersburg and Moscow I -could not accept such conditions. You say I have begun this war! But -who first joined his army? The Emperor Alexander, not I! And you offer -me negotiations when I have expended millions, when you are in -alliance with England, and when your position is a bad one. You -offer me negotiations! But what is the aim of your alliance with -England? What has she given you?" he continued hurriedly, evidently no -longer trying to show the advantages of peace and discuss its -possibility, but only to prove his own rectitude and power and -Alexander's errors and duplicity. - -The commencement of his speech had obviously been made with the -intention of demonstrating the advantages of his position and -showing that he was nevertheless willing to negotiate. But he had -begun talking, and the more he talked the less could he control his -words. - -The whole purport of his remarks now was evidently to exalt -himself and insult Alexander- just what he had least desired at the -commencement of the interview. - -"I hear you have made peace with Turkey?" - -Balashev bowed his head affirmatively. - -"Peace has been concluded..." he began. - -But Napoleon did not let him speak. He evidently wanted to do all -the talking himself, and continued to talk with the sort of -eloquence and unrestrained irritability to which spoiled people are so -prone. - -"Yes, I know you have made peace with the Turks without obtaining -Moldavia and Wallachia; I would have given your sovereign those -provinces as I gave him Finland. Yes," he went on, "I promised and -would have given the Emperor Alexander Moldavia and Wallachia, and now -he won't have those splendid provinces. Yet he might have united -them to his empire and in a single reign would have extended Russia -from the Gulf of Bothnia to the mouths of the Danube. Catherine the -Great could not have done more," said Napoleon, growing more and -more excited as he paced up and down the room, repeating to Balashev -almost the very words he had used to Alexander himself at Tilsit. "All -that, he would have owed to my friendship. Oh, what a splendid reign!" -he repeated several times, then paused, drew from his pocket a gold -snuffbox, lifted it to his nose, and greedily sniffed at it. - -"What a splendid reign the Emperor Alexander's might have been!" - -He looked compassionately at Balashev, and as soon as the latter -tried to make some rejoinder hastily interrupted him. - -"What could he wish or look for that he would not have obtained -through my friendship?" demanded Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders -in perplexity. "But no, he has preferred to surround himself with my -enemies, and with whom? With Steins, Armfeldts, Bennigsens, and -Wintzingerodes! Stein, a traitor expelled from his own country; -Armfeldt, a rake and an intriguer; Wintzingerode, a fugitive French -subject; Bennigsen, rather more of a soldier than the others, but -all the same an incompetent who was unable to do anything in 1807 -and who should awaken terrible memories in the Emperor Alexander's -mind.... Granted that were they competent they might be made use -of," continued Napoleon- hardly able to keep pace in words with the -rush of thoughts that incessantly sprang up, proving how right and -strong he was (in his perception the two were one and the same)- -"but they are not even that! They are neither fit for war nor peace! -Barclay is said to be the most capable of them all, but I cannot say -so, judging by his first movements. And what are they doing, all these -courtiers? Pfuel proposes, Armfeldt disputes, Bennigsen considers, and -Barclay, called on to act, does not know what to decide on, and time -passes bringing no result. Bagration alone is a military man. He's -stupid, but he has experience, a quick eye, and resolution.... And -what role is your young monarch playing in that monstrous crowd? -They compromise him and throw on him the responsibility for all that -happens. A sovereign should not be with the army unless he is a -general!" said Napoleon, evidently uttering these words as a direct -challenge to the Emperor. He knew how Alexander desired to be a -military commander. - -"The campaign began only a week ago, and you haven't even been -able to defend Vilna. You are cut in two and have been driven out of -the Polish provinces. Your army is grumbling." - -"On the contrary, Your Majesty," said Balashev, hardly able to -remember what had been said to him and following these verbal -fireworks with difficulty, "the troops are burning with eagerness..." - -"I know everything!" Napoleon interrupted him. "I know everything. I -know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own. You -have not two hundred thousand men, and I have three times that number. -I give you my word of honor," said Napoleon, forgetting that his -word of honor could carry no weight- "I give you my word of honor that -I have five hundred and thirty thousand men this side of the -Vistula. The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing -and have shown it by making peace with you. As for the Swedes- it is -their fate to be governed by mad kings. Their king was insane and they -changed him for another- Bernadotte, who promptly went mad- for no -Swede would ally himself with Russia unless he were mad." - -Napoleon grinned maliciously and again raised his snuffbox to his -nose. - -Balashev knew how to reply to each of Napoleon's remarks, and -would have done so; he continually made the gesture of a man wishing -to say something, but Napoleon always interrupted him. To the -alleged insanity of the Swedes, Balashev wished to reply that when -Russia is on her side Sweden is practically an island: but Napoleon -gave an angry exclamation to drown his voice. Napoleon was in that -state of irritability in which a man has to talk, talk, and talk, -merely to convince himself that he is in the right. Balashev began -to feel uncomfortable: as envoy he feared to demean his dignity and -felt the necessity of replying; but, as a man, he shrank before the -transport of groundless wrath that had evidently seized Napoleon. He -knew that none of the words now uttered by Napoleon had any -significance, and that Napoleon himself would be ashamed of them -when he came to his senses. Balashev stood with downcast eyes, looking -at the movements of Napoleon's stout legs and trying to avoid -meeting his eyes. - -"But what do I care about your allies?" said Napoleon. "I have -allies- the Poles. There are eighty thousand of them and they fight -like lions. And there will be two hundred thousand of them." - -And probably still more perturbed by the fact that he had uttered -this obvious falsehood, and that Balashev still stood silently -before him in the same attitude of submission to fate, Napoleon -abruptly turned round, drew close to Balashev's face, and, -gesticulating rapidly and energetically with his white hands, almost -shouted: - -"Know that if you stir up Prussia against me, I'll wipe it off the -map of Europe!" he declared, his face pale and distorted by anger, and -he struck one of his small hands energetically with the other. "Yes, I -will throw you back beyond the Dvina and beyond the Dnieper, and -will re-erect against you that barrier which it was criminal and blind -of Europe to allow to be destroyed. Yes, that is what will happen to -you. That is what you have gained by alienating me!" And he walked -silently several times up and down the room, his fat shoulders -twitching. - -He put his snuffbox into his waistcoat pocket, took it out again, -lifted it several times to his nose, and stopped in front of Balashev. -He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev's eyes, and said -in a quiet voice: - -"And yet what a splendid reign your master might have had!" - -Balashev, feeling it incumbent on him to reply, said that from the -Russian side things did not appear in so gloomy a light. Napoleon -was silent, still looking derisively at him and evidently not -listening to him. Balashev said that in Russia the best results were -expected from the war. Napoleon nodded condescendingly, as if to -say, "I know it's your duty to say that, but you don't believe it -yourself. I have convinced you." - -When Balashev had ended, Napoleon again took out his snuffbox, -sniffed at it, and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal. -The door opened, a gentleman-in-waiting, bending respectfully, -handed the Emperor his hat and gloves; another brought hima pocket -handkerchief. Napoleon, without giving them a glance, turned to -Balashev: - -"Assure the Emperor Alexander from me," said he, taking his hat, -"that I am as devoted to him as before: I know him thoroughly and very -highly esteem his lofty qualities. I will detain you no longer, -General; you shall receive my letter to the Emperor." - -And Napoleon went quickly to the door. Everyone in the reception -room rushed forward and descended the staircase. - -CHAPTER VII - -After all that Napoleon had said to him- those bursts of anger and -the last dryly spoken words: "I will detain you no longer, General; -you shall receive my letter," Balashev felt convinced that Napoleon -would not wish to see him, and would even avoid another meeting with -him- an insulted envoy- especially as he had witnessed his unseemly -anger. But, to his surprise, Balashev received, through Duroc, an -invitation to dine with the Emperor that day. - -Bessieres, Caulaincourt, and Berthier were present at that dinner. - -Napoleon met Balashev cheerfully and amiably. He not only showed -no sign of constraint or self-reproach on account of his outburst that -morning, but, on the contrary, tried to reassure Balashev. It was -evident that he had long been convinced that it was impossible for him -to make a mistake, and that in his perception whatever he did was -right, not because it harmonized with any idea of right and wrong, but -because he did it. - -The Emperor was in very good spirits after his ride through Vilna, -where crowds of people had rapturously greeted and followed him. -From all the windows of the streets through which he rode, rugs, -flags, and his monogram were displayed, and the Polish ladies, -welcoming him, waved their handkerchiefs to him. - -At dinner, having placed Balashev beside him, Napoleon not only -treated him amiably but behaved as if Balashev were one of his own -courtiers, one of those who sympathized with his plans and ought to -rejoice at his success. In the course of conversation he mentioned -Moscow and questioned Balashev about the Russian capital, not merely -as an interested traveler asks about a new city he intends to visit, -but as if convinced that Balashev, as a Russian, must be flattered -by his curiosity. - -"How many inhabitants are there in Moscow? How many houses? Is it -true that Moscow is called 'Holy Moscow'? How many churches are -there in Moscow?" he asked. - -And receiving the reply that there were more than two hundred -churches, he remarked: - -"Why such a quantity of churches?" - -"The Russians are very devout," replied Balashev. - -"But a large number of monasteries and churches is always a sign -of the backwardness of a people," said Napoleon, turning to -Caulaincourt for appreciation of this remark. - -Balashev respectfully ventured to disagree with the French Emperor. - -"Every country has its own character," said he. - -"But nowhere in Europe is there anything like that," said Napoleon. - -"I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned Balashev, "besides Russia -there is Spain, where there are also many churches and monasteries." - -This reply of Balashev's, which hinted at the recent defeats of -the French in Spain, was much appreciated when he related it at -Alexander's court, but it was not much appreciated at Napoleon's -dinner, where it passed unnoticed. - -The uninterested and perplexed faces of the marshals showed that -they were puzzled as to what Balashev's tone suggested. "If there is a -point we don't see it, or it is not at all witty," their expressions -seemed to say. So little was his rejoinder appreciated that Napoleon -did not notice it at all and naively asked Balashev through what towns -the direct road from there to Moscow passed. Balashev, who was on -the alert all through the dinner, replied that just as "all roads lead -to Rome," so all roads lead to Moscow: there were many roads, and -"among them the road through Poltava, which Charles XII chose." -Balashev involuntarily flushed with pleasure at the aptitude of this -reply, but hardly had he uttered the word Poltava before -Caulaincourt began speaking of the badness of the road from Petersburg -to Moscow and of his Petersburg reminiscences. - -After dinner they went to drink coffee in Napoleon's study, which -four days previously had been that of the Emperor Alexander. -Napoleon sat down, toying with his Sevres coffee cup, and motioned -Balashev to a chair beside him. - -Napoleon was in that well-known after-dinner mood which, more than -any reasoned cause, makes a man contented with himself and disposed to -consider everyone his friend. It seemed to him that he was -surrounded by men who adored him: and he felt convinced that, after -his dinner, Balashev too was his friend and worshiper. Napoleon turned -to him with a pleasant, though slightly ironic, smile. - -"They tell me this is the room the Emperor Alexander occupied? -Strange, isn't it, General?" he said, evidently not doubting that this -remark would be agreeable to his hearer since it went to prove his, -Napoleon's, superiority to Alexander. - -Balashev made no reply and bowed and bowed his head in silence. - -"Yes. Four days ago in this room, Wintzingerode and Stein were -deliberating," continued Napoleon with the same derisive and -self-confident smile. "What I can't understand," he went on, "is -that the Emperor Alexander has surrounded himself with my personal -enemies. That I do not... understand. Has he not thought that I may -the same?" and he turned inquiringly to Balashev, and evidently this -thought turned him back on to the track of his morning's anger, -which was still fresh in him. - -"And let him know that I will do so!" said Napoleon, rising and -pushing his cup away with his hand. "I'll drive all his Wurttemberg, -Baden, and Weimar relations out of Germany.... Yes. I'll drive them -out. Let him prepare an asylum for them in Russia!" - -Balashev bowed his head with an air indicating that he would like to -make his bow and leave, and only listened because he could not help -hearing what was said to him. Napoleon did not notice this expression; -he treated Balashev not as an envoy from his enemy, but as a man now -fully devoted to him and who must rejoice at his former master's -humiliation. - -"And why has the Emperor Alexander taken command of the armies? What -is the good of that? War is my profession, but his business is to -reign and not to command armies! Why has he taken on himself such a -responsibility?" - -Again Napoleon brought out his snuffbox, paced several times up -and down the room in silence, and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, -went up to Balashev and with a slight smile, as confidently, -quickly, and simply as if he were doing something not merely -important but pleasing to Balashev, he raised his hand to the -forty-year-old Russian general's face and, taking him by the ear, -pulled it gently, smiling with his lips only. - -To have one's ear pulled by the Emperor was considered the -greatest honor and mark of favor at the French court. - -"Well, adorer and courtier of the Emperor Alexander, why don't you -say anything?" said he, as if it was ridiculous, in his presence, to -be the adorer and courtier of anyone but himself, Napoleon. "Are the -horses ready for the general?" he added, with a slight inclination -of his head in reply to Balashev's bow. "Let him have mine, he has a -long way to go!" - -The letter taken by Balashev was the last Napoleon sent to -Alexander. Every detail of the interview was communicated to the -Russian monarch, and the war began... - -CHAPTER VIII - -After his interview with Pierre in Moscow, Prince Andrew went to -Petersburg, on business as he told his family, but really to meet -Anatole Kuragin whom he felt it necessary to encounter. On reaching -Petersburg he inquired for Kuragin but the latter had already left the -city. Pierre had warned his brother-in-law that Prince Andrew was on -his track. Anatole Kuragin promptly obtained an appointment from the -Minister of War and went to join the army in Moldavia. While in -Petersburg Prince Andrew met Kutuzov, his former commander who was -always well disposed toward him, and Kutuzov suggested that he -should accompany him to the army in Moldavia, to which the old general -had been appointed commander in chief. So Prince Andrew, having -received an appointment on the headquarters staff, left for Turkey. - -Prince Andrew did not think it proper to write and challenge -Kuragin. He thought that if he challenged him without some fresh cause -it might compromise the young Countess Rostova and so he wanted to -meet Kuragin personally in order to find a fresh pretext for a duel. -But he again failed to meet Kuragin in Turkey, for soon after Prince -Andrew arrived, the latter returned to Russia. In a new country, -amid new conditions, Prince Andrew found life easier to bear. After -his betrothed had broken faith with him- which he felt the more -acutely the more he tried to conceal its effects- the surroundings -in which he had been happy became trying to him, and the freedom and -independence he had once prized so highly were still more so. Not only -could he no longer think the thoughts that had first come to him as he -lay gazing at the sky on the field of Austerlitz and had later -enlarged upon with Pierre, and which had filled his solitude at -Bogucharovo and then in Switzerland and Rome, but he even dreaded to -recall them and them and the bright and boundless horizons they had -revealed. He was now concerned only with the nearest practical matters -unrelated to his past interests, and he seized on these the more -eagerly the more those past interests were closed to him. It was as if -that lofty, infinite canopy of heaven that had once towered above -him had suddenly turned into a low, solid vault that weighed him down, -in which all was clear, but nothing eternal or mysterious. - -Of the activities that presented themselves to him, army service was -the simplest and most familiar. As a general on duty on Kutuzov's -staff, he applied himself to business with zeal and perseverance and -surprised Kutuzov by his willingness and accuracy in work. Not -having found Kuragin in Turkey, Prince Andrew did not think it -necessary to rush back to Russia after him, but all the same he knew -that however long it might be before he met Kuragin, despite his -contempt for him and despite all the proofs he deduced to convince -himself that it was not worth stooping to a conflict with him- he knew -that when he did meet him he would not be able to resist calling him -out, any more than a ravenous man can help snatching at food. And -the consciousness that the insult was not yet avenged, that his rancor -was still unspent, weighed on his heart and poisoned the artificial -tranquillity which he managed to obtain in Turkey by means of -restless, plodding, and rather vainglorious and ambitious activity. - -In the year 1812, when news of the war with Napoleon reached -Bucharest- where Kutuzov had been living for two months, passing his -days and nights with a Wallachian woman- Prince Andrew asked Kutuzov -to transfer him to the Western Army. Kutuzov, who was already weary of -Bolkonski's activity which seemed to reproach his own idleness, very -readily let him go and gave him a mission to Barclay de Tolly. - -Before joining the Western Army which was then, in May, encamped -at Drissa, Prince Andrew visited Bald Hills which was directly on -his way, being only two miles off the Smolensk highroad. During the -last three years there had been so many changes in his life, he had -thought, felt, and seen so much (having traveled both in the east -and the west), that on reaching Bald Hills it struck him as strange -and unexpected to find the way of life there unchanged and still the -same in every detail. He entered through the gates with their stone -pillars and drove up the avenue leading to the house as if he were -entering an enchanted, sleeping castle. The same old stateliness, -the same cleanliness, the same stillness reigned there, and inside -there was the same furniture, the same walls, sounds, and smell, and -the same timid faces, only somewhat older. Princess Mary was still the -same timid, plain maiden getting on in years, uselessly and -joylessly passing the best years of her life in fear and constant -suffering. Mademoiselle Bourienne was the same coquettish, -self-satisfied girl, enjoying every moment of her existence and full -of joyous hopes for the future. She had merely become more -self-confident, Prince Andrew thought. Dessalles, the tutor he had -brought from Switzerland, was wearing a coat of Russian cut and -talking broken Russian to the servants, but was still the same -narrowly intelligent, conscientious, and pedantic preceptor. The old -prince had changed in appearance only by the loss of a tooth, which -left a noticeable gap on one side of his mouth; in character he was -the same as ever, only showing still more irritability and -skepticism as to what was happening in the world. Little Nicholas -alone had changed. He had grown, become rosier, had curly dark hair, -and, when merry and laughing, quite unconsciously lifted the upper lip -of his pretty little mouth just as the little princess used to do. -He alone did not obey the law of immutability in the enchanted, -sleeping castle. But though externally all remained as of old, the -inner relations of all these people had changed since Prince Andrew -had seen them last. The household was divided into two alien and -hostile camps, who changed their habits for his sake and only met -because he was there. To the one camp belonged the old prince, -Madmoiselle Bourienne, and the architect; to the other Princess -Mary, Dessalles, little Nicholas, and all the old nurses and maids. - -During his stay at Bald Hills all the family dined together, but -they were ill at ease and Prince Andrew felt that he was a visitor for -whose sake an exception was being made and that his presence made them -all feel awkward. Involuntarily feeling this at dinner on the first -day, he was taciturn, and the old prince noticing this also became -morosely dumb and retired to his apartments directly after dinner. -In the evening, when Prince Andrew went to him and, trying to rouse -him, began to tell him of the young Count Kamensky's campaign, the old -prince began unexpectedly to talk about Princess Mary, blaming her for -her superstitions and her dislike of Mademoiselle Bourienne, who, he -said, was the only person really attached to him. - -The old prince said that if he was ill it was only because of -Princess Mary: that she purposely worried and irritated him, and -that by indulgence and silly talk she was spoiling little Prince -Nicholas. The old prince knew very well that he tormented his daughter -and that her life was very hard, but he also knew that he could not -help tormenting her and that she deserved it. "Why does Prince Andrew, -who sees this, say nothing to me about his sister? Does he think me -a scoundrel, or an old fool who, without any reason, keeps his own -daughter at a distance and attaches this Frenchwoman to himself? He -doesn't understand, so I must explain it, and he must hear me out," -thought the old prince. And he began explaining why he could not put -up with his daughter's unreasonable character. - -"If you ask me," said Prince Andrew, without looking up (he was -censuring his father for the first time in his life), "I did not -wish to speak about it, but as you ask me I will give you my frank -opinion. If there is any misunderstanding and discord between you -and Mary, I can't blame her for it at all. I know how she loves and -respects you. Since you ask me," continued Prince Andrew, becoming -irritable- as he was always liable to do of late- "I can only say that -if there are any misunderstandings they are caused by that worthless -woman, who is not fit to be my sister's companion." - -The old man at first stared fixedly at his son, and an unnatural -smile disclosed the fresh gap between his teeth to which Prince Andrew -could not get accustomed. - -"What companion, my dear boy? Eh? You've already been talking it -over! Eh?" - -"Father, I did not want to judge," said Prince Andrew, in a hard and -bitter tone, "but you challenged me, and I have said, and always shall -say, that Mary is not to blame, but those to blame- the one to -blame- is that Frenchwoman." - -"Ah, he has passed judgment... passed judgement!" said the old man -in a low voice and, as it seemed to Prince Andrew, with some -embarrassment, but then he suddenly jumped up and cried: "Be off, be -off! Let not a trace of you remain here!..." - -Prince Andrew wished to leave at once, but Princess Mary persuaded -him to stay another day. That day he did not see his father, who did -not leave his room and admitted no one but Mademoiselle Bourienne -and Tikhon, but asked several times whether his son had gone. Next -day, before leaving, Prince Andrew went to his son's rooms. The boy, -curly-headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, -and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell -into a reverie without finishing the story. He thought not of this -pretty child, his son whom he held on his knee, but of himself. He -sought in himself either remorse for having angered his father or -regret at leaving home for the first time in his life on bad terms -with him, and was horrified to find neither. What meant still more -to him was that he sought and did not find in himself the former -tenderness for his son which he had hoped to reawaken by caressing the -boy and taking him on his knee. - -"Well, go on!" said his son. - -Prince Andrew, without replying, put him down from his knee and went -out of the room. - -As soon as Prince Andrew had given up his daily occupations, and -especially on returning to the old conditions of life amid which he -had been happy, weariness of life overcame him with its former -intensity, and he hastened to escape from these memories and to find -some work as soon as possible. - -"So you've decided to go, Andrew?" asked his sister. - -"Thank God that I can," replied Prince Andrew. "I am very sorry -you can't." - -"Why do you say that?" replied Princess Mary. "Why do you say -that, when you are going to this terrible war, and he is so old? -Mademoiselle Bourienne says he has been asking about you...." - -As soon as she began to speak of that, her lips trembled and her -tears began to fall. Prince Andrew turned away and began pacing the -room. - -"Ah, my God! my God! When one thinks who and what- what trash- can -cause people misery!" he said with a malignity that alarmed Princess -Mary. - -She understood that when speaking of "trash" he referred not only to -Mademoiselle Bourienne, the cause of her misery, but also to the man -who had ruined his own happiness. - -"Andrew! One thing I beg, I entreat of you!" she said, touching -his elbow and looking at him with eyes that shone through her tears. -"I understand you" (she looked down). "Don't imagine that sorrow is -the work of men. Men are His tools." She looked a little above -Prince Andrew's head with the confident, accustomed look with which -one looks at the place where a familiar portrait hangs. "Sorrow is -sent by Him, not by men. Men are His instruments, they are not to -blame. If you think someone has wronged you, forget it and forgive! We -have no right to punish. And then you will know the happiness of -forgiving." - -"If I were a woman I would do so, Mary. That is a woman's virtue. -But a man should not and cannot forgive and forget," he replied, and -though till that moment he had not been thinking of Kuragin, all his -unexpended anger suddenly swelled up in his heart. - -"If Mary is already persuading me forgive, it means that I ought -long ago to have punished him," he thought. And giving her no -further reply, he began thinking of the glad vindictive moment when he -would meet Kuragin who he knew was now in the army. - -Princess Mary begged him to stay one day more, saying that she -knew how unhappy her father would be if Andrew left without being -reconciled to him, but Prince Andrew replied that he would probably -soon be back again from the army and would certainly write to his -father, but that the longer he stayed now the more embittered their -differences would become. - -"Good-by, Andrew! Remember that misfortunes come from God, and men -are never to blame," were the last words he heard from his sister when -he took leave of her. - -"Then it must be so!" thought Prince Andrew as he drove out of the -avenue from the house at Bald Hills. "She, poor innocent creature, -is left to be victimized by an old man who has outlived his wits. -The old man feels he is guilty, but cannot change himself. My boy is -growing up and rejoices in life, in which like everybody else he -will deceive or be deceived. And I am off to the army. Why? I myself -don't know. I want to meet that man whom I despise, so as to give -him a chance to kill and laugh at me! - -These conditions of life had been the same before, but then they -were all connected, while now they had all tumbled to pieces. Only -senseless things, lacking coherence, presented themselves one after -another to Prince Andrew's mind. - -CHAPTER IX - -Prince Andrew reached the general headquarters of the army at the -end of June. The first army, with which was the Emperor, occupied -the fortified camp at Drissa; the second army was retreating, trying -to effect a junction with the first one from which it was said to be -cut off by large French forces. Everyone was dissatisfied with the -general course of affairs in the Russian army, but no one -anticipated any danger of invasion of the Russian provinces, and no -one thought the war would extend farther than the western, the Polish, -provinces. - -Prince Andrew found Barclay de Tolly, to whom he had been -assigned, on the bank of the Drissa. As there was not a single town or -large village in the vicinity of the camp, the immense number of -generals and courtiers accompanying the army were living in the best -houses of the villages on both sides of the river, over a radius of -six miles. Barclay de Tolly was quartered nearly three miles from -the Emperor. He received Bolkonski stiffly and coldly and told him -in his foreign accent that he would mention him to the Emperor for a -decision as to his employment, but asked him meanwhile to remain on -his staff. Anatole Kuragin, whom Prince Andrew had hoped to find -with the army, was not there. He had gone to Petersburg, but Prince -Andrew was glad to hear this. His mind was occupied by the interests -of the center that was conducting a gigantic war, and he was glad to -be free for a while from the distraction caused by the thought of -Kuragin. During the first four days, while no duties were required -of him, Prince Andrew rode round the whole fortified camp and, by -the aid of his own knowledge and by talks with experts, tried to -form a definite opinion about it. But the question whether the camp -was advantageous or disadvantageous remained for him undecided. -Already from his military experience and what he had seen in the -Austrian campaign, he had come to the conclusion that in war the -most deeply considered plans have no significance and that all depends -on the way unexpected movements of the enemy- that cannot be foreseen- -are met, and on how and by whom the whole matter is handled. To -clear up this last point for himself, Prince Andrew, utilizing his -position and acquaintances, tried to fathom the character of the -control of the army and of the men and parties engaged in it, and he -deduced for himself the following of the state of affairs. - -While the Emperor had still been at Vilna, the forces had been -divided into three armies. First, the army under Barclay de Tolly, -secondly, the army under Bagration, and thirdly, the one commanded -by Tormasov. The Emperor was with the first army, but not as commander -in chief. In the orders issued it was stated, not that the Emperor -would take command, but only that he would be with the army. The -Emperor, moreover, had with him not a commander in chief's staff but -the imperial headquarters staff. In attendance on him was the head -of the imperial staff, Quartermaster General Prince Volkonski, as well -as generals, imperial aides-de-camp, diplomatic officials, and a large -number of foreigners, but not the army staff. Besides these, there -were in attendance on the Emperor without any definite appointments: -Arakcheev, the ex-Minister of War; Count Bennigsen, the senior general -in rank; the Grand Duke Tsarevich Constantine Pavlovich; Count -Rumyantsev, the Chancellor; Stein, a former Prussian minister; -Armfeldt, a Swedish general; Pfuel, the chief author of the plan of -campaign; Paulucci, an adjutant general and Sardinian emigre; -Wolzogen- and many others. Though these men had no military -appointment in the army, their position gave them influence, and often -a corps commander, or even the commander in chief, did not know in -what capacity he was questioned by Bennigsen, the Grand Duke, -Arakcheev, or Prince Volkonski, or was given this or that advice and -did not know whether a certain order received in the form of advice -emanated from the man who gave it or from the Emperor and whether it -had to be executed or not. But this was only the external condition; -the essential significance of the presence of the Emperor and of all -these people, from a courtier's point of view (and in an Emperor's -vicinity all became courtiers), was clear to everyone. It was this: -the Emperor did not assume the title of commander in chief, but -disposed of all the armies; the men around him were his assistants. -Arakcheev was a faithful custodian to enforce order and acted as the -sovereign's bodyguard. Bennigsen was a landlord in the Vilna -province who appeared to be doing the honors of the district, but -was in reality a good general, useful as an adviser and ready at -hand to replace Barclay. The Grand Duke was there because it suited -him to be. The ex-Minister Stein was there because his advice was -useful and the Emperor Alexander held him in high esteem personally. -Armfeldt virulently hated Napoleon and was a general full of -self-confidence, a quality that always influenced Alexander. -Paulucci was there because he was bold and decided in speech. The -adjutants general were there because they always accompanied the -Emperor, and lastly and chiefly Pfuel was there because he had drawn -up the plan of campaign against Napoleon and, having induced Alexander -to believe in the efficacy of that plan, was directing the whole -business of the war. With Pfuel was Wolzogen, who expressed Pfuel's -thoughts in a more comprehensible way than Pfuel himself (who was a -harsh, bookish theorist, self-confident to the point of despising -everyone else) was able to do. - -Besides these Russians and foreigners who propounded new and -unexpected ideas every day- especially the foreigners, who did so with -a boldness characteristic of people employed in a country not their -own- there were many secondary personages accompanying the army -because their principals were there. - -Among the opinions and voices in this immense, restless, -brilliant, and proud sphere, Prince Andrew noticed the following -sharply defined subdivisions of and parties: - -The first party consisted of Pfuel and his adherents- military -theorists who believed in a science of war with immutable laws- laws -of oblique movements, outflankings, and so forth. Pfuel and his -adherents demanded a retirement into the depths of the country in -accordance with precise laws defined by a pseudo-theory of war, and -they saw only barbarism, ignorance, or evil intention in every -deviation from that theory. To this party belonged the foreign nobles, -Wolzogen, Wintzingerode, and others, chiefly Germans. - -The second party was directly opposed to the first; one extreme, -as always happens, was met by representatives of the other. The -members of this party were those who had demanded an advance from -Vilna into Poland and freedom from all prearranged plans. Besides -being advocates of bold action, this section also represented -nationalism, which made them still more one-sided in the dispute. They -were Russians: Bagration, Ermolov (who was beginning to come to the -front), and others. At that time a famous joke of Ermolov's was -being circulated, that as a great favor he had petitioned the -Emperor to make him a German. The men of that party, remembering -Suvorov, said that what one had to do was not to reason, or stick pins -into maps, but to fight, beat the enemy, keep him out of Russia, and -not let the army get discouraged. - -To the third party- in which the Emperor had most confidence- -belonged the courtiers who tried to arrange compromises between the -other two. The members of this party, chiefly civilians and to whom -Arakcheev belonged, thought and said what men who have no -convictions but wish to seem to have some generally say. They said -that undoubtedly war, particularly against such a genius as -Bonaparte (they called him Bonaparte now), needs most deeply devised -plans and profound scientific knowledge and in that respect Pfuel -was a genius, but at the same time it had to be acknowledged that -the theorists are often one sided, and therefore one should not -trust them absolutely, but should also listen to what Pfuel's -opponents and practical men of experience in warfare had to say, and -then choose a middle course. They insisted on the retention of the -camp at Drissa, according to Pfuel's plan, but on changing the -movements of the other armies. Though, by this course, neither one aim -nor the other could be attained, yet it seemed best to the adherents -of this third party. - -Of a fourth opinion the most conspicuous representative was the -Tsarevich, who could not forget his disillusionment at Austerlitz, -where he had ridden out at the head of the Guards, in his casque and -cavalry uniform as to a review, expecting to crush the French -gallantly; but unexpectedly finding himself in the front line had -narrowly escaped amid the general confusion. The men of this party had -both the quality and the defect of frankness in their opinions. They -feared Napoleon, recognized his strength and their own weakness, and -frankly said so. They said: "Nothing but sorrow, shame, and ruin -will come of all this! We have abandoned Vilna and Vitebsk and shall -abandon Drissa. The only reasonable thing left to do is to conclude -peace as soon as possible, before we are turned out of Petersburg." - -This view was very general in the upper army circles and found -support also in Petersburg and from the chancellor, Rumyantsev, who, -for other reasons of state, was in favor of peace. - -The fifth party consisted of those who were adherents of Barclay -de Tolly, not so much as a man but as minister of war and commander in -chief. "Be he what he may" (they always began like that), "he is an -honest, practical man and we have nobody better. Give him real -power, for war cannot be conducted successfully without unity of -command, and he will show what he can do, as he did in Finland. If our -army is well organized and strong and has withdrawn to Drissa -without suffering any defeats, we owe this entirely to Barclay. If -Barclay is now to be superseded by Bennigsen all will be lost, for -Bennigsen showed his incapacity already in 1807." - -The sixth party, the Bennigsenites, said, on the contrary, that at -any rate there was no one more active and experienced than -Bennigsen: "and twist about as you may, you will have to come to -Bennigsen eventually. Let the others make mistakes now!" said they, -arguing that our retirement to Drissa was a most shameful reverse -and an unbroken series of blunders. "The more mistakes that are made -the better. It will at any rate be understood all the sooner that -things cannot go on like this. What is wanted is not some Barclay or -other, but a man like Bennigsen, who made his mark in 1807, and to -whom Napoleon himself did justice- a man whose authority would be -willingly recognized, and Bennigsen is the only such man." - -The seventh party consisted of the sort of people who are always -to be found, especially around young sovereigns, and of whom there -were particularly many round Alexander- generals and imperial -aides-de-camp passionately devoted to the Emperor, not merely as a -monarch but as a man, adoring him sincerely and disinterestedly, as -Rostov had done in 1805, and who saw in him not only all the virtues -but all human capabilities as well. These men, though enchanted with -the sovereign for refusing the command of the army, yet blamed him for -such excessive modesty, and only desired and insisted that their -adored sovereign should abandon his diffidence and openly announce -that he would place himself at the head of the army, gather round -him a commander in chief's staff, and, consulting experienced -theoreticians and practical men where necessary, would himself lead -the troops, whose spirits would thereby be raised to the highest -pitch. - -The eighth and largest group, which in its enormous numbers was to -the others as ninety-nine to one, consisted of men who desired neither -peace nor war, neither an advance nor a defensive camp at the Drissa -or anywhere else, neither Barclay nor the Emperor, neither Pfuel nor -Bennigsen, but only the one most essential thing- as much advantage -and pleasure for themselves as possible. In the troubled waters of -conflicting and intersecting intrigues that eddied about the Emperor's -headquarters, it was possible to succeed in many ways unthinkable at -other times. A man who simply wished to retain his lucrative post -would today agree with Pfuel, tomorrow with his opponent, and the -day after, merely to avoid responsibility or to please the Emperor, -would declare that he had no opinion at all on the matter. Another who -wished to gain some advantage would attract the Emperor's attention by -loudly advocating the very thing the Emperor had hinted at the day -before, and would dispute and shout at the council, beating his breast -and challenging those who did not agree with him to duels, thereby -proving that he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the common good. -A third, in the absence of opponents, between two councils would -simply solicit a special gratuity for his faithful services, well -knowing that at that moment people would be too busy to refuse him. -A fourth while seemingly overwhelmed with work would often come -accidentally under the Emperor's eye. A fifth, to achieve his -long-cherished aim of dining with the Emperor, would stubbornly insist -on the correctness or falsity of some newly emerging opinion and for -this object would produce arguments more or less forcible and correct. - -All the men of this party were fishing for rubles, decorations, -and promotions, and in this pursuit watched only the weathercock of -imperial favor, and directly they noticed it turning in any direction, -this whole drone population of the army began blowing hard that way, -so that it was all the harder for the Emperor to turn it elsewhere. -Amid the uncertainties of the position, with the menace of serious -danger giving a peculiarly threatening character to everything, amid -this vortex of intrigue, egotism, conflict of views and feelings, -and the diversity of race among these people- this eighth and -largest party of those preoccupied with personal interests imparted -great confusion and obscurity to the common task. Whatever question -arose, a swarm of these drones, without having finished their -buzzing on a previous theme, flew over to the new one and by their hum -drowned and obscured the voices of those who were disputing honestly. - -From among all these parties, just at the time Prince Andrew reached -the army, another, a ninth party, was being formed and was beginning -to raise its voice. This was the party of the elders, reasonable men -experienced and capable in state affairs, who, without sharing any -of those conflicting opinions, were able to take a detached view of -what was going on at the staff at headquarters and to consider means -of escape from this muddle, indecision, intricacy, and weakness. - -The men of this party said and thought that what was wrong -resulted chiefly from the Emperor's presence in the army with his -military court and from the consequent presence there of an -indefinite, conditional, and unsteady fluctuation of relations, -which is in place at court but harmful in an army; that a sovereign -should reign but not command the army, and that the only way out of -the position would be for the Emperor and his court to leave the army; -that the mere presence of the Emperor paralyzed the action of fifty -thousand men required to secure his personal safety, and that the -worst commander in chief if independent would be better than the -very best one trammeled by the presence and authority of the monarch. - -Just at the time Prince Andrew was living unoccupied at Drissa, -Shishkov, the Secretary of State and one of the chief -representatives of this party, wrote a letter to the Emperor which -Arakcheev and Balashev agreed to sign. In this letter, availing -himself of permission given him by the Emperor to discuss the -general course of affairs, he respectfully suggested- on the plea that -it was necessary for the sovereign to arouse a warlike spirit in the -people of the capital- that the Emperor should leave the army. - -That arousing of the people by their sovereign and his call to -them to defend their country- the very incitement which was the -chief cause of Russia's triumph in so far as it was produced by the -Tsar's personal presence in Moscow- was suggested to the Emperor, -and accepted by him, as a pretext for quitting the army. - -CHAPTER X - -This letter had not yet been presented to the Emperor when -Barclay, one day at dinner, informed Bolkonski that the sovereign -wished to see him personally, to question him about Turkey, and that -Prince Andrew was to present himself at Bennigsen's quarters at six -that evening. - -News was received at the Emperor's quarters that very day of a fresh -movement by Napoleon which might endanger the army- news -subsequently found to be false. And that morning Colonel Michaud had -ridden round the Drissa fortifications with the Emperor and had -pointed out to him that this fortified camp constructed by Pfuel, -and till then considered a chef-d'oeuvre of tactical science which -would ensure Napoleon's destruction, was an absurdity, threatening the -destruction of the Russian army. - -Prince Andrew arrived at Bennigsen's quarters- a country gentleman's -house of moderate size, situated on the very banks of the river. -Neither Bennigsen nor the Emperor was there, but Chernyshev, the -Emperor's aide-de-camp, received Bolkonski and informed him that the -Emperor, accompanied by General Bennigsen and Marquis Paulucci, had -gone a second time that day to inspect the fortifications of the -Drissa camp, of the suitability of which serious doubts were beginning -to be felt. - -Chernyshev was sitting at a window in the first room with a French -novel in his hand. This room had probably been a music room; there was -still an organ in it on which some rugs were piled, and in one -corner stood the folding bedstead of Bennigsen's adjutant. This -adjutant was also there and sat dozing on the rolled-up bedding, -evidently exhausted by work or by feasting. Two doors led from the -room, one straight on into what had been the drawing room, and -another, on the right, to the study. Through the first door came the -sound of voices conversing in German and occasionally in French. In -that drawing room were gathered, by the Emperor's wish, not a military -council (the Emperor preferred indefiniteness), but certain persons -whose opinions he wished to know in view of the impending -difficulties. It was not a council of war, but, as it were, a -council to elucidate certain questions for the Emperor personally. -To this semicouncil had been invited the Swedish General Armfeldt, -Adjutant General Wolzogen, Wintzingerode (whom Napoleon had referred -to as a renegade French subject), Michaud, Toll, Count Stein who was -not a military man at all, and Pfuel himself, who, as Prince Andrew -had heard, was the mainspring of the whole affair. Prince Andrew had -an opportunity of getting a good look at him, for Pfuel arrived soon -after himself and, in passing through to the drawing room, stopped a -minute to speak to Chernyshev. - -At first sight, Pfuel, in his ill-made uniform of a Russian general, -which fitted him badly like a fancy costume, seemed familiar to Prince -Andrew, though he saw him now for the first time. There was about -him something of Weyrother, Mack, and Schmidt, and many other German -theorist-generals whom Prince Andrew had seen in 1805, but he was more -typical than any of them. Prince Andrew had never yet seen a German -theorist in whom all the characteristics of those others were united -to such an extent. - -Pfuel was short and very thin but broad-boned, of coarse, robust -build, broad in the hips, and with prominent shoulder blades. His face -was much wrinkled and his eyes deep set. His hair had evidently been -hastily brushed smooth in front of the temples, but stuck up behind in -quaint little tufts. He entered the room, looking restlessly and -angrily around, as if afraid of everything in that large apartment. -Awkwardly holding up his sword, he addressed Chernyshev and asked in -German where the Emperor was. One could see that he wished to pass -through the rooms as quickly as possible, finish with the bows and -greetings, and sit down to business in front of a map, where he -would feel at home. He nodded hurriedly in reply to Chernyshev, and -smiled ironically on hearing that the sovereign was inspecting the -fortifications that he, Pfuel, had planned in accord with his -theory. He muttered something to himself abruptly and in a bass voice, -as self-assured Germans do- it might have been "stupid fellow"... or -"the whole affair will be ruined," or "something absurd will come of -it."... Prince Andrew did not catch what he said and would have passed -on, but Chernyshev introduced him to Pfuel, remarking that Prince -Andrew was just back from Turkey where the war had terminated so -fortunately. Pfuel barely glanced- not so much at Prince Andrew as -past him- and said, with a laugh: "That must have been a fine tactical -war"; and, laughing contemptuously, went on into the room from which -the sound of voices was heard. - -Pfuel, always inclined to be irritably sarcastic, was particularly -disturbed that day, evidently by the fact that they had dared to -inspect and criticize his camp in his absence. From this short -interview with Pfuel, Prince Andrew, thanks to his Austerlitz -experiences, was able to form a clear conception of the man. Pfuel was -one of those hopelessly and immutably self-confident men, -self-confident to the point of martyrdom as only Germans are, -because only Germans are self-confident on the basis of an abstract -notion- science, that is, the supposed knowledge of absolute truth. -A Frenchman is self-assured because he regards himself personally, -both in mind and body, as irresistibly attractive to men and women. An -Englishman is self-assured, as being a citizen of the best-organized -state in the world, and therefore as an Englishman always knows what -he should do and knows that all he does as an Englishman is -undoubtedly correct. An Italian is self-assured because he is -excitable and easily forgets himself and other people. A Russian is -self-assured just because he knows nothing does not want to know -anything, since he does not believe that anything can be known. The -German's self-assurance is worst of all, stronger and more repulsive -than any other, because he imagines that he knows the truth- -science- which he himself has invented but which is for him the -absolute truth. - -Pfuel was evidently of that sort. He had a science- the theory of -oblique movements deduced by him from the history of Frederick the -Great's wars, and all he came across in the history of more recent -warfare seemed to him absurd and barbarous- monstrous collisions in -which so many blunders were committed by both sides that these wars -could not be called wars, they did not accord with the theory, and -therefore could not serve as material for science. - -In 1806 Pfuel had been one of those responsible, for the plan of -campaign that ended in Jena and Auerstadt, but he did not see the -least proof of the fallibility of his theory in the disasters of -that war. On the contrary, the deviations made from his theory were, -in his opinion, the sole cause of the whole disaster, and with -characteristically gleeful sarcasm he would remark, "There, I said the -whole affair would go to the devil!" Pfuel was one of those -theoreticians who so love their theory that they lose sight of the -theory's object- its practical application. His love of theory made -him hate everything practical, and he would not listen to it. He was -even pleased by failures, for failures resulting from deviations in -practice from the theory only proved to him the accuracy of his -theory. - -He said a few words to Prince Andrew and Chernyshev about the -present war, with the air of a man who knows beforehand that all -will go wrong, and who is not displeased that it should be so. The -unbrushed tufts of hair sticking up behind and the hastily brushed -hair on his temples expressed this most eloquently. - -He passed into the next room, and the deep, querulous sounds of -his voice were at once heard from there. - -CHAPTER XI - -Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when -Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not -pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as -he went. The Emperor was following him, and Bennigsen had hastened -on to make some preparations and to be ready to receive the sovereign. -Chernyshev and Prince Andrew went out into the porch, where the -Emperor, who looked fatigued, was dismounting. Marquis Paulucci was -talking to him with particular warmth and the Emperor, with his head -bent to the left, was listening with a dissatisfied air. The Emperor -moved forward evidently wishing to end the conversation, but the -flushed and excited Italian, oblivious of decorum, followed him and -continued to speak. - -"And as for the man who advised forming this camp- the Drissa camp," -said Paulucci, as the Emperor mounted the steps and noticing Prince -Andrew scanned his unfamiliar face, "as to that person, sire..." -continued Paulucci, desperately, apparently unable to restrain -himself, "the man who advised the Drissa camp- I see no alternative -but the lunatic asylum or the gallows!" - -Without heeding the end of the Italian's remarks, and as though -not hearing them, the Emperor, recognizing Bolkonski, addressed him -graciously. - -"I am very glad to see you! Go in there where they are meeting, -and wait for me." - -The Emperor went into the study. He was followed by Prince Peter -Mikhaylovich Volkonski and Baron Stein, and the door closed behind -them. Prince Andrew, taking advantage of the Emperor's permission, -accompanied Paulucci, whom he had known in Turkey, into the drawing -room where the council was assembled. - -Prince Peter Mikhaylovich Volkonski occupied the position, as it -were, of chief of the Emperor's staff. He came out of the study into -the drawing room with some maps which he spread on a table, and put -questions on which he wished to hear the opinion of the gentlemen -present. What had happened was that news (which afterwards proved to -be false) had been received during the night of a movement by the -French to outflank the Drissa camp. - -The first to speak was General Armfeldt who, to meet the -difficulty that presented itself, unexpectedly proposed a perfectly -new position away from the Petersburg and Moscow roads. The reason for -this was inexplicable (unless he wished to show that he, too, could -have an opinion), but he urged that at this point the army should -unite and there await the enemy. It was plain that Armfeldt had -thought out that plan long ago and now expounded it not so much to -answer the questions put- which, in fact, his plan did not answer- -as to avail himself of the opportunity to air it. It was one of the -millions of proposals, one as good as another, that could be made as -long as it was quite unknown what character the war would take. Some -disputed his arguments, others defended them. Young Count Toll -objected to the Swedish general's views more warmly than anyone -else, and in the course of the dispute drew from his side pocket a -well-filled notebook, which he asked permission to read to them. In -these voluminous notes Toll suggested another scheme, totally -different from Armfeldt's or Pfuel's plan of campaign. In answer to -Toll, Paulucci suggested an advance and an attack, which, he urged, -could alone extricate us from the present uncertainty and from the -trap (as he called the Drissa camp) in which we were situated. - -During all these discussions Pfuel and his interpreter, Wolzogen -(his "bridge" in court relations), were silent. Pfuel only snorted -contemptuously and turned away, to show that he would never demean -himself by replying to such nonsense as he was now hearing. So when -Prince Volkonski, who was in the chair, called on him to give his -opinion, he merely said: - -"Why ask me? General Armfeldt has proposed a splendid position -with an exposed rear, or why not this Italian gentleman's attack- very -fine, or a retreat, also good! Why ask me?" said he. "Why, you -yourselves know everything better than I do." - -But when Volkonski said, with a frown, that it was in the -Emperor's name that he asked his opinion, Pfuel rose and, suddenly -growing animated, began to speak: - -"Everything has been spoiled, everything muddled, everybody -thought they knew better than I did, and now you come to me! How -mend matters? There is nothing to mend! The principles laid down by me -must be strictly adhered to," said he, drumming on the table with -his bony fingers. "What is the difficulty? Nonsense, childishness!" - -He went up to the map and speaking rapidly began proving that no -eventuality could alter the efficiency of the Drissa camp, that -everything had been foreseen, and that if the enemy were really -going to outflank it, the enemy would inevitably be destroyed. - -Paulucci, who did not know German, began questioning him in -French. Wolzogen came to the assistance of his chief, who spoke French -badly, and began translating for him, hardly able to keep pace with -Pfuel, who was rapidly demonstrating that not only all that had -happened, but all that could happen, had been foreseen in his -scheme, and that if there were now any difficulties the whole fault -lay in the fact that his plan had not been precisely executed. He kept -laughing sarcastically, he demonstrated, and at last contemptuously -ceased to demonstrate, like a mathematician who ceases to prove in -various ways the accuracy of a problem that has already been proved. -Wolzogen took his place and continued to explain his views in -French, every now and then turning to Pfuel and saying, "Is it not so, -your excellency?" But Pfuel, like a man heated in a fight who -strikes those on his own side, shouted angrily at his own supporter, -Wolzogen: - -"Well, of course, what more is there to explain?" - -Paulucci and Michaud both attacked Wolzogen simultaneously in -French. Armfeldt addressed Pfuel in German. Toll explained to -Volkonski in Russian. Prince Andrew listened and observed in silence. - -Of all these men Prince Andrew sympathized most with Pfuel, angry, -determined, and absurdly self-confident as he was. Of all those -present, evidently he alone was not seeking anything for himself, -nursed no hatred against anyone, and only desired that the plan, -formed on a theory arrived at by years of toil, should be carried out. -He was ridiculous, and unpleasantly sarcastic, but yet he inspired -involuntary respect by his boundless devotion to an idea. Besides -this, the remarks of all except Pfuel had one common trait that had -not been noticeable at the council of war in 1805: there was now a -panic fear of Napoleon's genius, which, though concealed, was -noticeable in every rejoinder. Everything was assumed to be possible -for Napoleon, they expected him from every side, and invoked his -terrible name to shatter each other's proposals. Pfuel alone seemed to -consider Napoleon a barbarian like everyone else who opposed his -theory. But besides this feeling of respect, Pfuel evoked pity in -Prince Andrew. From the tone in which the courtiers addressed him -and the way Paulucci had allowed himself to speak of him to the -Emperor, but above all from a certain desperation in Pfuel's own -expressions, it was clear that the others knew, and Pfuel himself -felt, that his fall was at hand. And despite his self-confidence and -grumpy German sarcasm he was pitiable, with his hair smoothly -brushed on the temples and sticking up in tufts behind. Though he -concealed the fact under a show of irritation and contempt, he was -evidently in despair that the sole remaining chance of verifying his -theory by a huge experiment and proving its soundness to the whole -world was slipping away from him. - -The discussions continued a long time, and the longer they lasted -the more heated became the disputes, culminating in shouts and -personalities, and the less was it possible to arrive at any general -conclusion from all that had been said. Prince Andrew, listening to -this polyglot talk and to these surmises, plans, refutations, and -shouts, felt nothing but amazement at what they were saying. A thought -that had long since and often occurred to him during his military -activities- the idea that there is not and cannot be any science of -war, and that therefore there can be no such thing as a military -genius- now appeared to him an obvious truth. "What theory and science -is possible about a matter the conditions and circumstances of which -are unknown and cannot be defined, especially when the strength of the -acting forces cannot be ascertained? No one was or is able to -foresee in what condition our or the enemy's armies will be in a day's -time, and no one can gauge the force of this or that detachment. -Sometimes- when there is not a coward at the front to shout, 'We are -cut off!' and start running, but a brave and jolly lad who shouts, -'Hurrah!'- a detachment of five thousand is worth thirty thousand, -as at Schon Grabern, while at times fifty thousand run from eight -thousand, as at Austerlitz. What science can there be in a matter in -which, as in all practical matters, nothing can be defined and -everything depends on innumerable conditions, the significance of -which is determined at a particular moment which arrives no one -knows when? Armfeldt says our army is cut in half, and Paulucci says -we have got the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the -worthlessness of the Drissa camp lies in having the river behind it, -and Pfuel says that is what constitutes its strength; Toll proposes -one plan, Armfeldt another, and they are all good and all bad, and the -advantages of any suggestions can be seen only at the moment of trial. -And why do they all speak of a 'military genius'? Is a man a genius -who can order bread to be brought up at the right time and say who -is to go to the right and who to the left? It is only because military -men are invested with pomp and power and crowds of sychophants flatter -power, attributing to it qualities of genius it does not possess. -The best generals I have known were, on the contrary, stupid or -absent-minded men. Bagration was the best, Napoleon himself admitted -that. And of Bonaparte himself! I remember his limited, self-satisfied -face on the field of Austerlitz. Not only does a good army commander -not need any special qualities, on the contrary he needs the absence -of the highest and best human attributes- love, poetry, tenderness, -and philosophic inquiring doubt. He should be limited, firmly -convinced that what he is doing is very important (otherwise he will -not have sufficient patience), and only then will he be a brave -leader. God forbid that he should be humane, should love, or pity, -or think of what is just and unjust. It is understandable that a -theory of their 'genius' was invented for them long ago because they -have power! The success of a military action depends not on them, -but on the man in the ranks who shouts, 'We are lost!' or who -shouts, 'Hurrah!' And only in the ranks can one serve with assurance -of being useful." - -So thought Prince Andrew as he listened to the talking, and he -roused himself only when Paulucci called him and everyone was leaving. - -At the review next day the Emperor asked Prince Andrew where he -would like to serve, and Prince Andrew lost his standing in court -circles forever by not asking to remain attached to the sovereign's -person, but for permission to serve in the army. - -CHAPTER XII - -Before the beginning of the campaign, Rostov had received a letter -from his parents in which they told him briefly of Natasha's illness -and the breaking off of her engagement to Prince Andrew (which they -explained by Natasha's having rejected him) and again asked Nicholas -to retire from the army and return home. On receiving this letter, -Nicholas did not even make any attempt to get leave of absence or to -retire from the army, but wrote to his parents that he was sorry -Natasha was ill and her engagement broken off, and that he would do -all he could to meet their wishes. To Sonya he wrote separately. - -"Adored friend of my soul!" he wrote. "Nothing but honor could -keep me from returning to the country. But now, at the commencement of -the campaign, I should feel dishonored, not only in my comrades' -eyes but in my own, if I preferred my own happiness to my love and -duty to the Fatherland. But this shall be our last separation. Believe -me, directly the war is over, if I am still alive and still loved by -you, I will throw up everything and fly to you, to press you forever -to my ardent breast." - -It was, in fact, only the commencement of the campaign that -prevented Rostov from returning home as he had promised and marrying -Sonya. The autumn in Otradnoe with the hunting, and the winter with -the Christmas holidays and Sonya's love, had opened out to him a vista -of tranquil rural joys and peace such as he had never known before, -and which now allured him. "A splendid wife, children, a good pack -of hounds, a dozen leashes of smart borzois, agriculture, neighbors, -service by election..." thought he. But now the campaign was -beginning, and he had to remain with his regiment. And since it had to -be so, Nicholas Rostov, as was natural to him, felt contented with the -life he led in the regiment and was able to find pleasure in that -life. - -On his return from his furlough Nicholas, having been joyfully -welcomed by his comrades, was sent to obtain remounts and brought back -from the Ukraine excellent horses which pleased him and earned him -commendation from his commanders. During his absence he had been -promoted captain, and when the regiment was put on war footing with an -increase in numbers, he was again allotted his old squadron. - -The campaign began, the regiment was moved into Poland on double -pay, new officers arrived, new men and horses, and above all everybody -was infected with the merrily excited mood that goes with the -commencement of a war, and Rostov, conscious of his advantageous -position in the regiment, devoted himself entirely to the pleasures -and interests of military service, though he knew that sooner or later -he would have to relinquish them. - -The troops retired from Vilna for various complicated reasons of -state, political and strategic. Each step of the retreat was -accompanied by a complicated interplay of interests, arguments, and -passions at headquarters. For the Pavlograd hussars, however, the -whole of this retreat during the finest period of summer and with -sufficient supplies was a very simple and agreeable business. - -It was only at headquarters that there was depression, uneasiness, -and intriguing; in the body of the army they did not ask themselves -where they were going or why. If they regretted having to retreat, -it was only because they had to leave billets they had grown -accustomed to, or some pretty young Polish lady. If the thought that -things looked bad chanced to enter anyone's head, he tried to be as -cheerful as befits a good soldier and not to think of the general -trend of affairs, but only of the task nearest to hand. First they -camped gaily before Vilna, making acquaintance with the Polish -landowners, preparing for reviews and being reviewed by the Emperor -and other high commanders. Then came an order to retreat to Sventsyani -and destroy any provisions they could not carry away with them. -Sventsyani was remembered by the hussars only as the drunken camp, a -name the whole army gave to their encampment there, and because many -complaints were made against the troops, who, taking advantage of -the order to collect provisions, took also horses, carriages, and -carpets from the Polish proprietors. Rostov remembered Sventsyani, -because on the first day of their arrival at that small town he -changed his sergeant major and was unable to manage all the drunken -men of his squadron who, unknown to him, had appropriated five barrels -of old beer. From Sventsyani they retired farther and farther to -Drissa, and thence again beyond Drissa, drawing near to the frontier -of Russia proper. - -On the thirteenth of July the Pavlograds took part in a serious -action for the first time. - -On the twelfth of July, on the eve of that action, there was a heavy -storm of rain and hail. In general, the summer of 18l2 was -remarkable for its storms. - -The two Pavlograd squadrons were bivouacking on a field of rye, -which was already in ear but had been completely trodden down by -cattle and horses. The rain was descending in torrents, and Rostov, -with a young officer named Ilyin, his protege, was sitting in a -hastily constructed shelter. An officer of their regiment, with long -mustaches extending onto his cheeks, who after riding to the staff had -been overtaken by the rain, entered Rostov's shelter. - -"I have come from the staff, Count. Have you heard of Raevski's -exploit?" - -And the officer gave them details of the Saltanov battle, which he -had heard at the staff. - -Rostov, smoking his pipe and turning his head about as the water -trickled down his neck, listened inattentively, with an occasional -glance at Ilyin, who was pressing close to him. This officer, a lad of -sixteen who had recently joined the regiment, was now in the same -relation to Nicholas that Nicholas had been to Denisov seven years -before. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and adored him -as a girl might have done. - -Zdrzhinski, the officer with the long mustache, spoke -grandiloquently of the Saltanov dam being "a Russian Thermopylae," and -of how a deed worthy of antiquity had been performed by General -Raevski. He recounted how Raevski had led his two sons onto the dam -under terrific fire and had charged with them beside him. Rostov heard -the story and not only said nothing to encourage Zdrzhinski's -enthusiasm but, on the contrary, looked like a man ashamed of what -he was hearing, though with no intention of contradicting it. Since -the campaigns of Austerlitz and of 1807 Rostov knew by experience that -men always lie when describing military exploits, as he himself had -done when recounting them; besides that, he had experience enough to -know that nothing happens in war at all as we can imagine or relate -it. And so he did not like Zdrzhinski's tale, nor did he like -Zdrzhinski himself who, with his mustaches extending over his -cheeks, bent low over the face of his hearer, as was his habit, and -crowded Rostov in the narrow shanty. Rostov looked at him in -silence. "In the first place, there must have been such a confusion -and crowding on the dam that was being attacked that if Raevski did -lead his sons there, it could have had no effect except perhaps on -some dozen men nearest to him," thought he, "the rest could not have -seen how or with whom Raevski came onto the dam. And even those who -did see it would not have been much stimulated by it, for what had -they to do with Raevski's tender paternal feelings when their own -skins were in danger? And besides, the fate of the Fatherland did -not depend on whether they took the Saltanov dam or not, as we are -told was the case at Thermopylae. So why should he have made such a -sacrifice? And why expose his own children in the battle? I would -not have taken my brother Petya there, or even Ilyin, who's a stranger -to me but a nice lad, but would have tried to put them somewhere under -cover," Nicholas continued to think, as he listened to Zdrzhinski. But -he did not express his thoughts, for in such matters, too, he had -gained experience. He knew that this tale redounded to the glory of -our arms and so one had to pretend not to doubt it. And he acted -accordingly. - -"I can't stand this any more," said Ilyin, noticing that Rostov -did not relish Zdrzhinski's conversation. "My stockings and shirt... -and the water is running on my seat! I'll go and look for shelter. The -rain seems less heavy." - -Ilyin went out and Zdrzhinski rode away. - -Five minutes later Ilyin, splashing through the mud, came running -back to the shanty. - -"Hurrah! Rostov, come quick! I've found it! About two hundred -yards away there's a tavern where ours have already gathered. We can -at least get dry there, and Mary Hendrikhovna's there." - -Mary Hendrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a pretty -young German woman he had married in Poland. The doctor, whether -from lack of means or because he did not like to part from his young -wife in the early days of their marriage, took her about with him -wherever the hussar regiment went and his jealousy had become a -standing joke among the hussar officers. - -Rostov threw his cloak over his shoulders, shouted to Lavrushka to -follow with the things, and- now slipping in the mud, now splashing -right through it- set off with Ilyin in the lessening rain and the -darkness that was occasionally rent by distant lightning. - -"Rostov, where are you?" - -"Here. What lightning!" they called to one another. - -CHAPTER XIII - -In the tavern, before which stood the doctor's covered cart, there -were already some five officers. Mary Hendrikhovna, a plump little -blonde German, in a dressing jacket and nightcap, was sitting on a -broad bench in the front corner. Her husband, the doctor, lay asleep -behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, on entering the room, were welcomed with -merry shouts and laughter. - -"Dear me, how jolly we are!" said Rostov laughing. - -"And why do you stand there gaping?" - -"What swells they are! Why, the water streams from them! Don't -make our drawing room so wet." - -"Don't mess Mary Hendrikhovna's dress!" cried other voices. - -Rostov and Ilyin hastened to find a corner where they could change -into dry clothes without offending Mary Hendrikhovna's modesty. They -were going into a tiny recess behind a partition to change, but -found it completely filled by three officers who sat playing cards -by the light of a solitary candle on an empty box, and these -officers would on no account yield their position. Mary Hendrikhovna -obliged them with the loan of a petticoat to be used as a curtain, and -behind that screen Rostov and Ilyin, helped by Lavrushka who had -brought their kits, changed their wet things for dry ones. - -A fire was made up in the dilapidated brick stove. A board was -found, fixed on two saddles and covered with a horsecloth, a small -samovar was produced and a cellaret and half a bottle of rum, and -having asked Mary Hendrikhovna to preside, they all crowded round her. -One offered her a clean handkerchief to wipe her charming hands, -another spread a jacket under her little feet to keep them from the -damp, another hung his coat over the window to keep out the draft, and -yet another waved the flies off her husband's face, lest he should -wake up. - -"Leave him alone," said Mary Hendrikhovna, smiling timidly and -happily. "He is sleeping well as it is, after a sleepless night." - -"Oh, no, Mary Hendrikhovna," replied the officer, "one must look -after the doctor. Perhaps he'll take pity on me someday, when it comes -to cutting off a leg or an arm for me." - -There were only three tumblers, the water was so muddy that one -could not make out whether the tea was strong or weak, and the samovar -held only six tumblers of water, but this made it all the pleasanter -to take turns in order of seniority to receive one's tumbler from Mary -Hendrikhovna's plump little hands with their short and not overclean -nails. All the officers appeared to be, and really were, in love -with her that evening. Even those playing cards behind the partition -soon left their game and came over to the samovar, yielding to the -general mood of courting Mary Hendrikhovna. She, seeing herself -surrounded by such brilliant and polite young men, beamed with -satisfaction, try as she might to hide it, and perturbed as she -evidently was each time her husband moved in his sleep behind her. - -There was only one spoon, sugar was more plentiful than anything -else, but it took too long to dissolve, so it was decided that Mary -Hendrikhovna should stir the sugar for everyone in turn. Rostov -received his tumbler, and adding some rum to it asked Mary -Hendrikhovna to stir it. - -"But you take it without sugar?" she said, smiling all the time, -as if everything she said and everything the others said was very -amusing and had a double meaning. - -"It is not the sugar I want, but only that your little hand should -stir my tea." - -Mary Hendrikhovna assented and began looking for the spoon which -someone meanwhile had pounced on. - -"Use your finger, Mary Hendrikhovna, it will be still nicer," said -Rostov. - -"Too hot!" she replied, blushing with pleasure. - -Ilyin put a few drops of rum into the bucket of water and brought it -to Mary Hendrikhovna, asking her to stir it with her finger. - -"This is my cup," said he. "Only dip your finger in it and I'll -drink it all up." - -When they had emptied the samovar, Rostov took a pack of cards and -proposed that they should play "Kings" with Mary Hendrikhovna. They -drew lots to settle who should make up her set. At Rostov's suggestion -it was agreed that whoever became "King" should have the right to kiss -Mary Hendrikhovna's hand, and that the "Booby" should go to refill and -reheat the samovar for the doctor when the latter awoke. - -"Well, but supposing Mary Hendrikhovna is 'King'?" asked Ilyin. - -"As it is, she is Queen, and her word is law!" - -They had hardly begun to play before the doctor's disheveled head -suddenly appeared from behind Mary Hendrikhovna. He had been awake for -some time, listening to what was being said, and evidently found -nothing entertaining or amusing in what was going on. His face was sad -and depressed. Without greeting the officers, he scratched himself and -asked to be allowed to pass as they were blocking the way. As soon -as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter -and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and -thereby became still more attractive to them. Returning from the yard, -the doctor told his wife (who had ceased to smile so happily, and -looked at him in alarm, awaiting her sentence) that the rain had -ceased and they must go to sleep in their covered cart, or -everything in it would be stolen. - -"But I'll send an orderly.... Two of them!" said Rostov. "What an -idea, doctor!" - -"I'll stand guard on it myself!" said Ilyin. - -"No, gentlemen, you have had your sleep, but I have not slept for -two nights," replied the doctor, and he sat down morosely beside his -wife, waiting for the game to end. - -Seeing his gloomy face as he frowned at his wife, the officers -grew still merrier, and some of them could not refrain from -laughter, for which they hurriedly sought plausible pretexts. When -he had gone, taking his wife with him, and had settled down with her -in their covered cart, the officers lay down in the tavern, covering -themselves with their wet cloaks, but they did not sleep for a long -time; now they exchanged remarks, recalling the doctor's uneasiness -and his wife's delight, now they ran out into the porch and reported -what was taking place in the covered trap. Several times Rostov, -covering his head, tried to go to sleep, but some remark would -arouse him and conversation would be resumed, to the accompaniment -of unreasoning, merry, childlike laughter. - -CHAPTER XIV - -It was nearly three o'clock but no one was yet asleep, when the -quartermaster appeared with an order to move on to the little town -of Ostrovna. Still laughing and talking, the officers began -hurriedly getting ready and again boiled again boiled some muddy water -in the samovar. But Rostov went off to his squadron without waiting -for tea. Day was breaking, the rain had ceased, and the clouds were -dispersing. It felt damp and cold, especially in clothes that were -still moist. As they left the tavern in the twilight of the dawn, -Rostov and Ilyin both glanced under the wet and glistening leather -hood of the doctor's cart, from under the apron of which his feet were -sticking out, and in the middle of which his wife's nightcap was -visible and her sleepy breathing audible. - -"She really is a dear little thing," said Rostov to Ilyin, who was -following him. - -"A charming woman!" said Ilyin, with all the gravity of a boy of -sixteen. - -Half an hour later the squadron was lined up on the road. The -command was heard to "mount" and the soldiers crossed themselves and -mounted. Rostov riding in front gave the order "Forward!" and the -hussars, with clanking sabers and subdued talk, their horses' hoofs -splashing in the mud, defiled in fours and moved along the broad -road planted with birch trees on each side, following the infantry and -a battery that had gone on in front. - -Tattered, blue-purple clouds, reddening in the east, were scudding -before the wind. It was growing lighter and lighter. That curly -grass which always grows by country roadsides became clearly -visible, still wet with the night's rain; the drooping branches of the -birches, also wet, swayed in the wind and flung down bright drops of -water to one side. The soldiers' faces were more and more clearly -visible. Rostov, always closely followed by Ilyin, rode along the side -of the road between two rows of birch trees. - -When campaigning, Rostov allowed himself the indulgence of riding -not a regimental but a Cossack horse. A judge of horses and a -sportsman, he had lately procured himself a large, fine, mettlesome, -Donets horse, dun-colored, with light mane and tail, and when he -rode it no one could outgallop him. To ride this horse was a -pleasure to him, and he thought of the horse, of the morning, of the -doctor's wife, but not once of the impending danger. - -Formerly, when going into action, Rostov had felt afraid; now he had -not the least feeling of fear. He was fearless, not because he had -grown used to being under fire (one cannot grow used to danger), but -because he had learned how to manage his thoughts when in danger. He -had grown accustomed when going into action to think about anything -but what would seem most likely to interest him- the impending danger. -During the first period of his service, hard as he tried and much as -he reproached himself with cowardice, he had not been able to do this, -but with time it had come of itself. Now he rode beside Ilyin under -the birch trees, occasionally plucking leaves from a branch that met -his hand, sometimes touching his horse's side with his foot, or, -without turning round, handing a pipe he had finished to an hussar -riding behind him, with as calm and careless an air as though he -were merely out for a ride. He glanced with pity at the excited face -of Ilyin, who talked much and in great agitation. He knew from -experience the tormenting expectation of terror and death the cornet -was suffering and knew that only time could help him. - -As soon as the sun appeared in a clear strip of sky beneath the -clouds, the wind fell, as if it dared not spoil the beauty of the -summer morning after the storm; drops still continued to fall, but -vertically now, and all was still. The whole sun appeared on the -horizon and disappeared behind a long narrow cloud that hung above it. -A few minutes later it reappeared brighter still from behind the top -of the cloud, tearing its edge. Everything grew bright and -glittered. And with that light, and as if in reply to it, came the -sound of guns ahead of them. - -Before Rostov had had time to consider and determine the distance of -that firing, Count Ostermann-Tolstoy's adjutant came galloping from -Vitebsk with orders to advance at a trot along the road. - -The squadron overtook and passed the infantry and the battery- which -had also quickened their pace- rode down a hill, and passing through -an empty and deserted village again ascended. The horses began to -lather and the men to flush. - -"Halt! Dress your ranks!" the order of the regimental commander -was heard ahead. "Forward by the left. Walk, march!" came the order -from in front. - -And the hussars, passing along the line of troops on the left -flank of our position, halted behind our Uhlans who were in the -front line. To the right stood our infantry in a dense column: they -were the reserve. Higher up the hill, on the very horizon, our guns -were visible through the wonderfully clear air, brightly illuminated -by slanting morning sunbeams. In front, beyond a hollow dale, could be -seen the enemy's columns and guns. Our advanced line, already in -action, could be heard briskly exchanging shots with the enemy in -the dale. - -At these sounds, long unheard, Rostov's spirits rose, as at the -strains of the merriest music. Trap-ta-ta-tap! cracked the shots, -now together, now several quickly one after another. Again all was -silent and then again it sounded as if someone were walking on -detonators and exploding them. - -The hussars remained in the same place for about an hour. A -cannonade began. Count Ostermann with his suite rode up behind the -squadron, halted, spoke to the commander of the regiment, and rode -up the hill to the guns. - -After Ostermann had gone, a command rang out to the Uhlans. - -"Form column! Prepare to charge!" - -The infantry in front of them parted into platoons to allow the -cavalry to pass. The Uhlans started, the streamers on their spears -fluttering, and trotted downhill toward the French cavalry which was -seen below to the left. - -As soon as the Uhlans descended the hill, the hussars were ordered -up the hill to support the battery. As they took the places vacated by -the Uhlans, bullets came from the front, whining and whistling, but -fell spent without taking effect. - -The sounds, which he had not heard for so long, had an even more -pleasurable and exhilarating effect on Rostov than the previous sounds -of firing. Drawing himself up, he viewed the field of battle opening -out before him from the hill, and with his whole soul followed the -movement of the Uhlans. They swooped down close to the French -dragoons, something confused happened there amid the smoke, and five -minutes later our Uhlans were galloping back, not to the place they -had occupied but more to the left, and among the orange-colored Uhlans -on chestnut horses and behind them, in a large group, blue French -dragoons on gray horses could be seen. - -CHAPTER XV - -Rostov, with his keen sportsman's eye, was one of the first to catch -sight of these blue French dragoons pursuing our Uhlans. Nearer and -nearer in disorderly crowds came the Uhlans and the French dragoons -pursuing them. He could already see how these men, who looked so small -at the foot of the hill, jostled and overtook one another, waving -their arms and their sabers in the air. - -Rostov gazed at what was happening before him as at a hunt. He -felt instinctively that if the hussars struck at the French dragoons -now, the latter could not withstand them, but if a charge was to be -made it must be done now, at that very moment, or it would be too -late. He looked around. A captain, standing beside him, was gazing -like himself with eyes fixed on the cavalry below them. - -"Andrew Sevastyanych!" said Rostov. "You know, we could crush -them...." - -"A fine thing too!" replied the captain, "and really..." - -Rostov, without waiting to hear him out, touched his horse, galloped -to the front of his squadron, and before he had time to finish -giving the word of command, the whole squadron, sharing his feeling, -was following him. Rostov himself did not know how or why he did it. -He acted as he did when hunting, without reflecting or considering. He -saw the dragoons near and that they were galloping in disorder; he -knew they could not withstand an attack- knew there was only that -moment and that if he let it slip it would not return. The bullets -were whining and whistling so stimulatingly around him and his horse -was so eager to go that he could not restrain himself. He touched -his horse, gave the word of command, and immediately, hearing behind -him the tramp of the horses of his deployed squadron, rode at full -trot downhill toward the dragoons. Hardly had they reached the -bottom of the hill before their pace instinctively changed to a -gallop, which grew faster and faster as they drew nearer to our Uhlans -and the French dragoons who galloped after them. The dragoons were now -close at hand. On seeing the hussars, the foremost began to turn, -while those behind began to halt. With the same feeling with which -he had galloped across the path of a wolf, Rostov gave rein to his -Donets horse and galloped to intersect the path of the dragoons' -disordered lines. One Uhlan stopped, another who was on foot flung -himself to the ground to avoid being knocked over, and a riderless -horse fell in among the hussars. Nearly all the French dragoons were -galloping back. Rostov, picking out one on a gray horse, dashed -after him. On the way he came upon a bush, his gallant horse cleared -it, and almost before he had righted himself in his saddle he saw that -he would immediately overtake the enemy he had selected. That -Frenchman, by his uniform an officer, was going at a gallop, crouching -on his gray horse and urging it on with his saber. In another moment -Rostov's horse dashed its breast against the hindquarters of the -officer's horse, almost knocking it over, and at the same instant -Rostov, without knowing why, raised his saber and struck the Frenchman -with it. - -The instant he had done this, all Rostov's animation vanished. The -officer fell, not so much from the blow- which had but slightly cut -his arm above the elbow- as from the shock to his horse and from -fright. Rostov reined in his horse, and his eyes sought his foe to see -whom he had vanquished. The French dragoon officer was hopping with -one foot on the ground, the other being caught in the stirrup. His -eyes, screwed up with fear as if he every moment expected another -blow, gazed up at Rostov with shrinking terror. His pale and -mud-stained face- fair and young, with a dimple in the chin and -light-blue eyes- was not an enemy's face at all suited to a -battlefield, but a most ordinary, homelike face. Before Rostov had -decided what to do with him, the officer cried, "I surrender!" He -hurriedly but vainly tried to get his foot out of the stirrup and -did not remove his frightened blue eyes from Rostov's face. Some -hussars who galloped up disengaged his foot and helped him into the -saddle. On all sides, the hussars were busy with the dragoons; one was -wounded, but though his face was bleeding, he would not give up his -horse; another was perched up behind an hussar with his arms round -him; a third was being helped by an hussar to mount his horse. In -front, the French infantry were firing as they ran. The hussars -galloped hastily back with their prisoners. Rostov galloped back -with the rest, aware of an unpleasant feeling of depression in his -heart. Something vague and confused, which he could not at all account -for, had come over him with the capture of that officer and the blow -he had dealt him. - -Count Ostermann-Tolstoy met the returning hussars, sent for -Rostov, thanked him, and said he would report his gallant deed to -the Emperor and would recommend him for a St. George's Cross. When -sent for by Count Ostermann, Rostov, remembering that he had charged -without orders, felt sure his commander was sending for him to -punish him for breach of discipline. Ostermann's flattering words -and promise of a reward should therefore have struck him all the -more pleasantly, but he still felt that same vaguely disagreeable -feeling of moral nausea. "But what on earth is worrying me?" he -asked himself as he rode back from the general. "Ilyin? No, he's safe. -Have I disgraced myself in any way? No, that's not it." Something -else, resembling remorse, tormented him. "Yes, oh yes, that French -officer with the dimple. And I remember how my arm paused when I -raised it." - -Rostov saw the prisoners being led away and galloped after them to -have a look at his Frenchman with the dimple on his chin. He was -sitting in his foreign uniform on an hussar packhorse and looked -anxiously about him; The sword cut on his arm could scarcely be called -a wound. He glanced at Rostov with a feigned smile and waved his -hand in greeting. Rostov still had the same indefinite feeling, as -of shame. - -All that day and the next his friends and comrades noticed that -Rostov, without being dull or angry, was silent, thoughtful, and -preoccupied. He drank reluctantly, tried to remain alone, and kept -turning something over in his mind. - -Rostov was always thinking about that brilliant exploit of his, -which to his amazement had gained him the St. George's Cross and -even given him a reputation for bravery, and there was something he -could not at all understand. "So others are even more afraid than I -am!" he thought. "So that's all there is in what is called heroism! -And heroism! And did I do it for my country's sake? And how was he -to blame, with his dimple and blue eyes? And how frightened he was! He -thought that I should kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand -trembled. And they have given me a St. George's Cross.... I can't make -it out at all." - -But while Nicholas was considering these questions and still could -reach no clear solution of what puzzled him so, the wheel of fortune -in the service, as often happens, turned in his favor. After the -affair at Ostrovna he was brought into notice, received command of -an hussar battalion, and when a brave officer was needed he was -chosen. - -CHAPTER XVI - -On receiving news of Natasha's illness, the countess, though not -quite well yet and still weak, went to Moscow with Petya and the -rest of the household, and the whole family moved from Marya -Dmitrievna's house to their own and settled down in town. - -Natasha's illness was so serious that, fortunately for her and for -her parents, the consideration of all that had caused the illness, her -conduct and the breaking off of her engagement, receded into the -background. She was so ill that it was impossible for them to consider -in how far she was to blame for what had happened. She could not eat -or sleep, grew visibly thinner, coughed, and, as the doctors made them -feel, was in danger. They could not think of anything but how to -help her. Doctors came to see her singly and in consultation, talked -much in French, German, and Latin, blamed one another, and -prescribed a great variety of medicines for all the diseases known -to them, but the simple idea never occurred to any of them that they -could not know the disease Natasha was suffering from, as no disease -suffered by a live man can be known, for every living person has his -own peculiarities and always has his own peculiar, personal, novel, -complicated disease, unknown to medicine- not a disease of the -lungs, liver, skin, heart, nerves, and so on mentioned in medical -books, but a disease consisting of one of the innumerable combinations -of the maladies of those organs. This simple thought could not occur -to the doctors (as it cannot occur to a wizard that he is unable to -work his charms) because the business of their lives was to cure, -and they received money for it and had spent the best years of their -lives on that business. But, above all, that thought was kept out of -their minds by the fact that they saw they were really useful, as in -fact they were to the whole Rostov family. Their usefulness did not -depend on making the patient swallow substances for the most part -harmful (the harm was scarcely perceptible, as they were given in -small doses), but they were useful, necessary, and indispensable -because they satisfied a mental need of the invalid and of those who -loved her- and that is why there are, and always will be, -pseudo-healers, wise women, homeopaths, and allopaths. They -satisfied that eternal human need for hope of relief, for sympathy, -and that something should be done, which is felt by those who are -suffering. They satisfied the need seen in its most elementary form in -a child, when it wants to have a place rubbed that has been hurt. A -child knocks itself and runs at once to the arms of its mother or -nurse to have the aching spot rubbed or kissed, and it feels better -when this is done. The child cannot believe that the strongest and -wisest of its people have no remedy for its pain, and the hope of -relief and the expression of its mother's sympathy while she rubs -the bump comforts it. The doctors were of use to Natasha because -they kissed and rubbed her bump, assuring her that it would soon -pass if only the coachman went to the chemist's in the Arbat and got a -powder and some pills in a pretty box of a ruble and seventy kopeks, -and if she took those powders in boiled water at intervals of -precisely two hours, neither more nor less. - -What would Sonya and the count and countess have done, how would -they have looked, if nothing had been done, if there had not been -those pills to give by the clock, the warm drinks, the chicken -cutlets, and all the other details of life ordered by the doctors, the -carrying out of which supplied an occupation and consolation to the -family circle? How would the count have borne his dearly loved -daughter's illness had he not known that it was costing him a thousand -rubles, and that he would not grudge thousands more to benefit her, or -had he not known that if her illness continued he would not grudge yet -other thousands and would take her abroad for consultations there, and -had he not been able to explain the details of how Metivier and Feller -had not understood the symptoms, but Frise had, and Mudrov had -diagnosed them even better? What would the countess have done had -she not been able sometimes to scold the invalid for not strictly -obeying the doctor's orders? - -"You'll never get well like that," she would say, forgetting her -grief in her vexation, "if you won't obey the doctor and take your -medicine at the right time! You mustn't trifle with it, you know, or -it may turn to pneumonia," she would go on, deriving much comfort from -the utterance of that foreign word, incomprehensible to others as well -as to herself. - -What would Sonya have done without the glad consciousness that she -had not undressed during the first three nights, in order to be -ready to carry out all the doctor's injunctions with precision, and -that she still kept awake at night so as not to miss the proper time -when the slightly harmful pills in the little gilt box had to be -administered? Even to Natasha herself it was pleasant to see that so -many sacrifices were being made for her sake, and to know that she had -to take medicine at certain hours, though she declared that no -medicine would cure her and that it was all nonsense. And it was -even pleasant to be able to show, by disregarding the orders, that she -did not believe in medical treatment and did not value her life. - -The doctor came every day, felt her pulse, looked at her tongue, and -regardless of her grief-stricken face joked with her. But when he -had gone into another room, to which the countess hurriedly followed -him, he assumed a grave air and thoughtfully shaking his head said -that though there was danger, he had hopes of the effect of this -last medicine and one must wait and see, that the malady was chiefly -mental, but... And the countess, trying to conceal the action from -herself and from him, slipped a gold coin into his hand and always -returned to the patient with a more tranquil mind. - -The symptoms of Natasha's illness were that she ate little, slept -little, coughed, and was always low-spirited. The doctors said that -she could not get on without medical treatment, so they kept her in -the stifling atmosphere of the town, and the Rostovs did not move to -the country that summer of 1812. - -In spite of the many pills she swallowed and the drops and powders -out of the little bottles and boxes of which Madame Schoss who was -fond of such things made a large collection, and in spite of being -deprived of the country life to which she was accustomed, youth -prevailed. Natasha's grief began to be overlaid by the impressions -of daily life, it ceased to press so painfully on her heart, it -gradually faded into the past, and she began to recover physically. - -CHAPTER XVII - -Natasha was calmer but no happier. She not merely avoided all -external forms of pleasure- balls, promenades, concerts, and theaters- -but she never laughed without a sound of tears in her laughter. She -could not sing. As soon as she began to laugh, or tried to sing by -herself, tears choked her: tears of remorse, tears at the recollection -of those pure times which could never return, tears of vexation that -she should so uselessly have ruined her young life which might have -been so happy. Laughter and singing in particular seemed to her like a -blasphemy, in face of her sorrow. Without any need of -self-restraint, no wish to coquet ever entered her head. She said -and felt at that time that no man was more to her than Nastasya -Ivanovna, the buffoon. Something stood sentinel within her and forbade -her every joy. Besides, she had lost all the old interests of her -carefree girlish life that had been so full of hope. The previous -autumn, the hunting, "Uncle," and the Christmas holidays spent with -Nicholas at Otradnoe were what she recalled oftenest and most -painfully. What would she not have given to bring back even a single -day of that time! But it was gone forever. Her presentiment at the -time had not deceived her- that that state of freedom and readiness -for any enjoyment would not return again. Yet it was necessary to live -on. - -It comforted her to reflect that she was not better as she had -formerly imagined, but worse, much worse, than anybody else in the -world. But this was not enough. She knew that, and asked herself, -"What next?" But there was nothing to come. There was no joy in -life, yet life was passing. Natasha apparently tried not to be a -burden or a hindrance to anyone, but wanted nothing for herself. She -kept away from everyone in the house and felt at ease only with her -brother Petya. She liked to be with him better than with the others, -and when alone with him she sometimes laughed. She hardly ever left -the house and of those who came to see them was glad to see only one -person, Pierre. It would have been impossible to treat her with more -delicacy, greater care, and at the same time more seriously than did -Count Bezukhov. Natasha unconsciously felt this delicacy and so -found great pleasure in his society. But she was not even grateful -to him for it; nothing good on Pierre's part seemed to her to be an -effort, it seemed so natural for him to be kind to everyone that there -was no merit in his kindness. Sometimes Natasha noticed -embarrassment and awkwardness on his part in her presence, -especially when he wanted to do something to please her, or feared -that something they spoke of would awaken memories distressing to her. -She noticed this and attributed it to his general kindness and -shyness, which she imagined must be the same toward everyone as it was -to her. After those involuntary words- that if he were free he would -have asked on his knees for her hand and her love- uttered at a moment -when she was so strongly agitated, Pierre never spoke to Natasha of -his feelings; and it seemed plain to her that those words, which had -then so comforted her, were spoken as all sorts of meaningless words -are spoken to comfort a crying child. It was not because Pierre was -a married man, but because Natasha felt very strongly with him that -moral barrier the absence of which she had experienced with Kuragin -that it never entered her head that the relations between him and -herself could lead to love on her part, still less on his, or even -to the kind of tender, self-conscious, romantic friendship between a -man and a woman of which she had known several instances. - -Before the end of the fast of St. Peter, Agrafena Ivanovna Belova, a -country neighbor of the Rostovs, came to Moscow to pay her devotions -at the shrines of the Moscow saints. She suggested that Natasha should -fast and prepare for Holy Communion, and Natasha gladly welcomed the -idea. Despite the doctor's orders that she should not go out early -in the morning, Natasha insisted on fasting and preparing for the -sacrament, not as they generally prepared for it in the Rostov -family by attending three services in their own house, but as Agrafena -Ivanovna did, by going to church every day for a week and not once -missing Vespers, Matins, or Mass. - -The countess was pleased with Natasha's zeal; after the poor results -of the medical treatment, in the depths of her heart she hoped that -prayer might help her daughter more than medicines and, though not -without fear and concealing it from the doctor, she agreed to -Natasha's wish and entrusted her to Belova. Agrafena Ivanovna used -to come to wake Natasha at three in the morning, but generally found -her already awake. She was afraid of being late for Matins. Hastily -washing, and meekly putting on her shabbiest dress and an old -mantilla, Natasha, shivering in the fresh air, went out into the -deserted streets lit by the clear light of dawn. By Agrafena -Ivanovna's advice Natasha prepared herself not in their own parish, -but at a church where, according to the devout Agrafena Ivanovna, -the priest was a man of very severe and lofty life. There were never -many people in the church; Natasha always stood beside Belova in the -customary place before an icon of the Blessed Virgin, let into the -screen before the choir on the left side, and a feeling, new to her, -of humility before something great and incomprehensible, seized her -when at that unusual morning hour, gazing at the dark face of the -Virgin illuminated by the candles burning before it and by the morning -light falling from the window, she listened to the words of the -service which she tried to follow with understanding. When she -understood them her personal feeling became interwoven in the -prayers with shades of its own. When she did not understand, it was -sweeter still to think that the wish to understand everything is -pride, that it is impossible to understand all, that it is only -necessary to believe and to commit oneself to God, whom she felt -guiding her soul at those moments. She crossed herself, bowed low, and -when she did not understand, in horror at her own vileness, simply -asked God to forgive her everything, everything, to have mercy upon -her. The prayers to which she surrendered herself most of all were -those of repentance. On her way home at an early hour when she met -no one but bricklayers going to work or men sweeping the street, and -everybody within the houses was still asleep, Natasha experienced a -feeling new to her, a sense of the possibility of correcting her -faults, the possibility of a new, clean life, and of happiness. - -During the whole week she spent in this way, that feeling grew every -day. And the happiness of taking communion, or "communing" as Agrafena -Ivanovna, joyously playing with the word, called it, seemed to Natasha -so great that she felt she should never live till that blessed Sunday. - -But the happy day came, and on that memorable Sunday, when, -dressed in white muslin, she returned home after communion, for the -first time for many months she felt calm and not oppressed by the -thought of the life that lay before her. - -The doctor who came to see her that day ordered her to continue -the powders he had prescribed a fortnight previously. - -"She must certainly go on taking them morning and evening," said he, -evidently sincerely satisfied with his success. "Only, please be -particular about it. - -"Be quite easy," he continued playfully, as he adroitly took the -gold coin in his palm. "She will soon be singing and frolicking about. -The last medicine has done her a very great deal of good. She has -freshened up very much." - -The countess, with a cheerful expression on her face, looked down at -her nails and spat a little for luck as she returned to the drawing -room. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -At the beginning of July more and more disquieting reports about the -war began to spread in Moscow; people spoke of an appeal by the -Emperor to the people, and of his coming himself from the army to -Moscow. And as up to the eleventh of July no manifesto or appeal had -been received, exaggerated reports became current about them and about -the position of Russia. It was said that the Emperor was leaving the -army because it was in danger, it was said that Smolensk had -surrendered, that Napoleon had an army of a million and only a miracle -could save Russia. - -On the eleventh of July, which was Saturday, the manifesto was -received but was not yet in print, and Pierre, who was at the -Rostovs', promised to come to dinner next day, Sunday, and bring a -copy of the manifesto and appeal, which he would obtain from Count -Rostopchin. - -That Sunday, the Rostovs went to Mass at the Razumovskis' private -chapel as usual. It was a hot July day. Even at ten o'clock, when -the Rostovs got out of their carriage at the chapel, the sultry air, -the shouts of hawkers, the light and gay summer clothes of the -crowd, the dusty leaves of the trees on the boulevard, the sounds of -the band and the white trousers of a battalion marching to parade, the -rattling of wheels on the cobblestones, and the brilliant, hot -sunshine were all full of that summer languor, that content and -discontent with the present, which is most strongly felt on a -bright, hot day in town. All the Moscow notabilities, all the Rostovs' -acquaintances, were at the Razumovskis' chapel, for, as if expecting -something to happen, many wealthy families who usually left town for -their country estates had not gone away that summer. As Natasha, at -her mother's side, passed through the crowd behind a liveried -footman who cleared the way for them, she heard a young man speaking -about her in too loud a whisper. - -"That's Rostova, the one who..." - -"She's much thinner, but all the same she's pretty!" - -She heard, or thought she heard, the names of Kuragin and Bolkonski. -But she was always imagining that. It always seemed to her that -everyone who looked at her was thinking only of what had happened to -her. With a sinking heart, wretched as she always was now when she -found herself in a crowd, Natasha in her lilac silk dress trimmed with -black lace walked- as women can walk- with the more repose and -stateliness the greater the pain and shame in her soul. She knew for -certain that she was pretty, but this no longer gave her -satisfaction as it used to. On the contrary it tormented her more than -anything else of late, and particularly so on this bright, hot -summer day in town. "It's Sunday again- another week past," she -thought, recalling that she had been here the Sunday before, "and -always the same life that is no life, and the same surroundings in -which it used to be so easy to live. I'm pretty, I'm young, and I know -that now I am good. I used to be bad, but now I know I am good," she -thought, "but yet my best years are slipping by and are no good to -anyone." She stood by her mother's side and exchanged nods with -acquaintances near her. From habit she scrutinized the ladies' -dresses, condemned the bearing of a lady standing close by who was not -crossing herself properly but in a cramped manner, and again she -thought with vexation that she was herself being judged and was -judging others, and suddenly, at the sound of the service, she felt -horrified at her own vileness, horrified that the former purity of her -soul was again lost to her. - -A comely, fresh-looking old man was conducting the service with that -mild solemnity which has so elevating and soothing an effect on the -souls of the worshipers. The gates of the sanctuary screen were -closed, the curtain was slowly drawn, and from behind it a soft -mysterious voice pronounced some words. Tears, the cause of which -she herself did not understand, made Natasha's breast heave, and a -joyous but oppressive feeling agitated her. - -"Teach me what I should do, how to live my life, how I may grow good -forever, forever!" she pleaded. - -The deacon came out onto the raised space before the altar screen -and, holding his thumb extended, drew his long hair from under his -dalmatic and, making the sign of the cross on his breast, began in a -loud and solemn voice to recite the words of the prayer... - -"In peace let us pray unto the Lord." - -"As one community, without distinction of class, without enmity, -united by brotherly love- let us pray!" thought Natasha. - -"For the peace that is from above, and for the salvation of our -souls." - -"For the world of angels and all the spirits who dwell above us," -prayed Natasha. - -When they prayed for the warriors, she thought of her brother and -Denisov. When they prayed for all traveling by land and sea, she -remembered Prince Andrew, prayed for him, and asked God to forgive her -all the wrongs she had done him. When they prayed for those who love -us, she prayed for the members of her own family, her father and -mother and Sonya, realizing for the first time how wrongly she had -acted toward them, and feeling all the strength of her love for -them. When they prayed for those who hate us, she tried to think of -her enemies and people who hated her, in order to pray for them. She -included among her enemies the creditors and all who had business -dealings with her father, and always at the thought of enemies and -those who hated her she remembered Anatole who had done her so much -harm- and though he did not hate her she gladly prayed for him as -for an enemy. Only at prayer did she feel able to think clearly and -calmly of Prince Andrew and Anatole, as men for whom her feelings were -as nothing compared with her awe and devotion to God. When they prayed -for the Imperial family and the Synod, she bowed very low and made the -sign of the cross, saying to herself that even if she did not -understand, still she could not doubt, and at any rate loved the -governing Synod and prayed for it. - -When he had finished the Litany the deacon crossed the stole over -his breast and said, "Let us commit ourselves and our whole lives to -Christ the Lord!" - -"Commit ourselves to God," Natasha inwardly repeated. "Lord God, I -submit myself to Thy will!" she thought. "I want nothing, wish for -nothing; teach me what to do and how to use my will! Take me, take -me!" prayed Natasha, with impatient emotion in her heart, not crossing -herself but letting her slender arms hang down as if expecting some -invisible power at any moment to take her and deliver her from -herself, from her regrets, desires, remorse, hopes, and sins. - -The countess looked round several times at her daughter's softened -face and shining eyes and prayed God to help her. - -Unexpectedly, in the middle of the service, and not in the usual -order Natasha knew so well, the deacon brought out a small stool, -the one he knelt on when praying on Trinity Sunday, and placed it -before the doors of the sanctuary screen. The priest came out with his -purple velvet biretta on his head, adjusted his hair, and knelt down -with an effort. Everybody followed his example and they looked at -one another in surprise. Then came the prayer just received from the -Synod- a prayer for the deliverance of Russia from hostile invasion. - -"Lord God of might, God of our salvation!" began the priest in -that voice, clear, not grandiloquent but mild, in which only the -Slav clergy read and which acts so irresistibly on a Russian heart. - -"Lord God of might, God of our salvation! Look this day in mercy and -blessing on Thy humble people, and graciously hear us, spare us, and -have mercy upon us! This foe confounding Thy land, desiring to lay -waste the whole world, rises against us; these lawless men are -gathered together to overthrow Thy kingdom, to destroy Thy dear -Jerusalem, Thy beloved Russia; to defile Thy temples, to overthrow -Thine altars, and to desecrate our holy shrines. How long, O Lord, how -long shall the wicked triumph? How long shall they wield unlawful -power? - -"Lord God! Hear us when we pray to Thee; strengthen with Thy might -our most gracious sovereign lord, the Emperor Alexander Pavlovich; -be mindful of his uprightness and meekness, reward him according to -his righteousness, and let it preserve us, Thy chosen Israel! Bless -his counsels, his undertakings, and his work; strengthen his kingdom -by Thine almighty hand, and give him victory over his enemy, even as -Thou gavest Moses the victory over Amalek, Gideon over Midian, and -David over Goliath. Preserve his army, put a bow of brass in the hands -of those who have armed themselves in Thy Name, and gird their loins -with strength for the fight. Take up the spear and shield and arise to -help us; confound and put to shame those who have devised evil against -us, may they be before the faces of Thy faithful warriors as dust -before the wind, and may Thy mighty Angel confound them and put them -to flight; may they be ensnared when they know it not, and may the -plots they have laid in secret be turned against them; let them fall -before Thy servants' feet and be laid low by our hosts! Lord, Thou art -able to save both great and small; Thou art God, and man cannot -prevail against Thee! - -"God of our fathers! Remember Thy bounteous mercy and -loving-kindness which are from of old; turn not Thy face from us, -but be gracious to our unworthiness, and in Thy great goodness and Thy -many mercies regard not our transgressions and iniquities! Create in -us a clean heart and renew a right spirit within us, strengthen us all -in Thy faith, fortify our hope, inspire us with true love one for -another, arm us with unity of spirit in the righteous defense of the -heritage Thou gavest to us and to our fathers, and let not the scepter -of the wicked be exalted against the destiny of those Thou hast -sanctified. - -"O Lord our God, in whom we believe and in whom we put our trust, -let us not be confounded in our hope of Thy mercy, and give us a token -of Thy blessing, that those who hate us and our Orthodox faith may see -it and be put to shame and perish, and may all the nations know that -Thou art the Lord and we are Thy people. Show Thy mercy upon us this -day, O Lord, and grant us Thy salvation; make the hearts of Thy -servants to rejoice in Thy mercy; smite down our enemies and destroy -them swiftly beneath the feet of Thy faithful servants! For Thou art -the defense, the succor, and the victory of them that put their -trust in Thee, and to Thee be all glory, to Father, Son, and Holy -Ghost, now and forever, world without end. Amen." - -In Natasha's receptive condition of soul this prayer affected her -strongly. She listened to every word about the victory of Moses over -Amalek, of Gideon over Midian, and of David over Goliath, and about -the destruction of "Thy Jerusalem," and she prayed to God with the -tenderness and emotion with which her heart was overflowing, but -without fully understanding what she was asking of God in that prayer. -She shared with all her heart in the prayer for the spirit of -righteousness, for the strengthening of the heart by faith and hope, -and its animation by love. But she could not pray that her enemies -might be trampled under foot when but a few minutes before she had -been wishing she had more of them that she might pray for them. But -neither could she doubt the righteousness of the prayer that was being -read on bended knees. She felt in her heart a devout and tremulous awe -at the thought of the punishment that overtakes men for their sins, -and especially of her own sins, and she prayed to God to forgive -them all, and her too, and to give them all, and her too, peace and -happiness. And it seemed to her that God heard her prayer. - -CHAPTER XIX - -From the day when Pierre, after leaving the Rostovs' with -Natasha's grateful look fresh in his mind, had gazed at the comet that -seemed to be fixed in the sky and felt that something new was -appearing on his own horizon- from that day the problem of the -vanity and uselessness of all earthly things, that had incessantly -tormented him, no longer presented itself. That terrible question -"Why?" "Wherefore?" which had come to him amid every occupation, was -now replaced, not by another question or by a reply to the former -question, but by her image. When he listened to, or himself took -part in, trivial conversations, when he read or heard of human -baseness or folly, he was not horrified as formerly, and did not ask -himself why men struggled so about these things when all is so -transient and incomprehensible- but he remembered her as he had last -seen her, and all his doubts vanished- not because she had answered -the questions that had haunted him, but because his conception of -her transferred him instantly to another, a brighter, realm of -spiritual activity in which no one could be justified or guilty- a -realm of beauty and love which it was worth living for. Whatever -worldly baseness presented itself to him, he said to himself: - -"Well, supposing N. N. swindled the country and the Tsar, and the -country and the Tsar confer honors upon him, what does that matter? -She smiled at me yesterday and asked me to come again, and I love her, -and no one will ever know it." And his soul felt calm and peaceful. - -Pierre still went into society, drank as much and led the same -idle and dissipated life, because besides the hours he spent at the -Rostovs' there were other hours he had to spend somehow, and the -habits and acquaintances he had made in Moscow formed a current that -bore him along irresistibly. But latterly, when more and more -disquieting reports came from the seat of war and Natasha's health -began to improve and she no longer aroused in him the former feeling -of careful pity, an ever-increasing restlessness, which he could not -explain, took possession of him. He felt that the condition he was -in could not continue long, that a catastrophe was coming which -would change his whole life, and he impatiently sought everywhere -for signs of that approaching catastrophe. One of his brother Masons -had revealed to Pierre the following prophecy concerning Napoleon, -drawn from the Revelation of St. John. - -In chapter 13, verse 18, of the Apocalypse, it is said: - -Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number -of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six -hundred threescore and six. - -And in the fifth verse of the same chapter: - -And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and -blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two -months. - -The French alphabet, written out with the same numerical values as -the Hebrew, in which the first nine letters denote units and the -others tens, will have the following significance: - -``` block - a b c d e f g h i k - 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 - l m n o p q r s - 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 - t u v w x y - 100 110 120 130 140 150 - z - 160 -``` - -Writing the words L'Empereur Napoleon in numbers, it appears that -the sum of them is 666, and that Napoleon therefore the beast foretold -in the Apocalypse. Moreover, by applying the same system to the -words quarante-deux,~{ Forty-two. }~ which was the term allowed to the beast that -"spoke great things and blasphemies," the same number 666 was -obtained; from which it followed that the limit fixed for Napoleon's -power had come in the year 1812 when the French emperor was forty-two. -This prophecy pleased Pierre very much and he often asked himself what -would put an end to the power of the beast, that is, of Napoleon, -and tried by the same system of using letters as numbers and adding -them up, to find an answer to the question that engrossed him. He -wrote the words L'Empereur Alexandre, La nation russe and added up -their numbers, but the sums were either more or less than 666. Once -when making such calculations he wrote down his own name in French, -Comte Pierre Besouhoff, but the sum of the numbers did not come right. -Then he changed the spelling, substituting a z for the s and adding de -and the article le, still without obtaining the desired result. Then -it occurred to him: if the answer to the question were contained in -his name, his nationality would also be given in the answer. So he -wrote Le russe Besuhof and adding up the numbers got 671. This was -only five too much, and five was represented by e, the very letter -elided from the article le before the word Empereur. By omitting the -e, though incorrectly, Pierre got the answer he sought. L'russe -Besuhof made 666. This discovery excited him. How, or by what means, -he was connected with the great event foretold in the Apocalypse he -did not know, but he did not doubt that connection for a moment. His -love for Natasha, Antichrist, Napoleon, the invasion, the comet, -666, L'Empereur Napoleon, and L'russe Besuhof- all this had to -mature and culminate, to lift him out of that spellbound, petty sphere -of Moscow habits in which he felt himself held captive and lead him to -a great achievement and great happiness. - -On the eve of the Sunday when the special prayer was read, Pierre -had promised the Rostovs to bring them, from Count Rostopchin whom -he knew well, both the appeal to the people and the news from the -army. In the morning, when he went to call at Rostopchin's he met -there a courier fresh from the army, an acquaintance of his own, who -often danced at Moscow balls. - -"Do, please, for heaven's sake, relieve me of something!" said the -courier. "I have a sackful of letters to parents." - -Among these letters was one from Nicholas Rostov to his father. -Pierre took that letter, and Rostopchin also gave him the Emperor's -appeal to Moscow, which had just been printed, the last army orders, -and his own most recent bulletin. Glancing through the army orders, -Pierre found in one of them, in the lists of killed, wounded, and -rewarded, the name of Nicholas Rostov, awarded a St. George's Cross of -the Fourth Class for courage shown in the Ostrovna affair, and in -the same order the name of Prince Andrew Bolkonski, appointed to the -command of a regiment of Chasseurs. Though he did not want to remind -the Rostovs of Bolkonski, Pierre could not refrain from making them -happy by the news of their son's having received a decoration, so he -sent that printed army order and Nicholas' letter to the Rostovs, -keeping the appeal, the bulletin, and the other orders to take with -him when he went to dinner. - -His conversation with Count Rostopchin and the latter's tone of -anxious hurry, the meeting with the courier who talked casually of how -badly things were going in the army, the rumors of the discovery of -spies in Moscow and of a leaflet in circulation stating that -Napoleon promised to be in both the Russian capitals by the autumn, -and the talk of the Emperor's being expected to arrive next day- all -aroused with fresh force that feeling of agitation and expectation -in Pierre which he had been conscious of ever since the appearance -of the comet, and especially since the beginning of the war. - -He had long been thinking of entering the army and would have done -so had he not been hindered, first, by his membership of the Society -of Freemasons to which he was bound by oath and which preached -perpetual peace and the abolition of war, and secondly, by the fact -that when he saw the great mass of Muscovites who had donned uniform -and were talking patriotism, he somehow felt ashamed to take the step. -But the chief reason for not carrying out his intention to enter the -army lay in the vague idea that he was L'russe Besuhof who had the -number of the beast, 666; that his part in the great affair of setting -a limit to the power of the beast that spoke great and blasphemous -things had been predestined from eternity, and that therefore he ought -not to undertake anything, but wait for what was bound to come to -pass. - -CHAPTER XX - -A few intimate friends were dining with the Rostovs that day, as -usual on Sundays. - -Pierre came early so as to find them alone. - -He had grown so stout this year that he would have been abnormal had -he not been so tall, so broad of limb, and so strong that he carried -his bulk with evident ease. - -He went up the stairs, puffing and muttering something. His coachman -did not even ask whether he was to wait. He knew that when his -master was at the Rostovs' he stayed till midnight. The Rostovs' -footman rushed eagerly forward to help him off with his cloak and take -his hat and stick. Pierre, from club habit, always left both hat and -stick in the anteroom. - -The first person he saw in the house was Natasha. Even before he saw -her, while taking off his cloak, he heard her. She was practicing -solfa exercises in the music room. He knew that she had not sung since -her illness, and so the sound of her voice surprised and delighted -him. He opened the door softly and saw her, in the lilac dress she had -worn at church, walking about the room singing. She had her back to -him when he opened the door, but when, turning quickly, she saw his -broad, surprised face, she blushed and came rapidly up to him. - -"I want to try to sing again," she said, adding as if by way of -excuse, "it is, at least, something to do." - -"That's capital!" - -"How glad I am you've come! I am so happy today," she said, with the -old animation Pierre had not seen in her for along time. "You know -Nicholas has received a St. George's Cross? I am so proud of him." - -"Oh yes, I sent that announcement. But I don't want to interrupt -you," he added, and was about to go to the drawing room. - -Natasha stopped him. - -"Count, is it wrong of me to sing?" she said blushing, and fixing -her eyes inquiringly on him. - -"No... Why should it be? On the contrary... But why do you ask me?" - -"I don't know myself," Natasha answered quickly, "but I should not -like to do anything you disapproved of. I believe in you completely. -You don't know how important you are to me, how much you've done for -me...." She spoke rapidly and did not notice how Pierre flushed at her -words. "I saw in that same army order that he, Bolkonski" (she -whispered the name hastily), "is in Russia, and in the army again. -What do you think?"- she was speaking hurriedly, evidently afraid -her strength might fail her- "Will he ever forgive me? Will he not -always have a bitter feeling toward me? What do you think? What do you -think?" - -"I think..." Pierre replied, "that he has nothing to forgive.... -If I were in his place..." - -By association of ideas, Pierre was at once carried back to the -day when, trying to comfort her, he had said that if he were not -himself but the best man in the world and free, he would ask on his -knees for her hand; and the same feeling of pity, tenderness, and love -took possession of him and the same words rose to his lips. But she -did not give him time to say them. - -"Yes, you... you..." she said, uttering the word you rapturously- -"that's a different thing. I know no one kinder, more generous, or -better than you; nobody could be! Had you not been there then, and now -too, I don't know what would have become of me, because..." - -Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, she turned away, lifted her music -before her eyes, began singing again, and again began walking up and -down the room. - -Just then Petya came running in from the drawing room. - -Petya was now a handsome rosy lad of fifteen with full red lips -and resembled Natasha. He was preparing to enter the university, but -he and his friend Obolenski had lately, in secret, agreed to join -the hussars. - -Petya had come rushing out to talk to his namesake about this -affair. He had asked Pierre to find out whether he would be accepted -in the hussars. - -Pierre walked up and down the drawing room, not listening to what -Petya was saying. - -Petya pulled him by the arm to attract his attention. - -"Well, what about my plan? Peter Kirilych, for heaven's sake! You -are my only hope " said Petya. - -"Oh yes, your plan. To join the hussars? I'll mention it, I'll bring -it all up today." - -"Well, mon cher, have you got the manifesto?" asked the old count. -"The countess has been to Mass at the Razumovskis' and heard the new -prayer. She says it's very fine." - -"Yes, I've got it," said Pierre. "The Emperor is to be here -tomorrow... there's to be an Extraordinary Meeting of the nobility, -and they are talking of a levy of ten men per thousand. Oh yes, let me -congratulate you!" - -"Yes, yes, thank God! Well, and what news from the army?" - -"We are again retreating. They say we're already near Smolensk," -replied Pierre. - -"O Lord, O Lord!" exclaimed the count. "Where is the manifesto?" - -"The Emperor's appeal? Oh yes!" - -Pierre began feeling in his pockets for the papers, but could not -find them. Still slapping his pockets, he kissed the hand of the -countess who entered the room and glanced uneasily around, evidently -expecting Natasha, who had left off singing but had not yet come -into the drawing room. - -"On my word, I don't know what I've done with it," he said. - -"There he is, always losing everything!" remarked the countess. - -Natasha entered with a softened and agitated expression of face -and sat down looking silently at Pierre. As soon as she entered, -Pierre's features, which had been gloomy, suddenly lighted up, and -while still searching for the papers he glanced at her several times. - -"No, really! I'll drive home, I must have left them there. I'll -certainly..." - -"But you'll be late for dinner." - -"Oh! And my coachman has gone." - -But Sonya, who had gone to look for the papers in the anteroom, -had found them in Pierre's hat, where he had carefully tucked them -under the lining. Pierre was about to begin reading. - -"No, after dinner," said the old count, evidently expecting much -enjoyment from that reading. - -At dinner, at which champagne was drunk to the health of the new -chevalier of St. George, Shinshin told them the town news, of the -illness of the old Georgian princess, of Metivier's disappearance from -Moscow, and of how some German fellow had been brought to Rostopchin -and accused of being a French "spyer" (so Count Rostopchin had told -the story), and how Rostopchin let him go and assured the people -that he was "not a spire at all, but only an old German ruin." - -"People are being arrested..." said the count. "I've told the -countess she should not speak French so much. It's not the time for it -now." - -"And have you heard?" Shinshin asked. "Prince Golitsyn has engaged a -master to teach him Russian. It is becoming dangerous to speak -French in the streets." - -"And how about you, Count Peter Kirilych? If they call up the -militia, you too will have to mount a horse," remarked the old -count, addressing Pierre. - -Pierre had been silent and preoccupied all through dinner, seeming -not to grasp what was said. He looked at the count. - -"Oh yes, the war," he said. "No! What sort of warrior should I make? -And yet everything is so strange, so strange! I can't make it out. I -don't know, I am very far from having military tastes, but in these -times no one can answer for himself." - -After dinner the count settled himself comfortably in an easy -chair and with a serious face asked Sonya, who was considered an -excellent reader, to read the appeal. - -"To Moscow, our ancient Capital! - -"The enemy has entered the borders of Russia with immense forces. He -comes to despoil our beloved country," - -Sonya read painstakingly in her high-pitched voice. The count -listened with closed eyes, heaving abrupt sighs at certain passages. - -Natasha sat erect, gazing with a searching look now at her father -and now at Pierre. - -Pierre felt her eyes on him and tried not to look round. The -countess shook her head disapprovingly and angrily at every solemn -expression in the manifesto. In all these words she saw only that -the danger threatening her son would not soon be over. Shinshin, -with a sarcastic smile on his lips, was evidently preparing to make -fun of anything that gave him the opportunity: Sonya's reading, any -remark of the count's, or even the manifesto itself should no better -pretext present itself. - -After reading about the dangers that threatened Russia, the hopes -the Emperor placed on Moscow and especially on its illustrious -nobility, Sonya, with a quiver in her voice due chiefly to the -attention that was being paid to her, read the last words: - -"We ourselves will not delay to appear among our people in that -Capital and in others parts of our realm for consultation, and for the -direction of all our levies, both those now barring the enemy's path -and those freshly formed to defeat him wherever he may appear. May the -ruin he hopes to bring upon us recoil on his own head, and may -Europe delivered from bondage glorify the name of Russia!" - -"Yes, that's it!" cried the count, opening his moist eyes and -sniffing repeatedly, as if a strong vinaigrette had been held to his -nose; and he added, "Let the Emperor but say the word and we'll -sacrifice everything and begrudge nothing." - -Before Shinshin had time to utter the joke he was ready to make on -the count's patriotism, Natasha jumped up from her place and ran to -her father. - -"What a darling our Papa is!" she cried, kissing him, and she -again looked at Pierre with the unconscious coquetry that had returned -to her with her better spirits. - -"There! Here's a patriot for you!" said Shinshin. - -"Not a patriot at all, but simply..." Natasha replied in an -injured tone. "Everything seems funny to you, but this isn't at all -a joke...." - -"A joke indeed!" put in the count. "Let him but say the word and -we'll all go.... We're not Germans!" - -"But did you notice, it says, 'for consultation'?" said Pierre. - -"Never mind what it's for...." - -At this moment, Petya, to whom nobody was paying any attention, came -up to his father with a very flushed face and said in his breaking -voice that was now deep and now shrill: - -"Well, Papa, I tell you definitely, and Mamma too, it's as you -please, but I say definitely that you must let me enter the army, -because I can't... that's all...." - -The countess, in dismay, looked up to heaven, clasped her hands, and -turned angrily to her husband. - -"That comes of your talking!" said she. - -But the count had already recovered from his excitement. - -"Come, come!" said he. "Here's a fine warrior! No! Nonsense! You -must study." - -"It's not nonsense, Papa. Fedya Obolenski is younger than I, and -he's going too. Besides, all the same I can't study now when..." Petya -stopped short, flushed till he perspired, but still got out the words, -"when our Fatherland is in danger." - -"That'll do, that'll do- nonsense...." - -"But you said yourself that we would sacrifice everything." - -"Petya! Be quiet, I tell you!" cried the count, with a glance at his -wife, who had turned pale and was staring fixedly at her son. - -"And I tell you- Peter Kirilych here will also tell you..." - -"Nonsense, I tell you. Your mother's milk has hardly dried on your -lips and you want to go into the army! There, there, I tell you," -and the count moved to go out of the room, taking the papers, probably -to reread them in his study before having a nap. - -"Well, Peter Kirilych, let's go and have a smoke," he said. - -Pierre was agitated and undecided. Natasha's unwontedly brilliant -eyes, continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had -reduced him to this condition. - -"No, I think I'll go home." - -"Home? Why, you meant to spend the evening with us.... You don't -often come nowadays as it is, and this girl of mine," said the count -good-naturedly, pointing to Natasha, "only brightens up when you're -here." - -"Yes, I had forgotten... I really must go home... business..." -said Pierre hurriedly. - -"Well, then, au revoir!" said the count, and went out of the room. - -"Why are you going? Why are you upset?" asked Natasha, and she -looked challengingly into Pierre's eyes. - -"Because I love you!" was what he wanted to say, but he did not -say it, and only blushed till the tears came, and lowered his eyes. - -"Because it is better for me to come less often... because... No, -simply I have business...." - -"Why? No, tell me!" Natasha began resolutely and suddenly stopped. - -They looked at each other with dismayed and embarrassed faces. He -tried to smile but could not: his smile expressed suffering, and he -silently kissed her hand and went out. - -Pierre made up his mind not to go to the Rostovs' any more. - -CHAPTER XXI - -After the definite refusal he had received, Petya went to his room -and there locked himself in and wept bitterly. When he came in to tea, -silent, morose, and with tear-stained face, everybody pretended not to -notice anything. - -Next day the Emperor arrived in Moscow, and several of the -Rostovs' domestic serfs begged permission to go to have a look at him. -That morning Petya was a long time dressing and arranging his hair and -collar to look like a grown-up man. He frowned before his looking -glass, gesticulated, shrugged his shoulders, and finally, without -saying a word to anyone, took his cap and left the house by the back -door, trying to avoid notice. Petya decided to go straight to where -the Emperor was and to explain frankly to some gentleman-in-waiting -(he imagined the Emperor to be always surrounded by -gentlemen-in-waiting) that he, Count Rostov, in spite of his youth -wished to serve his country; that youth could be no hindrance to -loyalty, and that he was ready to... While dressing, Petya had -prepared many fine things he meant to say to the gentleman-in-waiting. - -It was on the very fact of being so young that Petya counted for -success in reaching the Emperor- he even thought how surprised -everyone would be at his youthfulness- and yet in the arrangement of -his collar and hair and by his sedate deliberate walk he wished to -appear a grown-up man. But the farther he went and the more his -attention was diverted by the ever-increasing crowds moving toward the -Kremlin, the less he remembered to walk with the sedateness and -deliberation of a man. As he approached the Kremlin he even began to -avoid being crushed and resolutely stuck out his elbows in a -menacing way. But within the Trinity Gateway he was so pressed to -the wall by people who probably were unaware of the patriotic -intentions with which he had come that in spite of all his -determination he had to give in, and stop while carriages passed in, -rumbling beneath the archway. Beside Petya stood a peasant woman, a -footman, two tradesmen, and a discharged soldier. After standing -some time in the gateway, Petya tried to move forward in front of -the others without waiting for all the carriages to pass, and he began -resolutely working his way with his elbows, but the woman just in -front of him, who was the first against whom he directed his -efforts, angrily shouted at him: - -"What are you shoving for, young lordling? Don't you see we're all -standing still? Then why push?" - -"Anybody can shove," said the footman, and also began working his -elbows to such effect that he pushed Petya into a very filthy corner -of the gateway. - -Petya wiped his perspiring face with his hands and pulled up the -damp collar which he had arranged so well at home to seem like a -man's. - -He felt that he no longer looked presentable, and feared that if -he were now to approach the gentlemen-in-waiting in that plight he -would not be admitted to the Emperor. But it was impossible to smarten -oneself up or move to another place, because of the crowd. One of -the generals who drove past was an acquaintance of the Rostovs', and -Petya thought of asking his help, but came to the conclusion that that -would not be a manly thing to do. When the carriages had all passed -in, the crowd, carrying Petya with it, streamed forward into the -Kremlin Square which was already full of people. There were people not -only in the square, but everywhere- on the slopes and on the roofs. As -soon as Petya found himself in the square he clearly heard the sound -of bells and the joyous voices of the crowd that filled the whole -Kremlin. - -For a while the crowd was less dense, but suddenly all heads were -bared, and everyone rushed forward in one direction. Petya was being -pressed so that he could scarcely breathe, and everybody shouted, -"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" Petya stood on tiptoe and pushed and -pinched, but could see nothing except the people about him. - -All the faces bore the same expression of excitement and enthusiasm. -A tradesman's wife standing beside Petya sobbed, and the tears ran -down her cheeks. - -"Father! Angel! Dear one!" she kept repeating, wiping away her tears -with her fingers. - -"Hurrah!" was heard on all sides. - -For a moment the crowd stood still, but then it made another rush -forward. - -Quite beside himself, Petya, clinching his teeth and rolling his -eyes ferociously, pushed forward, elbowing his way and shouting -"hurrah!" as if he were prepared that instant to kill himself and -everyone else, but on both sides of him other people with similarly -ferocious faces pushed forward and everybody shouted "hurrah!" - -"So this is what the Emperor is!" thought Petya. "No, I can't -petition him myself- that would be too bold." But in spite of this -he continued to struggle desperately forward, and from between the -backs of those in front he caught glimpses of an open space with a -strip of red cloth spread out on it; but just then the crowd swayed -back- the police in front were pushing back those who had pressed -too close to the procession: the Emperor was passing from the palace -to the Cathedral of the Assumption- and Petya unexpectedly received -such a blow on his side and ribs and was squeezed so hard that -suddenly everything grew dim before his eyes and he lost -consciousness. When he came to himself, a man of clerical appearance -with a tuft of gray hair at the back of his head and wearing a -shabby blue cassock- probably a church clerk and chanter- was -holding him under the arm with one hand while warding off the pressure -of the crowd with the other. - -"You've crushed the young gentleman!" said the clerk. "What are -you up to? Gently!... They've crushed him, crushed him!" - -The Emperor entered the Cathedral of the Assumption. The crowd -spread out again more evenly, and the clerk led Petya- pale and -breathless- to the Tsar-cannon. Several people were sorry for Petya, -and suddenly a crowd turned toward him and pressed round him. Those -who stood nearest him attended to him, unbuttoned his coat, seated him -on the raised platform of the cannon, and reproached those others -(whoever they might be) who had crushed him. - -"One might easily get killed that way! What do they mean by it? -Killing people! Poor dear, he's as white as a sheet!"- various -voices were heard saying. - -Petya soon came to himself, the color returned to his face, the pain -had passed, and at the cost of that temporary unpleasantness he had -obtained a place by the cannon from where he hoped to see the -Emperor who would be returning that way. Petya no longer thought of -presenting his petition. If he could only see the Emperor he would -be happy! - -While the service was proceeding in the Cathedral of the Assumption- -it was a combined service of prayer on the occasion of the Emperor's -arrival and of thanksgiving for the conclusion of peace with the -Turks- the crowd outside spread out and hawkers appeared, selling -kvas, gingerbread, and poppyseed sweets (of which Petya was -particularly fond), and ordinary conversation could again be heard. -A tradesman's wife was showing a rent in her shawl and telling how -much the shawl had cost; another was saying that all silk goods had -now got dear. The clerk who had rescued Petya was talking to a -functionary about the priests who were officiating that day with the -bishop. The clerk several times used the word "plenary" (of the -service), a word Petya did not understand. Two young citizens were -joking with some serf girls who were cracking nuts. All these -conversations, especially the joking with the girls, were such as -might have had a particular charm for Petya at his age, but they did -not interest him now. He sat on his elevation- the pedestal of the -cannon- still agitated as before by the thought of the Emperor and -by his love for him. The feeling of pain and fear he had experienced -when he was being crushed, together with that of rapture, still -further intensified his sense of the importance of the occasion. - -Suddenly the sound of a firing of cannon was heard from the -embankment, to celebrate the signing of peace with the Turks, and -the crowd rushed impetuously toward the embankment to watch the -firing. Petya too would have run there, but the clerk who had taken -the young gentleman under his protection stopped him. The firing was -still proceeding when officers, generals, and gentlemen-in-waiting -came running out of the cathedral, and after them others in a more -leisurely manner: caps were again raised, and those who had run to -look at the cannon ran back again. At last four men in uniforms and -sashes emerged from the cathedral doors. "Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the -crowd again. - -"Which is he? Which?" asked Petya in a tearful voice, of those -around him, but no one answered him, everybody was too excited; and -Petya, fixing on one of those four men, whom he could not clearly -see for the tears of joy that filled his eyes, concentrated all his -enthusiasm on him- though it happened not to be the Emperor- -frantically shouted "Hurrah!" and resolved that tomorrow, come what -might, he would join the army. - -The crowd ran after the Emperor, followed him to the palace, and -began to disperse. It was already late, and Petya had not eaten -anything and was drenched with perspiration, yet he did not go home -but stood with that diminishing, but still considerable, crowd -before the palace while the Emperor dined- looking in at the palace -windows, expecting he knew not what, and envying alike the notables he -saw arriving at the entrance to dine with the Emperor and the court -footmen who served at table, glimpses of whom could be seen through -the windows. - -While the Emperor was dining, Valuev, looking out of the window, -said: - -"The people are still hoping to see Your Majesty again." - -The dinner was nearly over, and the Emperor, munching a biscuit, -rose and went out onto the balcony. The people, with Petya among them, -rushed toward the balcony. - -"Angel! Dear one! Hurrah! Father!..." cried the crowd, and Petya -with it, and again the women and men of weaker mold, Petya among them, -wept with joy. - -A largish piece of the biscuit the Emperor was holding in his hand -broke off, fell on the balcony parapet, and then to the ground. A -coachman in a jerkin, who stood nearest, sprang forward and snatched -it up. Several people in the crowd rushed at the coachman. Seeing this -the Emperor had a plateful of biscuits brought him and began -throwing them down from the balcony. Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, -and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed at -the biscuits. He did not know why, but he had to have a biscuit from -the Tsar's hand and he felt that he must not give way. He sprang -forward and upset an old woman who was catching at a biscuit; the -old woman did not consider herself defeated though she was lying on -the ground- she grabbed at some biscuits but her hand did not reach -them. Petya pushed her hand away with his knee, seized a biscuit, -and as if fearing to be too late, again shouted "Hurrah!" with a voice -already hoarse. - -The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowd -began to disperse. - -"There! I said if only we waited- and so it was!" was being joyfully -said by various people. - -Happy as Petya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing that -all the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight home -from the Kremlin, but called on his friend Obolenski, who was -fifteen and was also entering the regiment. On returning home Petya -announced resolutely and firmly that if he was not allowed to enter -the service he would run away. And next day, Count Ilya Rostov- though -he had not yet quite yielded- went to inquire how he could arrange for -Petya to serve where there would be least danger. - -CHAPTER XXII - -Two days later, on the fifteenth of July, an immense number of -carriages were standing outside the Sloboda Palace. - -The great halls were full. In the first were the nobility and gentry -in their uniforms, in the second bearded merchants in full-skirted -coats of blue cloth and wearing medals. in the noblemen's hall there -was an incessant movement and buzz of voices. The chief magnates sat -on high-backed chairs at a large table under the portrait of the -Emperor, but most of the gentry were strolling about the room. - -All these nobles, whom Pierre met every day at the Club or in -their own houses, were in uniform- some in that of Catherine's day, -others in that of Emperor Paul, others again in the new uniforms of -Alexander's time or the ordinary uniform of the nobility, and the -general characteristic of being in uniform imparted something -strange and fantastic to these diverse and familiar personalities, -both old and young. The old men, dim-eyed, toothless, bald, sallow, -and bloated, or gaunt and wrinkled, were especially striking. For -the most part they sat quietly in their places and were silent, or, if -they walked about and talked, attached themselves to someone -younger. On all these faces, as on the faces of the crowd Petya had -seen in the Square, there was a striking contradiction: the general -expectation of a solemn event, and at the same time the everyday -interests in a boston card party, Peter the cook, Zinaida Dmitrievna's -health, and so on. - -Pierre was there too, buttoned up since early morning in a -nobleman's uniform that had become too tight for him. He was agitated; -this extraordinary gathering not only of nobles but also of the -merchant-class- les etats generaux (States-General)- evoked in him a -whole series of ideas he had long laid aside but which were deeply -graven in his soul: thoughts of the Contrat social and the French -Revolution. The words that had struck him in the Emperor's appeal- -that the sovereign was coming to the capital for consultation with his -people- strengthened this idea. And imagining that in this direction -something important which he had long awaited was drawing near, he -strolled about watching and listening to conversations, but nowhere -finding any confirmation of the ideas that occupied him. - -The Emperor's manifesto was read, evoking enthusiasm, and then all -moved about discussing it. Besides the ordinary topics of -conversation, Pierre heard questions of where the marshals of the -nobility were to stand when the Emperor entered, when a ball should be -given in the Emperor's honor, whether they should group themselves -by districts or by whole provinces... and so on; but as soon as the -war was touched on, or what the nobility had been convened for, the -talk became undecided and indefinite. Then all preferred listening -to speaking. - -A middle-aged man, handsome and virile, in the uniform of a -retired naval officer, was speaking in one of the rooms, and a small -crowd was pressing round him. Pierre went up to the circle that had -formed round the speaker and listened. Count Ilya Rostov, in a -military uniform of Catherine's time, was sauntering with a pleasant -smile among the crowd, with all of whom he was acquainted. He too -approached that group and listened with a kindly smile and nods of -approval, as he always did, to what the speaker was saying. The -retired naval man was speaking very boldly, as was evident from the -expression on the faces of the listeners and from the fact that some -people Pierre knew as the meekest and quietest of men walked away -disapprovingly or expressed disagreement with him. Pierre pushed his -way into the middle of the group, listened, and convinced himself that -the man was indeed a liberal, but of views quite different from his -own. The naval officer spoke in a particularly sonorous, musical, -and aristocratic baritone voice, pleasantly swallowing his r's and -generally slurring his consonants: the voice of a man calling out to -his servant, "Heah! Bwing me my pipe!" It was indicative of -dissipation and the exercise of authority. - -"What if the Smolensk people have offahd to waise militia for the -Empewah? Ah we to take Smolensk as our patte'n? If the noble -awistocwacy of the pwovince of Moscow thinks fit, it can show its -loyalty to our sov'weign the Empewah in other ways. Have we -fo'gotten the waising of the militia in the yeah 'seven? All that -did was to enwich the pwiests' sons and thieves and wobbahs...." - -Count Ilya Rostov smiled blandly and nodded approval. - -"And was our militia of any use to the Empia? Not at all! It only -wuined our farming! Bettah have another conscwiption... o' ou' men -will wetu'n neithah soldiers no' peasants, and we'll get only -depwavity fwom them. The nobility don't gwudge theah lives- evewy -one of us will go and bwing in more wecwuits, and the sov'weign" (that -was the way he referred to the Emperor) "need only say the word and -we'll all die fo' him!" added the orator with animation. - -Count Rostov's mouth watered with pleasure and he nudged Pierre, but -Pierre wanted to speak himself. He pushed forward, feeling stirred, -but not yet sure what stirred him or what he would say. Scarcely had -he opened his mouth when one of the senators, a man without a tooth in -his head, with a shrewd though angry expression, standing near the -first speaker, interrupted him. Evidently accustomed to managing -debates and to maintaining an argument, he began in low but distinct -tones: - -"I imagine, sir," said he, mumbling with his toothless mouth, -"that we have been summoned here not to discuss whether it's best -for the empire at the present moment to adopt conscription or to -call out the militia. We have been summoned to reply to the appeal -with which our sovereign the Emperor has honored us. But to judge what -is best- conscription or the militia- we can leave to the supreme -authority...." - -Pierre suddenly saw an outlet for his excitement. He hardened his -heart against the senator who was introducing this set and narrow -attitude into the deliberations of the nobility. Pierre stepped -forward and interrupted him. He himself did not yet know what he would -say, but he began to speak eagerly, occasionally lapsing into French -or expressing himself in bookish Russian. - -"Excuse me, your excellency," he began. (He was well acquainted with -the senator, but thought it necessary on this occasion to address -him formally.) "Though I don't agree with the gentleman..." (he -hesitated: he wished to say, "Mon tres honorable preopinant"- "My very -honorable opponent") "with the gentleman... whom I have not the -honor of knowing, I suppose that the nobility have been summoned not -merely to express their sympathy and enthusiasm but also to consider -the means by which we can assist our Fatherland! I imagine," he went -on, warming to his subject, "that the Emperor himself would not be -satisfied to find in us merely owners of serfs whom we are willing -to devote to his service, and chair a canon~{ "Food for cannon." }~ we are ready to make of -ourselves- and not to obtain from us any co-co-counsel." - -Many persons withdrew from the circle, noticing the senator's -sarcastic smile and the freedom of Pierre's remarks. Only Count Rostov -was pleased with them as he had been pleased with those of the naval -officer, the senator, and in general with whatever speech he had -last heard. - -"I think that before discussing these questions," Pierre -continued, "we should ask the Emperor- most respectfully ask His -Majesty- to let us know the number of our troops and the position in -which our army and our forces now are, and then..." - -But scarcely had Pierre uttered these words before he was attacked -from three sides. The most vigorous attack came from an old -acquaintance, a boston player who had always been well disposed toward -him, Stepan Stepanovich Adraksin. Adraksin was in uniform, and whether -as a result of the uniform or from some other cause Pierre saw -before him quite a different man. With a sudden expression of -malevolence on his aged face, Adraksin shouted at Pierre: - -"In the first place, I tell you we have no right to question the -Emperor about that, and secondly, if the Russian nobility had that -right, the Emperor could not answer such a question. The troops are -moved according to the enemy's movements and the number of men -increases and decreases..." - -Another voice, that of a nobleman of medium height and about forty -years of age, whom Pierre had formerly met at the gypsies' and knew as -a bad cardplayer, and who, also transformed by his uniform, came up to -Pierre, interrupted Adraksin. - -"Yes, and this is not a time for discussing," he continued, "but for -acting: there is war in Russia! The enemy is advancing to destroy -Russia, to desecrate the tombs of our fathers, to carry off our -wives and children." The nobleman smote his breast. "We will all -arise, every one of us will go, for our father the Tsar!" he -shouted, rolling his bloodshot eyes. Several approving voices were -heard in the crowd. "We are Russians and will not grudge our blood -in defense of our faith, the throne, and the Fatherland! We must cease -raving if we are sons of our Fatherland! We will show Europe how -Russia rises to the defense of Russia!" - -Pierre wished to reply, but could not get in a word. He felt that -his words, apart from what meaning they conveyed, were less audible -than the sound of his opponent's voice. - -Count Rostov at the back of the crowd was expressing approval; -several persons, briskly turning a shoulder to the orator at the end -of a phrase, said: - -"That's right, quite right! Just so!" - -Pierre wished to say that he was ready to sacrifice his money, his -serfs, or himself, only one ought to know the state of affairs in -order to be able to improve it, but he was unable to speak. Many -voices shouted and talked at the same time, so that Count Rostov had -not time to signify his approval of them all, and the group increased, -dispersed, re-formed, and then moved with a hum of talk into the -largest hall and to the big table. Not only was Pierre's attempt to -speak unsuccessful, but he was rudely interrupted, pushed aside, and -people turned away from him as from a common enemy. This happened -not because they were displeased by the substance of his speech, which -had even been forgotten after the many subsequent speeches, but to -animate it the crowd needed a tangible object to love and a tangible -object to hate. Pierre became the latter. Many other orators spoke -after the excited nobleman, and all in the same tone. Many spoke -eloquently and with originality. - -Glinka, the editor of the Russian Messenger, who was recognized -(cries of "author! author!" were heard in the crowd), said that -"hell must be repulsed by hell," and that he had seen a child -smiling at lightning flashes and thunderclaps, but "we will not be -that child." - -"Yes, yes, at thunderclaps!" was repeated approvingly in the back -rows of the crowd. - -The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or -bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of -whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or -playing boston at the clubs. With an incessant hum of voices the crowd -advanced to the table. Pressed by the throng against the high backs of -the chairs, the orators spoke one after another and sometimes two -together. Those standing behind noticed what a speaker omitted to -say and hastened to supply it. Others in that heat and crush racked -their brains to find some thought and hastened to utter it. The old -magnates, whom Pierre knew, sat and turned to look first at one and -then at another, and their faces for the most part only expressed -the fact that they found it very hot. Pierre, however, felt excited, -and the general desire to show that they were ready to go to all -lengths- which found expression in the tones and looks more than in -the substance of the speeches- infected him too. He did not renounce -his opinions, but felt himself in some way to blame and wished to -justify himself. - -"I only said that it would be more to the purpose to make sacrifices -when we know what is needed!" said he, trying to be heard above the -other voices. - -One of the old men nearest to him looked round, but his attention -was immediately diverted by an exclamation at the other side of the -table. - -"Yes, Moscow will be surrendered! She will be our expiation!" -shouted one man. - -"He is the enemy of mankind!" cried another. "Allow me to speak...." -"Gentlemen, you are crushing me!..." - -CHAPTER XXIII - -At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert -eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, -entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of -gentry. - -"Our sovereign the Emperor will be here in a moment," said -Rostopchin. "I am straight from the palace. Seeing the position we are -in, I think there is little need for discussion. The Emperor has -deigned to summon us and the merchants. Millions will pour forth -from there"- he pointed to the merchants' hall- "but our business is -to supply men and not spare ourselves... That is the least we can do!" - -A conference took place confined to the magnates sitting at the -table. The whole consultation passed more than quietly. After all -the preceding noise the sound of their old voices saying one after -another, "I agree," or for variety, "I too am of that opinion," and so -on had even a mournful effect. - -The secretary was told to write down the resolution of the Moscow -nobility and gentry, that they would furnish ten men, fully -equipped, out of every thousand serfs, as the Smolensk gentry had -done. Their chairs made a scraping noise as the gentlemen who had -conferred rose with apparent relief, and began walking up and down, -arm in arm, to stretch their legs and converse in couples. - -"The Emperor! The Emperor!" a sudden cry resounded through the halls -and the whole throng hurried to the entrance. - -The Emperor entered the hall through a broad path between two -lines of nobles. Every face expressed respectful, awe-struck -curiosity. Pierre stood rather far off and could not hear all that the -Emperor said. From what he did hear he understood that the Emperor -spoke of the danger threatening the empire and of the hopes he -placed on the Moscow nobility. He was answered by a voice which -informed him of the resolution just arrived at. - -"Gentlemen!" said the Emperor with a quivering voice. - -There was a rustling among the crowd and it again subsided, so -that Pierre distinctly heard the pleasantly human voice of the Emperor -saying with emotion: - -"I never doubted the devotion of the Russian nobles, but today it -has surpassed my expectations. I thank you in the name of the -Fatherland! Gentlemen, let us act! Time is most precious..." - -The Emperor ceased speaking, the crowd began pressing round him, and -rapturous exclamations were heard from all sides. - -"Yes, most precious... a royal word," said Count Rostov, with a sob. -He stood at the back, and, though he had heard hardly anything, -understood everything in his own way. - -From the hall of the nobility the Emperor went to that of the -merchants. There he remained about ten minutes. Pierre was among those -who saw him come out from the merchants' hall with tears of emotion in -his eyes. As became known later, he had scarcely begun to address -the merchants before tears gushed from his eyes and he concluded in -a trembling voice. When Pierre saw the Emperor he was coming out -accompanied by two merchants, one of whom Pierre knew, a fat -otkupshchik. The other was the mayor, a man with a thin sallow face -and narrow beard. Both were weeping. Tears filled the thin man's eyes, -and the fat otkupshchik sobbed outright like a child and kept -repeating: - -"Our lives and property- take them, Your Majesty!" - -Pierre's one feeling at the moment was a desire to show that he -was ready to go all lengths and was prepared to sacrifice -everything. He now felt ashamed of his speech with its -constitutional tendency and sought an opportunity of effacing it. -Having heard that Count Mamonov was furnishing a regiment, Bezukhov at -once informed Rostopchin that he would give a thousand men and their -maintenance. - -Old Rostov could not tell his wife of what had passed without tears, -and at once consented to Petya's request and went himself to enter his -name. - -Next day the Emperor left Moscow. The assembled nobles all took -off their uniforms and settled down again in their homes and clubs, -and not without some groans gave orders to their stewards about the -enrollment, feeling amazed themselves at what they had done. - -BOOK TEN: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -Napoleon began the war with Russia because he could not resist going -to Dresden, could not help having his head turned by the homage he -received, could not help donning a Polish uniform and yielding to -the stimulating influence of a June morning, and could not refrain -from bursts of anger in the presence of Kurakin and then of Balashev. - -Alexander refused negotiations because he felt himself to be -personally insulted. Barclay de Tolly tried to command the army in the -best way, because he wished to fulfill his duty and earn fame as a -great commander. Rostov charged the French because he could not -restrain his wish for a gallop across a level field; and in the same -way the innumerable people who took part in the war acted in accord -with their personal characteristics, habits, circumstances, and -aims. They were moved by fear or vanity, rejoiced or were indignant, -reasoned, imagining that they knew what they were doing and did it -of their own free will, but they all were involuntary tools of -history, carrying on a work concealed from them but comprehensible -to us. Such is the inevitable fate of men of action, and the higher -they stand in the social hierarchy the less are they free. - -The actors of 1812 have long since left the stage, their personal -interests have vanished leaving no trace, and nothing remains of -that time but its historic results. - -Providence compelled all these men, striving to attain personal -aims, to further the accomplishment of a stupendous result no one of -them at all expected- neither Napoleon, nor Alexander, nor still -less any of those who did the actual fighting. - -The cause of the destruction of the French army in 1812 is clear -to us now. No one will deny that that cause was, on the one hand, -its advance into the heart of Russia late in the season without any -preparation for a winter campaign and, on the other, the character -given to the war by the burning of Russian towns and the hatred of the -foe this aroused among the Russian people. But no one at the time -foresaw (what now seems so evident) that this was the only way an army -of eight hundred thousand men- the best in the world and led by the -best general- could be destroyed in conflict with a raw army of half -its numerical strength, and led by inexperienced commanders as the -Russian army was. Not only did no one see this, but on the Russian -side every effort was made to hinder the only thing that could save -Russia, while on the French side, despite Napoleon's experience and -so-called military genius, every effort was directed to pushing on -to Moscow at the end of the summer, that is, to doing the very thing -that was bound to lead to destruction. - -In historical works on the year 1812 French writers are very fond of -saying that Napoleon felt the danger of extending his line, that he -sought a battle and that his marshals advised him to stop at Smolensk, -and of making similar statements to show that the danger of the -campaign was even then understood. Russian authors are still fonder of -telling us that from the commencement of the campaign a Scythian war -plan was adopted to lure Napoleon into the depths of Russia, and -this plan some of them attribute to Pfuel, others to a certain -Frenchman, others to Toll, and others again to Alexander himself- -pointing to notes, projects, and letters which contain hints of such a -line of action. But all these hints at what happened, both from the -French side and the Russian, are advanced only because they fit in -with the event. Had that event not occurred these hints would have -been forgotten, as we have forgotten the thousands and millions of -hints and expectations to the contrary which were current then but -have now been forgotten because the event falsified them. There are -always so many conjectures as to the issue of any event that however -it may end there will always be people to say: "I said then that it -would be so," quite forgetting that amid their innumerable conjectures -many were to quite the contrary effect. - -Conjectures as to Napoleon's awareness of the danger of extending -his line, and (on the Russian side) as to luring the enemy into the -depths of Russia, are evidently of that kind, and only by much -straining can historians attribute such conceptions to Napoleon and -his marshals, or such plans to the Russian commanders. All the facts -are in flat contradiction to such conjectures. During the whole period -of the war not only was there no wish on the Russian side to draw -the French into the heart of the country, but from their first entry -into Russia everything was done to stop them. And not only was -Napoleon not afraid to extend his line, but he welcomed every step -forward as a triumph and did not seek battle as eagerly as in former -campaigns, but very lazily. - -At the very beginning of the war our armies were divided, and our -sole aim was to unite them, though uniting the armies was no advantage -if we meant to retire and lure the enemy into the depths of the -country. Our Emperor joined the army to encourage it to defend every -inch of Russian soil and not to retreat. The enormous Drissa camp -was formed on Pfuel's plan, and there was no intention of retiring -farther. The Emperor reproached the commanders in chief for every step -they retired. He could not bear the idea of letting the enemy even -reach Smolensk, still less could he contemplate the burning of Moscow, -and when our armies did unite he was displeased that Smolensk was -abandoned and burned without a general engagement having been fought -under its walls. - -So thought the Emperor, and the Russian commanders and people were -still more provoked at the thought that our forces were retreating -into the depths of the country. - -Napoleon having cut our armies apart advanced far into the country -and missed several chances of forcing an engagement. In August he -was at Smolensk and thought only of how to advance farther, though -as we now see that advance was evidently ruinous to him. - -The facts clearly show that Napoleon did not foresee the danger of -the advance on Moscow, nor did Alexander and the Russian commanders -then think of luring Napoleon on, but quite the contrary. The luring -of Napoleon into the depths of the country was not the result of any -plan, for no one believed it to be possible; it resulted from a most -complex interplay of intrigues, aims, and wishes among those who -took part in the war and had no perception whatever of the inevitable, -or of the one way of saving Russia. Everything came about -fortuitously. The armies were divided at the commencement of the -campaign. We tried to unite them, with the evident intention of giving -battle and checking the enemy's advance, and by this effort to unite -them while avoiding battle with a much stronger enemy, and necessarily -withdrawing the armies at an acute angle- we led the French on to -Smolensk. But we withdrew at an acute angle not only because the -French advanced between our two armies; the angle became still more -acute and we withdrew still farther, because Barclay de Tolly was an -unpopular foreigner disliked by Bagration (who would come his -command), and Bagration- being in command of the second army- tried to -postpone joining up and coming under Barclay's command as long as he -could. Bagration was slow in effecting the junction- though that was -the chief aim of all at headquarters- because, as he alleged, he -exposed his army to danger on this march, and it was best for him to -retire more to the left and more to the south, worrying the enemy from -flank and rear and securing from the Ukraine recruits for his army; -and it looks as if he planned this in order not to come under the -command of the detested foreigner Barclay, whose rank was inferior -to his own. - -The Emperor was with the army to encourage it, but his presence -and ignorance of what steps to take, and the enormous number of -advisers and plans, destroyed the first army's energy and it retired. - -The intention was to make a stand at the Drissa camp, but -Paulucci, aiming at becoming commander in chief, unexpectedly employed -his energy to influence Alexander, and Pfuel's whole plan was -abandoned and the command entrusted to Barclay. But as Barclay did not -inspire confidence his power was limited. The armies were divided, -there was no unity of command, and Barclay was unpopular; but from -this confusion, division, and the unpopularity of the foreign -commander in chief, there resulted on the one hand indecision and -the avoidance of a battle (which we could not have refrained from -had the armies been united and had someone else, instead of Barclay, -been in command) and on the other an ever-increasing indignation -against the foreigners and an increase in patriotic zeal. - -At last the Emperor left the army, and as the most convenient and -indeed the only pretext for his departure it was decided that it was -necessary for him to inspire the people in the capitals and arouse the -nation in general to a patriotic war. And by this visit of the Emperor -to Moscow the strength of the Russian army was trebled. - -He left in order not to obstruct the commander in chief's -undivided control of the army, and hoping that more decisive action -would then be taken, but the command of the armies became still more -confused and enfeebled. Bennigsen, the Tsarevich, and a swarm of -adjutants general remained with the army to keep the commander in -chief under observation and arouse his energy, and Barclay, feeling -less free than ever under the observation of all these "eyes of the -Emperor," became still more cautious of undertaking any decisive -action and avoided giving battle. - -Barclay stood for caution. The Tsarevich hinted at treachery and -demanded a general engagement. Lubomirski, Bronnitski, Wlocki, and the -others of that group stirred up so much trouble that Barclay, under -pretext of sending papers to the Emperor, dispatched these Polish -adjutants general to Petersburg and plunged into an open struggle with -Bennigsen and the Tsarevich. - -At Smolensk the armies at last reunited, much as Bagration -disliked it. - -Bagration drove up in a carriage to to the house occupied by -Barclay. Barclay donned his sash and came out to meet and report to -his senior officer Bagration. - -Despite his seniority in rank Bagration, in this contest of -magnanimity, took his orders from Barclay, but, having submitted, -agreed with him less than ever. By the Emperor's orders Bagration -reported direct to him. He wrote to Arakcheev, the Emperor's -confidant: "It must be as my sovereign pleases, but I cannot work with -the Minister (meaning Barclay). For God's sake send me somewhere -else if only in command of a regiment. I cannot stand it here. -Headquarters are so full of Germans that a Russian cannot exist and -there is no sense in anything. I thought I was really serving my -sovereign and the Fatherland, but it turns out that I am serving -Barclay. I confess I do not want to." - -The swarm of Bronnitskis and Wintzingerodes and their like still -further embittered the relations between the commanders in chief, -and even less unity resulted. Preparations were made to fight the -French before Smolensk. A general was sent to survey the position. -This general, hating Barclay, rode to visit a friend of his own, a -corps commander, and, having spent the day with him, returned to -Barclay and condemned, as unsuitable from every point of view, the -battleground he had not seen. - -While disputes and intrigues were going on about the future field of -battle, and while we were looking for the French- having lost touch -with them- the French stumbled upon Neverovski's division and -reached the walls of Smolensk. - -It was necessary to fight an unexpected battle at Smolensk to save -our lines of communication. The battle was fought and thousands were -killed on both sides. - -Smolensk was abandoned contrary to the wishes of the Emperor and -of the whole people. But Smolensk was burned by its own -inhabitants-who had been misled by their governor. And these ruined -inhabitants, setting an example to other Russians, went to Moscow -thinking only of their own losses but kindling hatred of the foe. -Napoleon advanced farther and we retired, thus arriving at the very -result which caused his destruction. - -CHAPTER II - -The day after his son had left, Prince Nicholas sent for Princess -Mary to come to his study. - -"Well? Are you satisfied now?" said he. "You've made me quarrel with -my son! Satisfied, are you? That's all you wanted! Satisfied?... It -hurts me, it hurts. I'm old and weak and this is what you wanted. Well -then, gloat over it! Gloat over it!" - -After that Princess Mary did not see her father for a whole week. He -was ill and did not leave his study. - -Princess Mary noticed to her surprise that during this illness the -old prince not only excluded her from his room, but did not admit -Mademoiselle Bourienne either. Tikhon alone attended him. - -At the end of the week the prince reappeared and resumed his -former way of life, devoting himself with special activity to building -operations and the arrangement of the gardens and completely -breaking off his relations with Mademoiselle Bourienne. His looks -and cold tone to his daughter seemed to say: "There, you see? You -plotted against me, you lied to Prince Andrew about my relations -with that Frenchwoman and made me quarrel with him, but you see I need -neither her nor you!" - -Princess Mary spent half of every day with little Nicholas, watching -his lessons, teaching him Russian and music herself, and talking to -Dessalles; the rest of the day she spent over her books, with her -old nurse, or with "God's folk" who sometimes came by the back door to -see her. - -Of the war Princess Mary thought as women do think about wars. She -feared for her brother who was in it, was horrified by and amazed at -the strange cruelty that impels men to kill one another, but she did -not understand the significance of this war, which seemed to her -like all previous wars. She did not realize the significance of this -war, though Dessalles with whom she constantly conversed was -passionately interested in its progress and tried to explain his own -conception of it to her, and though the "God's folk" who came to see -her reported, in their own way, the rumors current among the people of -an invasion by Antichrist, and though Julie (now Princess -Drubetskaya), who had resumed correspondence with her, wrote patriotic -letters from Moscow. - -"I write you in Russian, my good friend," wrote Julie in her -Frenchified Russian, "because I have a detestation for all the French, -and the same for their language which I cannot support to hear -spoken.... We in Moscow are elated by enthusiasm for our adored -Emperor. - -"My poor husband is enduring pains and hunger in Jewish taverns, but -the news which I have inspires me yet more. - -"You heard probably of the heroic exploit of Raevski, embracing -his two sons and saying: 'I will perish with them but we will not be -shaken!' And truly though the enemy was twice stronger than we, we -were unshakable. We pass the time as we can, but in war as in war! The -princesses Aline and Sophie sit whole days with me, and we, unhappy -widows of live men, make beautiful conversations over our charpie, -only you, my friend, are missing..." and so on. - -The chief reason Princess Mary did not realize the full significance -of this war was that the old prince never spoke of it, did not -recognize it, and laughed at Dessalles when he mentioned it at dinner. -The prince's tone was so calm and confident that Princess Mary -unhesitatingly believed him. - -All that July the old prince was exceedingly active and even -animated. He planned another garden and began a new building for the -domestic serfs. The only thing that made Princess Mary anxious about -him was that he slept very little and, instead of sleeping in his -study as usual, changed his sleeping place every day. One day he would -order his camp bed to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he -remained on the couch or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and -dozed there without undressing, while- instead of Mademoiselle -Bourienne- a serf boy read to him. Then again he would spend a night -in the dining room. - -On August 1, a second letter was received from Prince Andrew. In his -first letter which came soon after he had left home, Prince Andrew had -dutifully asked his father's forgiveness for what he had allowed -himself to say and begged to be restored to his favor. To this -letter the old prince had replied affectionately, and from that time -had kept the Frenchwoman at at Prince Andrew's second letter, -written near Vitebsk after the French had occupied that town, gave a -brief account of the whole campaign, enclosed for them a plan he had -drawn and forecasts as to the further progress of the war. In this -letter Prince Andrew pointed out to his father the danger of staying -at Bald Hills, so near the theater of war and on the army's direct -line of march, and advised him to move to Moscow. - -At dinner that day, on Dessalles' mentioning that the French were -said to have already entered Vitebsk, the old prince remembered his -son's letter. - -"There was a letter from Prince Andrew today," he said to Princess -Mary- "Haven't you read it?" - -"No, Father," she replied in a frightened voice. - -She could not have read the letter as she did not even know it had -arrived. - -"He writes about this war," said the prince, with the ironic smile -that had become habitual to him in speaking of the present war. - -"That must be very interesting," said Dessalles. "Prince Andrew is -in a position to know..." - -"Oh, very interesting!" said Mademoiselle Bourienne. - -"Go and get it for me," said the old prince to Mademoiselle -Bourienne. "You know- under the paperweight on the little table." - -Mademoiselle Bourienne jumped up eagerly. - -"No, don't!" he exclaimed with a frown. "You go, Michael Ivanovich." - -Michael Ivanovich rose and went to the study. But as soon as he -had left the room the old prince, looking uneasily round, threw down -his napkin and went himself. - -"They can't do anything... always make some muddle," he muttered. - -While he was away Princess Mary, Dessalles, Mademoiselle -Bourienne, and even little Nicholas exchanged looks in silence. The -old prince returned with quick steps, accompanied by Michael -Ivanovich, bringing the letter and a plan. These he put down beside -him- not letting anyone read them at dinner. - -On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess -Mary and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and -fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud. When she -had done so Princess Mary looked inquiringly at her father. He was -examining the plan, evidently engrossed in his own ideas. - -"What do you think of it, Prince?" Dessalles ventured to ask. - -"I? I?..." said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not -taking his eyes from the plan of the building. - -"Very possibly the theater of war will move so near to us that..." - -"Ha ha ha! The theater of war!" said the prince. "I have said and -still say that the theater of war is Poland and the enemy will never -get beyond the Niemen." - -Dessalles looked in amazement at the prince, who was talking of -the Niemen when the enemy was already at the Dnieper, but Princess -Mary, forgetting the geographical position of the Niemen, thought that -what her father was saying was correct. - -"When the snow melts they'll sink in the Polish swamps. Only they -could fail to see it," the prince continued, evidently thinking of the -campaign of 1807 which seemed to him so recent. "Bennigsen should have -advanced into Prussia sooner, then things would have taken a different -turn..." - -"But, Prince," Dessalles began timidly, "the letter mentions -Vitebsk...." - -"Ah, the letter? Yes..." replied the prince peevishly. "Yes... -yes..." His face suddenly took on a morose expression. He paused. -"Yes, he writes that the French were beaten at... at... what river -is it?" - -Dessalles dropped his eyes. - -"The prince says nothing about that," he remarked gently. - -"Doesn't he? But I didn't invent it myself." - -No one spoke for a long time. - -"Yes... yes... Well, Michael Ivanovich," he suddenly went on, -raising his head and pointing to the plan of the building, "tell me -how you mean to alter it...." - -Michael Ivanovich went up to the plan, and the prince after speaking -to him about the building looked angrily at Princess Mary and -Dessalles and went to his own room. - -Princess Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed -on her father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that -her father had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; -but she was not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the -reason of his confusion and silence, but was afraid even to think -about it. - -In the evening Michael Ivanovich, sent by the prince, came to -Princess Mary for Prince Andrew's letter which had been forgotten in -the drawing room. She gave it to him and, unpleasant as it was to -her to do so, ventured to ask him what her father was doing. - -"Always busy," replied Michael Ivanovich with a respectfully -ironic smile which caused Princess Mary to turn pale. "He's worrying -very much about the new building. He has been reading a little, but -now"- Michael Ivanovich went on, lowering his voice- "now he's at -his desk, busy with his will, I expect." (One of the prince's favorite -occupations of late had been the preparation of some papers he meant -to leave at his death and which he called his "will.") - -"And Alpatych is being sent to Smolensk?" asked Princess Mary. - -"Oh, yes, he has been waiting to start for some time." - -CHAPTER III - -When Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the -old prince, with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was -sitting at his open bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in -his outstretched hand, and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading -his manuscript- his "Remarks" as he termed it- which was to be -transmitted to the Emperor after his death. - -When Michael Ivanovich went in there were tears in the prince's eyes -evoked by the memory of the time when the paper he was now reading had -been written. He took the letter from Michael Ivanovich's hand, put it -in his pocket, folded up his papers, and called in Alpatych who had -long been waiting. - -The prince had a list of things to be bought in Smolensk and, -walking up and down the room past Alpatych who stood by the door, he -gave his instructions. - -"First, notepaper- do you hear? Eight quires, like this sample, -gilt-edged... it must be exactly like the sample. Varnish, sealing -wax, as in Michael Ivanovich's list." - -He paced up and down for a while and glanced at his notes. - -"Then hand to the governor in person a letter about the deed." - -Next, bolts for the doors of the new building were wanted and had to -be of a special shape the prince had himself designed, and a leather -case had to be ordered to keep the "will" in. - -The instructions to Alpatych took over two hours and still the -prince did not let him go. He sat down, sank into thought, closed -his eyes, and dozed off. Alpatych made a slight movement. - -"Well, go, go! If anything more is wanted I'll send after you." - -Alpatych went out. The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into -it, fingered his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at -the table to write to the governor. - -It was already late when he rose after sealing the letter. He wished -to sleep, but he knew he would not be able to and that most depressing -thoughts came to him in bed. So he called Tikhon and went through -the rooms with him to show him where to set up the bed for that night. - -He went about looking at every corner. Every place seemed -unsatisfactory, but worst of all was his customary couch in the study. -That couch was dreadful to him, probably because of the oppressive -thoughts he had had when lying there. It was unsatisfactory -everywhere, but the corner behind the piano in the sitting room was -better than other places: he had never slept there yet. - -With the help of a footman Tikhon brought in the bedstead and -began putting it up. - -"That's not right! That's not right!" cried the prince, and -himself pushed it a few inches from the corner and then closer in -again. - -"Well, at last I've finished, now I'll rest," thought the prince, -and let Tikhon undress him. - -Frowning with vexation at the effort necessary to divest himself -of his coat and trousers, the prince undressed, sat down heavily on -the bed, and appeared to be meditating as he looked contemptuously -at his withered yellow legs. He was not meditating, but only deferring -the moment of making the effort to lift those legs up and turn over on -the bed. "Ugh, how hard it is! Oh, that this toil might end and you -would release me!" thought he. Pressing his lips together he made that -effort for the twenty-thousandth time and lay down. But hardly had -he done so before he felt the bed rocking backwards and forwards -beneath him as if it were breathing heavily and jolting. This happened -to him almost every night. He opened his eyes as they were closing. - -"No peace, damn them!" he muttered, angry he knew not with whom. "Ah -yes, there was something else important, very important, that I was -keeping till I should be in bed. The bolts? No, I told him about them. -No, it was something, something in the drawing room. Princess Mary -talked some nonsense. Dessalles, that fool, said something. -Something in my pocket- can't remember..." - -"Tikhon, what did we talk about at dinner?" - -"About Prince Michael..." - -"Be quiet, quiet!" The prince slapped his hand on the table. "Yes, I -know, Prince Andrew's letter! Princess Mary read it. Dessalles said -something about Vitebsk. Now I'll read it." - -He had the letter taken from his pocket and the table- on which -stood a glass of lemonade and a spiral wax candle- moved close to -the bed, and putting on his spectacles he began reading. Only now in -the stillness of the night, reading it by the faint light under the -green shade, did he grasp its meaning for a moment. - -"The French at Vitebsk, in four days' march they may be at Smolensk; -perhaps are already there! Tikhon!" Tikhon jumped up. "No, no, I don't -want anything!" he shouted. - -He put the letter under the candlestick and closed his eyes. And -there rose before him the Danube at bright noonday: reeds, the Russian -camp, and himself a young general without a wrinkle on his ruddy face, -vigorous and alert, entering Potemkin's gaily colored tent, and a -burning sense of jealousy of "the favorite" agitated him now as -strongly as it had done then. He recalled all the words spoken at that -first meeting with Potemkin. And he saw before him a plump, rather -sallow-faced, short, stout woman, the Empress Mother, with her smile -and her words at her first gracious reception of him, and then that -same face on the catafalque, and the encounter he had with Zubov -over her coffin about his right to kiss her hand. - -"Oh, quicker, quicker! To get back to that time and have done with -all the present! Quicker, quicker- and that they should leave me in -peace!" - -CHAPTER IV - -Bald Hills, Prince Nicholas Bolkonski's estate, lay forty miles east -from Smolensk and two miles from the main road to Moscow. - -The same evening that the prince gave his instructions to -Alpatych, Dessalles, having asked to see Princess Mary, told her that, -as the prince was not very well and was taking no steps to secure -his safety, though from Prince Andrew's letter it was evident that -to remain at Bald Hills might be dangerous, he respectfully advised -her to send a letter by Alpatych to the Provincial Governor at -Smolensk, asking him to let her know the state of affairs and the -extent of the danger to which Bald Hills was exposed. Dessalles -wrote this letter to the Governor for Princess Mary, she signed it, -and it was given to Alpatych with instructions to hand it to the -Governor and to come back as quickly as possible if there was danger. - -Having received all his orders Alpatych, wearing a white beaver hat- -a present from the prince- and carrying a stick as the prince did, -went out accompanied by his family. Three well-fed roans stood ready -harnessed to a small conveyance with a leather hood. - -The larger bell was muffled and the little bells on the harness -stuffed with paper. The prince allowed no one at Bald Hills to drive -with ringing bells; but on a long journey Alpatych liked to have them. -His satellites- the senior clerk, a countinghouse clerk, a scullery -maid, a cook, two old women, a little pageboy, the coachman, and -various domestic serfs- were seeing him off. - -His daughter placed chintz-covered down cushions for him to sit on -and behind his back. His old sister-in-law popped in a small bundle, -and one of the coachmen helped him into the vehicle. - -"There! There! Women's fuss! Women, women!" said Alpatych, puffing -and speaking rapidly just as the prince did, and he climbed into the -trap. - -After giving the clerk orders about the work to be done, Alpatych, -not trying to imitate the prince now, lifted the hat from his bald -head and crossed himself three times. - -"If there is anything... come back, Yakov Alpatych! For Christ's -sake think of us!" cried his wife, referring to the rumors of war -and the enemy. - -"Women, women! Women's fuss!" muttered Alpatych to himself and -started on his journey, looking round at the fields of yellow rye -and the still-green, thickly growing oats, and at other quite black -fields just being plowed a second time. - -As he went along he looked with pleasure at the year's splendid crop -of corn, scrutinized the strips of ryefield which here and there -were already being reaped, made his calculations as to the sowing -and the harvest, and asked himself whether he had not forgotten any of -the prince's orders. - -Having baited the horses twice on the way, he arrived at the town -toward evening on the fourth of August. - -Alpatych kept meeting and overtaking baggage trains and troops on -the road. As he approached Smolensk he heard the sounds of distant -firing, but these did not impress him. What struck him most was the -sight of a splendid field of oats in which a camp had been pitched and -which was being mown down by the soldiers, evidently for fodder. -This fact impressed Alpatych, but in thinking about his own business -he soon forgot it. - -All the interests of his life for more than thirty years had been -bounded by the will of the prince, and he never went beyond that -limit. Everything not connected with the execution of the prince's -orders did not interest and did not even exist for Alpatych. - -On reaching Smolensk on the evening of the fourth of August he put -up in the Gachina suburb across the Dnieper, at the inn kept by -Ferapontov, where he had been in the habit of putting up for the -last thirty years. Some thirty years ago Ferapontov, by Alpatych's -advice, had bought a wood from the prince, had begun to trade, and now -had a house, an inn, and a corn dealer's shop in that province. He was -a stout, dark, red-faced peasant in the forties, with thick lips, a -broad knob of a nose, similar knobs over his black frowning brows, and -a round belly. - -Wearing a waistcoat over his cotton shirt, Ferapontov was standing -before his shop which opened onto the street. On seeing Alpatych he -went up to him. - -"You're welcome, Yakov Alpatych. Folks are leaving the town, but you -have come to it," said he. - -"Why are they leaving the town?" asked Alpatych. - -"That's what I say. Folks are foolish! Always afraid of the French." - -"Women's fuss, women's fuss!" said Alpatych. - -"Just what I think, Yakov Alpatych. What I say is: orders have -been given not to let them in, so that must be right. And the peasants -are asking three rubles for carting- it isn't Christian!" - -Yakov Alpatych heard without heeding. He asked for a samovar and for -hay for his horses, and when he had had his tea he went to bed. - -All night long troops were moving past the inn. Next morning -Alpatych donned a jacket he wore only in town and went out on -business. It was a sunny morning and by eight o'clock it was already -hot. "A good day for harvesting," thought Alpatych. - -From beyond the town firing had been heard since early morning. At -eight o'clock the booming of cannon was added to the sound of -musketry. Many people were hurrying through the streets and there were -many soldiers, but cabs were still driving about, tradesmen stood at -their shops, and service was being held in the churches as usual. -Alpatych went to the shops, to government offices, to the post office, -and to the Governor's. In the offices and shops and at the post office -everyone was talking about the army and about the enemy who was -already attacking the town, everybody was asking what should be -done, and all were trying to calm one another. - -In front of the Governor's house Alpatych found a large number of -people, Cossacks, and a traveling carriage of the Governor's. At the -porch he met two of the landed gentry, one of whom he knew. This -man, an ex-captain of police, was saying angrily: - -"It's no joke, you know! It's all very well if you're single. 'One -man though undone is but one,' as the proverb says, but with -thirteen in your family and all the property... They've brought us -to utter ruin! What sort of governors are they to do that? They -ought to be hanged- the brigands!..." - -"Oh come, that's enough!" said the other. - -"What do I care? Let him hear! We're not dogs," said the -ex-captain of police, and looking round he noticed Alpatych. - -"Oh, Yakov Alpatych! What have you come for?" - -"To see the Governor by his excellency's order," answered -Alpatych, lifting his head and proudly thrusting his hand into the -bosom of his coat as he always did when he mentioned the prince.... He -has ordered me to inquire into the position of affairs," he added. - -"Yes, go and find out!" shouted the angry gentleman. "They've -brought things to such a pass that there are no carts or -anything!... There it is again, do you hear?" said he, pointing in the -direction whence came the sounds of firing. - -"They've brought us all to ruin... the brigands!" he repeated, and -descended the porch steps. - -Alpatych swayed his head and went upstairs. In the waiting room were -tradesmen, women, and officials, looking silently at one another. -The door of the Governor's room opened and they all rose and moved -forward. An official ran out, said some words to a merchant, called -a stout official with a cross hanging on his neck to follow him, and -vanished again, evidently wishing to avoid the inquiring looks and -questions addressed to him. Alpatych moved forward and next time the -official came out addressed him, one hand placed in the breast of -his buttoned coat, and handed him two letters. - -"To his Honor Baron Asch, from General-in-Chief Prince Bolkonski," -he announced with such solemnity and significance that the official -turned to him and took the letters. - -A few minutes later the Governor received Alpatych and hurriedly -said to him: - -"Inform the prince and princess that I knew nothing: I acted on -the highest instructions- here..." and he handed a paper to -Alpatych. "Still, as the prince is unwell my advice is that they -should go to Moscow. I am just starting myself. Inform them..." - -But the Governor did not finish: a dusty perspiring officer ran into -the room and began to say something in French. The Governor's face -expressed terror. - -"Go," he said, nodding his head to Alpatych, and began questioning -the officer. - -Eager, frightened, helpless glances were turned on Alpatych when -he came out of the Governor's room. Involuntarily listening now to the -firing, which had drawn nearer and was increasing in strength, -Alpatych hurried to his inn. The paper handed to him by the Governor -said this: - -"I assure you that the town of Smolensk is not in the slightest -danger as yet and it is unlikely that it will be threatened with -any. I from the one side and Prince Bagration from the other are -marching to unite our forces before Smolensk, which junction will be -effected on the 22nd instant, and both armies with their united forces -will defend our compatriots of the province entrusted to your care -till our efforts shall have beaten back the enemies of our Fatherland, -or till the last warrior in our valiant ranks has perished. From -this you will see that you have a perfect right to reassure the -inhabitants of Smolensk, for those defended by two such brave armies -may feel assured of victory." (Instructions from Barclay de Tolly to -Baron Asch, the civil governor of Smolensk, 1812.) - -People were anxiously roaming about the streets. - -Carts piled high with household utensils, chairs, and cupboards kept -emerging from the gates of the yards and moving along the streets. -Loaded carts stood at the house next to Ferapontov's and women were -wailing and lamenting as they said good-by. A small watchdog ran round -barking in front of the harnessed horses. - -Alpatych entered the innyard at a quicker pace than usual and went -straight to the shed where his horses and trap were. The coachman -was asleep. He woke him up, told him to harness, and went into the -passage. From the host's room came the sounds of a child crying, the -despairing sobs of a woman, and the hoarse angry shouting of -Ferapontov. The cook began running hither and thither in the passage -like a frightened hen, just as Alpatych entered. - -"He's done her to death. Killed the mistress!... Beat her... dragged -her about so!..." - -"What for?" asked Alpatych. - -"She kept begging to go away. She's a woman! 'Take me away,' says -she, 'don't let me perish with my little children! Folks,' she says, -'are all gone, so why,' she says, 'don't we go?' And he began -beating and pulling her about so!" - -At these words Alpatych nodded as if in approval, and not wishing to -hear more went to the door of the room opposite the innkeeper's, where -he had left his purchases. - -"You brute, you murderer!" screamed a thin, pale woman who, with a -baby in her arms and her kerchief torn from her head, burst through -the door at that moment and down the steps into the yard. - -Ferapontov came out after her, but on seeing Alpatych adjusted his -waistcoat, smoothed his hair, yawned, and followed Alpatych into the -opposite room. - -"Going already?" said he. - -Alpatych, without answering or looking at his host, sorted his -packages and asked how much he owed. - -"We'll reckon up! Well, have you been to the Governor's?" asked -Ferapontov. "What has been decided?" - -Alpatych replied that the Governor had not told him anything -definite. - -"With our business, how can we get away?" said Ferapontov. "We'd -have to pay seven rubles a cartload to Dorogobuzh and I tell them -they're not Christians to ask it! Selivanov, now, did a good stroke -last Thursday- sold flour to the army at nine rubles a sack. Will -you have some tea?" he added. - -While the horses were being harnessed Alpatych and Ferapontov over -their tea talked of the price of corn, the crops, and the good weather -for harvesting. - -"Well, it seems to be getting quieter," remarked Ferapontov, -finishing his third cup of tea and getting up. "Ours must have got the -best of it. The orders were not to let them in. So we're in force, -it seems.... They say the other day Matthew Ivanych Platov drove -them into the river Marina and drowned some eighteen thousand in one -day." - -Alpatych collected his parcels, handed them to the coachman who -had come in, and settled up with the innkeeper. The noise of wheels, -hoofs, and bells was heard from the gateway as a little trap passed -out. - -It was by now late in the afternoon. Half the street was in -shadow, the other half brightly lit by the sun. Alpatych looked out of -the window and went to the door. Suddenly the strange sound of a -far-off whistling and thud was heard, followed by a boom of cannon -blending into a dull roar that set the windows rattling. - -He went out into the street: two men were running past toward the -bridge. From different sides came whistling sounds and the thud of -cannon balls and bursting shells falling on the town. But these sounds -were hardly heard in comparison with the noise of the firing outside -the town and attracted little attention from the inhabitants. The town -was being bombarded by a hundred and thirty guns which Napoleon had -ordered up after four o'clock. The people did not at once realize -the meaning of this bombardment. - -At first the noise of the falling bombs and shells only aroused -curiosity. Ferapontov's wife, who till then had not ceased wailing -under the shed, became quiet and with the baby in her arms went to the -gate, listening to the sounds and looking in silence at the people. - -The cook and a shop assistant came to the gate. With lively -curiosity everyone tried to get a glimpse of the projectiles as they -flew over their heads. Several people came round the corner talking -eagerly. - -"What force!" remarked one. "Knocked the roof and ceiling all to -splinters!" - -"Routed up the earth like a pig," said another. - -"That's grand, it bucks one up!" laughed the first. "Lucky you -jumped aside, or it would have wiped you out!" - -Others joined those men and stopped and told how cannon balls had -fallen on a house close to them. Meanwhile still more projectiles, now -with the swift sinister whistle of a cannon ball, now with the -agreeable intermittent whistle of a shell, flew over people's heads -incessantly, but not one fell close by, they all flew over. Alpatych -was getting into his trap. The innkeeper stood at the gate. - -"What are you staring at?" he shouted to the cook, who in her red -skirt, with sleeves rolled up, swinging her bare elbows, had stepped -to the corner to listen to what was being said. - -"What marvels!" she exclaimed, but hearing her master's voice she -turned back. pulling down her tucked-up skirt. - -Once more something whistled, but this time quite close, swooping -downwards like a little bird; a flame flashed in the middle of the -street, something exploded, and the street was shrouded in smoke. - -"Scoundrel, what are you doing?" shouted the innkeeper, rushing to -the cook. - -At that moment the pitiful wailing of women was heard from different -sides, the frightened baby began to cry, and people crowded silently -with pale faces round the cook. The loudest sound in that crowd was -her wailing. - -"Oh-h-h! Dear souls, dear kind souls! Don't let me die! My good -souls!..." - -Five minutes later no one remained in the street. The cook, with her -thigh broken by a shell splinter, had been carried into the kitchen. -Alpatych, his coachman, Ferapontov's wife and children and the house -porter were all sitting in the cellar, listening. The roar of guns, -the whistling of projectiles, and the piteous moaning of the cook, -which rose above the other sounds, did not cease for a moment. The -mistress rocked and hushed her baby and when anyone came into the -cellar asked in a pathetic whisper what had become of her husband -who had remained in the street. A shopman who entered told her that -her husband had gone with others to the cathedral, whence they were -fetching the wonder-working icon of Smolensk. - -Toward dusk the cannonade began to subside. Alpatych left the cellar -and stopped in the doorway. The evening sky that had been so clear was -clouded with smoke, through which, high up, the sickle of the new moon -shone strangely. Now that the terrible din of the guns had ceased a -hush seemed to reign over the town, broken only by the rustle of -footsteps, the moaning, the distant cries, and the crackle of fires -which seemed widespread everywhere. The cook's moans had now subsided. -On two sides black curling clouds of smoke rose and spread from the -fires. Through the streets soldiers in various uniforms walked or -ran confusedly in different directions like ants from a ruined -ant-hill. Several of them ran into Ferapontov's yard before Alpatych's -eyes. Alpatych went out to the gate. A retreating regiment, -thronging and hurrying, blocked the street. - -Noticing him, an officer said: "The town is being abandoned. Get -away, get away!" and then, turning to the soldiers, shouted: - -"I'll teach you to run into the yards!" - -Alpatych went back to the house, called the coachman, and told him -to set off. Ferapontov's whole household came out too, following -Alpatych and the coachman. The women, who had been silent till then, -suddenly began to wail as they looked at the fires- the smoke and even -the flames of which could be seen in the failing twilight- and as if -in reply the same kind of lamentation was heard from other parts of -the street. Inside the shed Alpatych and the coachman arranged the -tangled reins and traces of their horses with trembling hands. - -As Alpatych was driving out of the gate he saw some ten soldiers -in Ferapontov's open shop, talking loudly and filling their bags and -knapsacks with flour and sunflower seeds. Just then Ferapontov -returned and entered his shop. On seeing the soldiers he was about -to shout at them, but suddenly stopped and, clutching at his hair, -burst into sobs and laughter: - -"Loot everything, lads! Don't let those devils get it!" he cried, -taking some bags of flour himself and throwing them into the street. - -Some of the soldiers were frightened and ran away, others went on -filling their bags. On seeing Alpatych, Ferapontov turned to him: - -"Russia is done for!" he cried. "Alpatych, I'll set the place on -fire myself. We're done for!..." and Ferapontov ran into the yard. - -Soldiers were passing in a constant stream along the street blocking -it completely, so that Alpatych could not pass out and had to wait. -Ferapontov's wife and children were also sitting in a cart waiting -till it was it was possible to drive out. - -Night had come. There were stars in the sky and the new moon shone -out amid the smoke that screened it. On the sloping descent to the -Dnieper Alpatych's cart and that of the innkeeper's wife, which were -slowly moving amid the rows of soldiers and of other vehicles, had -to stop. In a side street near the crossroads where the vehicles had -stopped, a house and some shops were on fire. This fire was already -burning itself out. The flames now died down and were lost in the -black smoke, now suddenly flared up again brightly, lighting up with -strange distinctness the faces of the people crowding at the -crossroads. Black figures flitted about before the fire, and through -the incessant crackling of the flames talking and shouting could be -heard. Seeing that his trap would not be able to move on for some -time, Alpatych got down and turned into the side street to look at the -fire. Soldiers were continually rushing backwards and forwards near -it, and he saw two of them and a man in a frieze coat dragging burning -beams into another yard across the street, while others carried -bundles of hay. - -Alpatych went up to a large crowd standing before a high barn -which was blazing briskly. The walls were all on fire and the back -wall had fallen in, the wooden roof was collapsing, and the rafters -were alight. The crowd was evidently watching for the roof to fall in, -and Alpatych watched for it too. - -"Alpatych!" a familiar voice suddenly hailed the old man. - -"Mercy on us! Your excellency!" answered Alpatych, immediately -recognizing the voice of his young prince. - -Prince Andrew in his riding cloak, mounted on a black horse, was -looking at Alpatych from the back of the crowd. - -"Why are you here?" he asked. - -"Your... your excellency," stammered Alpatych and broke into sobs. -"Are we really lost? Master!..." - -"Why are you here?" Prince Andrew repeated. - -At that moment the flames flared up and showed his young master's -pale worn face. Alpatych told how he had been sent there and how -difficult it was to get away. - -"Are we really quite lost, your excellency?" he asked again. - -Prince Andrew without replying took out a notebook and raising his -knee began writing in pencil on a page he tore out. He wrote to his -sister: - -"Smolensk is being abandoned. Bald Hills will be occupied by the -enemy within a week. Set off immediately for Moscow. Let me know at -once when you will start. Send by special messenger to Usvyazh." - -Having written this and given the paper to Alpatych, he told him how -to arrange for departure of the prince, the princess, his son, and the -boy's tutor, and how and where to let him know immediately. Before -he had had time to finish giving these instructions, a chief of -staff followed by a suite galloped up to him. - -"You are a colonel?" shouted the chief of staff with a German -accent, in a voice familiar to Prince Andrew. "Houses are set on -fire in your presence and you stand by! What does this mean? You -will answer for it!" shouted Berg, who was now assistant to the -chief of staff of the commander of the left flank of the infantry of -the first army, a place, as Berg said, "very agreeable and well en -evidence." - -Prince Andrew looked at him and without replying went on speaking to -Alpatych. - -"So tell them that I shall await a reply till the tenth, and if by -the tenth I don't receive news that they have all got away I shall -have to throw up everything and come myself to Bald Hills." - -"Prince," said Berg, recognizing Prince Andrew, "I only spoke -because I have to obey orders, because I always do obey exactly.... -You must please excuse me," he went on apologetically. - -Something cracked in the flames. The fire died down for a moment and -wreaths of black smoke rolled from under the roof. There was another -terrible crash and something huge collapsed. - -"Ou-rou-rou!" yelled the crowd, echoing the crash of the -collapsing roof of the barn, the burning grain in which diffused a -cakelike aroma all around. The flames flared up again, lighting the -animated, delighted, exhausted faces of the spectators. - -The man in the frieze coat raised his arms and shouted: - -"It's fine, lads! Now it's raging... It's fine!" - -"That's the owner himself," cried several voices. - -"Well then," continued Prince Andrew to Alpatych, "report to them as -I have told you"; and not replying a word to Berg who was now mute -beside him, he touched his horse and rode down the side street. - -CHAPTER V - -From Smolensk the troops continued to retreat, followed by the -enemy. On the tenth of August the regiment Prince Andrew commanded was -marching along the highroad past the avenue leading to Bald Hills. -Heat and drought had continued for more than three weeks. Each day -fleecy clouds floated across the sky and occasionally veiled the -sun, but toward evening the sky cleared again and the sun set in -reddish-brown mist. Heavy night dews alone refreshed the earth. The -unreaped corn was scorched and shed its grain. The marshes dried up. -The cattle lowed from hunger, finding no food on the sun-parched -meadows. Only at night and in the forests while the dew lasted was -there any freshness. But on the road, the highroad along which the -troops marched, there was no such freshness even at night or when -the road passed through the forest; the dew was imperceptible on the -sandy dust churned up more than six inches deep. As soon as day dawned -the march began. The artillery and baggage wagons moved noiselessly -through the deep dust that rose to the very hubs of the wheels, and -the infantry sank ankle-deep in that soft, choking, hot dust that -never cooled even at night. Some of this dust was kneaded by the -feet and wheels, while the rest rose and hung like a cloud over the -troops, settling in eyes, ears, hair, and nostrils, and worst of all -in the lungs of the men and beasts as they moved along that road. -The higher the sun rose the higher rose that cloud of dust, and -through the screen of its hot fine particles one could look with naked -eye at the sun, which showed like a huge crimson ball in the unclouded -sky. There was no wind, and the men choked in that motionless -atmosphere. They marched with handkerchiefs tied over their noses -and mouths. When they passed through a village they all rushed to -the wells and fought for the water and drank it down to the mud. - -Prince Andrew was in command of a regiment, and the management of -that regiment, the welfare of the men and the necessity of receiving -and giving orders, engrossed him. The burning of Smolensk and its -abandonment made an epoch in his life. A novel feeling of anger -against the foe made him forget his own sorrow. He was entirely -devoted to the affairs of his regiment and was considerate and kind to -his men and officers. In the regiment they called him "our prince," -were proud of him and loved him. But he was kind and gentle only to -those of his regiment, to Timokhin and the like- people quite new to -him, belonging to a different world and who could not know and -understand his past. As soon as he came across a former acquaintance -or anyone from the staff, he bristled up immediately and grew -spiteful, ironical, and contemptuous. Everything that reminded him -of his past was repugnant to him, and so in his relations with that -former circle he confined himself to trying to do his duty and not -to be unfair. - -In truth everything presented itself in a dark and gloomy light to -Prince Andrew, especially after the abandonment of Smolensk on the -sixth of August (he considered that it could and should have been -defended) and after his sick father had had to flee to Moscow, -abandoning to pillage his dearly beloved Bald Hills which he had built -and peopled. But despite this, thanks to his regiment, Prince Andrew -had something to think about entirely apart from general questions. -Two days previously he had received news that his father, son, and -sister had left for Moscow; and though there was nothing for him to do -at Bald Hills, Prince Andrew with a characteristic desire to foment -his own grief decided that he must ride there. - -He ordered his horse to be saddled and, leaving his regiment on -the march, rode to his father's estate where he had been born and -spent his childhood. Riding past the pond where there used always to -be dozens of women chattering as they rinsed their linen or beat it -with wooden beetles, Prince Andrew noticed that there was not a soul -about and that the little washing wharf, torn from its place and -half submerged, was floating on its side in the middle of the pond. He -rode to the keeper's lodge. No one at the stone entrance gates of -the drive and the door stood open. Grass had already begun to grow -on the garden paths, and horses and calves were straying in the -English park. Prince Andrew rode up to the hothouse; some of the glass -panes were broken, and of the trees in tubs some were overturned and -others dried up. He called for Taras the gardener, but no one replied. -Having gone round the corner of the hothouse to the ornamental garden, -he saw that the carved garden fence was broken and branches of the -plum trees had been torn off with the fruit. An old peasant whom -Prince Andrew in his childhood had often seen at the gate was -sitting on a green garden seat, plaiting a bast shoe. - -He was deaf and did not hear Prince Andrew ride up. He was sitting -on the seat the old prince used to like to sit on, and beside him -strips of bast were hanging on the broken and withered branch of a -magnolia. - -Prince Andrew rode up to the house. Several limes in the old -garden had been cut down and a piebald mare and her foal were -wandering in front of the house among the rosebushes. The shutters -were all closed, except at one window which was open. A little serf -boy, seeing Prince Andrew, ran into the house. Alpatych, having sent -his family away, was alone at Bald Hills and was sitting indoors -reading the Lives of the Saints. On hearing that Prince Andrew had -come, he went out with his spectacles on his nose, buttoning his coat, -and, hastily stepping up, without a word began weeping and kissing -Prince Andrew's knee. - -Then, vexed at his own weakness, he turned away and began to -report on the position of affairs. Everything precious and valuable -had been removed to Bogucharovo. Seventy quarters of grain had also -been carted away. The hay and the spring corn, of which Alpatych -said there had been a remarkable crop that year, had been commandeered -by the troops and mown down while still green. The peasants were -ruined; some of them too had gone to Bogucharovo, only a few remained. - -Without waiting to hear him out, Prince Andrew asked: - -"When did my father and sister leave?" meaning when did they leave -for Moscow. - -Alpatych, understanding the question to refer to their departure for -Bogucharovo, replied that they had left on the seventh and again -went into details concerning the estate management, asking for -instructions. - -"Am I to let the troops have the oats, and to take a receipt for -them? We have still six hundred quarters left," he inquired. - -"What am I to say to him?" thought Prince Andrew, looking down on -the old man's bald head shining in the sun and seeing by the -expression on his face that the old man himself understood how -untimely such questions were and only asked them to allay his grief. - -"Yes, let them have it," replied Prince Andrew. - -"If you noticed some disorder in the garden," said Alpatych, "it was -impossible to prevent it. Three regiments have been here and spent the -night, dragoons mostly. I took down the name and rank of their -commanding officer, to hand in a complaint about it." - -"Well, and what are you going to do? Will you stay here if the enemy -occupies the place?" asked Prince Andrew. - -Alpatych turned his face to Prince Andrew, looked at him, and -suddenly with a solemn gesture raised his arm. - -"He is my refuge! His will be done!" he exclaimed. - -A group of bareheaded peasants was approaching across the meadow -toward the prince. - -"Well, good-by!" said Prince Andrew, bending over to Alpatych. -"You must go away too, take away what you can and tell the serfs to go -to the Ryazan estate or to the one near Moscow." - -Alpatych clung to Prince Andrew's leg and burst into sobs. Gently -disengaging himself, the prince spurred his horse and rode down the -avenue at a gallop. - -The old man was still sitting in the ornamental garden, like a fly -impassive on the face of a loved one who is dead, tapping the last -on which he was making the bast shoe, and two little girls, running -out from the hot house carrying in their skirts plums they had plucked -from the trees there, came upon Prince Andrew. On seeing the young -master, the elder one frightened look clutched her younger companion -by the hand and hid with her behind a birch tree, not stopping to pick -up some green plums they had dropped. - -Prince Andrew turned away with startled haste, unwilling to let them -see that they had been observed. He was sorry for the pretty -frightened little girl, was afraid of looking at her, and yet felt -an irresistible desire to do so. A new sensation of comfort and relief -came over him when, seeing these girls, he realized the existence of -other human interests entirely aloof from his own and just as -legitimate as those that occupied him. Evidently these girls -passionately desired one thing- to carry away and eat those green -plums without being caught- and Prince Andrew shared their wish for -the success of their enterprise. He could not resist looking at them -once more. Believing their danger past, they sprang from their -ambush and, chirruping something in their shrill little voices and -holding up their skirts, their bare little sunburned feet scampered -merrily and quickly across the meadow grass. - -Prince Andrew was somewhat refreshed by having ridden off the -dusty highroad along which the troops were moving. But not far from -Bald Hills he again came out on the road and overtook his regiment -at its halting place by the dam of a small pond. It was past one -o'clock. The sun, a red ball through the dust, burned and scorched his -back intolerably through his black coat. The dust always hung -motionless above the buzz of talk that came from the resting troops. -There was no wind. As he crossed the dam Prince Andrew smelled the -ooze and freshness of the pond. He longed to get into that water, -however dirty it might be, and he glanced round at the pool from -whence came sounds of shrieks and laughter. The small, muddy, green -pond had risen visibly more than a foot, flooding the dam, because -it was full of the naked white bodies of soldiers with brick-red -hands, necks, and faces, who were splashing about in it. All this -naked white human flesh, laughing and shrieking, floundered about in -that dirty pool like carp stuffed into a watering can, and the -suggestion of merriment in that floundering mass rendered it specially -pathetic. - -One fair-haired young soldier of the third company, whom Prince -Andrew knew and who had a strap round the calf of one leg, crossed -himself, stepped back to get a good run, and plunged into the water; -another, a dark noncommissioned officer who was always shaggy, stood -up to his waist in the water joyfully wriggling his muscular figure -and snorted with satisfaction as he poured the water over his head -with hands blackened to the wrists. There were sounds of men -slapping one another, yelling, and puffing. - -Everywhere on the bank, on the dam, and in the pond, there was -healthy, white, muscular flesh. The officer, Timokhin, with his red -little nose, standing on the dam wiping himself with a towel, felt -confused at seeing the prince, but made up his mind to address him -nevertheless. - -"It's very nice, your excellency! Wouldn't you like to?" said he. - -"It's dirty," replied Prince Andrew, making a grimace. - -"We'll clear it out for you in a minute," said Timokhin, and, -still undressed, ran off to clear the men out of the pond. - -"The prince wants to bathe." - -"What prince? Ours?" said many voices, and the men were in such -haste to clear out that the prince could hardly stop them. He -decided that he would rather himself with water in the barn. - -"Flesh, bodies, cannon fodder!" he thought, and he looked at his own -naked body and shuddered, not from cold but from a sense of disgust -and horror he did not himself understand, aroused by the sight of that -immense number of bodies splashing about in the dirty pond. - -On the seventh of August Prince Bagration wrote as follows from -his quarters at Mikhaylovna on the Smolensk road: - -Dear Count Alexis Andreevich- (He was writing to Arakcheev but -knew that his letter would be read by the Emperor, and therefore -weighed every word in it to the best of his ability.) - -I expect the Minister [Barclay de Tolly] has already reported the -abandonment of Smolensk to the enemy. It is pitiable and sad, and -the whole army is in despair that this most important place has been -wantonly abandoned. I, for my part, begged him personally most -urgently and finally wrote him, but nothing would induce him to -consent. I swear to you on my honor that Napoleon was in such a fix as -never before and might have lost half his army but could not have -taken Smolensk. Our troops fought, and are fighting, as never -before. With fifteen thousand men I held the enemy at bay for -thirty-five hours and beat him; but he would not hold out even for -fourteen hours. It is disgraceful, a stain on our army, and as for -him, he ought, it seems to me, not to live. If he reports that our -losses were great, it is not true; perhaps about four thousand, not -more, and not even that; but even were they ten thousand, that's -war! But the enemy has lost masses... - -What would it have cost him to hold out for another two days? They -would have had to retire of their own accord, for they had no water -for men or horses. He gave me his word he would not retreat, but -suddenly sent instructions that he was retiring that night. We -cannot fight in this way, or we may soon bring the enemy to Moscow... - -There is a rumor that you are thinking of peace. God forbid that you -should make peace after all our sacrifices and such insane retreats! -You would set all Russia against you and every one of us would feel -ashamed to wear the uniform. If it has come to this- we must fight -as long as Russia can and as long as there are men able to stand... - -One man ought to be in command, and not two. Your Minister may -perhaps be good as a Minister, but as a general he is not merely bad -but execrable, yet to him is entrusted the fate of our whole -country.... I am really frantic with vexation; forgive my writing -boldly. It is clear that the man who advocates the conclusion of a -peace, and that the Minister should command the army, does not love -our sovereign and desires the ruin of us all. So I write you -frankly: call out the militia. For the Minister is leading these -visitors after him to Moscow in a most masterly way. The whole army -feels great suspicion of the Imperial aide-de-camp Wolzogen. He is -said to be more Napoleon's man than ours, and he is always advising -the Minister. I am not merely civil to him but obey him like a -corporal, though I am his senior. This is painful, but, loving my -benefactor and sovereign, I submit. Only I am sorry for the Emperor -that he entrusts our fine army to such as he. Consider that on our -retreat we have lost by fatigue and left in the hospital more than -fifteen thousand men, and had we attacked this would not have -happened. Tell me, for God's sake, what will Russia, our mother -Russia, say to our being so frightened, and why are we abandoning -our good and gallant Fatherland to such rabble and implanting feelings -of hatred and shame in all our subjects? What are we scared at and -of whom are we afraid? I am not to blame that the Minister is -vacillating, a coward, dense, dilatory, and has all bad qualities. The -whole army bewails it and calls down curses upon him... - -CHAPTER VI - -Among the innumerable categories applicable to the phenomena of -human life one may discriminate between those in which substance -prevails and those in which form prevails. To the latter- as -distinguished from village, country, provincial, or even Moscow -life- we may allot Petersburg life, and especially the life of its -salons. That life of the salons is unchanging. Since the year 1805 -we had made peace and had again quarreled with Bonaparte and had -made constitutions and unmade them again, but the salons of Anna -Pavlovna Helene remained just as they had been- the one seven and -the other five years before. At Anna Pavlovna's they talked with -perplexity of Bonaparte's successes just as before and saw in them and -in the subservience shown to him by the European sovereigns a -malicious conspiracy, the sole object of which was to cause -unpleasantness and anxiety to the court circle of which Anna -Pavlovna was the representative. And in Helene's salon, which -Rumyantsev himself honored with his visits, regarding Helene as a -remarkably intelligent woman, they talked with the same ecstasy in -1812 as in 1808 of the "great nation" and the "great man," and -regretted our rupture with France, a rupture which, according to them, -ought to be promptly terminated by peace. - -Of late, since the Emperor's return from the army, there had been -some excitement in these conflicting salon circles and some -demonstrations of hostility to one another, but each camp retained its -own tendency. In Anna Pavlovna's circle only those Frenchmen were -admitted who were deep-rooted legitimists, and patriotic views were -expressed to the effect that one ought not to go to the French theater -and that to maintain the French troupe was costing the government as -much as a whole army corps. The progress of the war was eagerly -followed, and only the reports most flattering to our army were -circulated. In the French circle of Helene and Rumyantsev the -reports of the cruelty of the enemy and of the war were contradicted -and all Napoleon's attempts at conciliation were discussed. In that -circle they discountenanced those who advised hurried preparations for -a removal to Kazan of the court and the girls' educational -establishments under the patronage of the Dowager Empress. In Helene's -circle the war in general was regarded as a series of formal -demonstrations which would very soon end in peace, and the view -prevailed expressed by Bilibin- who now in Petersburg was quite at -home in Helene's house, which every clever man was obliged to visit- -that not by gunpowder but by those who invented it would matters be -settled. In that circle the Moscow enthusiasm- news of which had -reached Petersburg simultaneously with the Emperor's return- was -ridiculed sarcastically and very cleverly, though with much caution. - -Anna Pavlovna's circle on the contrary was enraptured by this -enthusiasm and spoke of it as Plutarch speaks of the deeds of the -ancients. Prince Vasili, who still occupied his former important -posts, formed a connecting link between these two circles. He -visited his "good friend Anna Pavlovna" as well as his daughter's -"diplomatic salon," and often in his constant comings and goings -between the two camps became confused and said at Helene's what he -should have said at Anna Pavlovna's and vice versa. - -Soon after the Emperor's return Prince Vasili in a conversation -about the war at Anna Pavlovna's severely condemned Barclay de -Tolly, but was undecided as to who ought to be appointed commander -in chief. One of the visitors, usually spoken of as "a man of great -merit," having described how he had that day seen Kutuzov, the newly -chosen chief of the Petersburg militia, presiding over the -enrollment of recruits at the Treasury, cautiously ventured to suggest -that Kutuzov would be the man to satisfy all requirements. - -Anna Pavlovna remarked with a melancholy smile that Kutuzov had done -nothing but cause the Emperor annoyance. - -"I have talked and talked at the Assembly of the Nobility," Prince -Vasili interrupted, "but they did not listen to me. I told them his -election as chief of the militia would not please the Emperor. They -did not listen to me. - -"It's all this mania for opposition," he went on. "And who for? It -is all because we want to ape the foolish enthusiasm of those -Muscovites," Prince Vasili continued, forgetting for a moment that -though at Helene's one had to ridicule the Moscow enthusiasm, at -Anna Pavlovna's one had to be ecstatic about it. But he retrieved -his mistake at once. "Now, is it suitable that Count Kutuzov, the -oldest general in Russia, should preside at that tribunal? He will get -nothing for his pains! How could they make a man commander in chief -who cannot mount a horse, who drops asleep at a council, and has the -very worst morals! A good reputation he made for himself at Bucharest! -I don't speak of his capacity as a general, but at a time like this -how they appoint they appoint a decrepit, blind old man, positively -blind? A fine idea to have a blind general! He can't see anything. -To play blindman's bluff? He can't see at all!" - -No one replied to his remarks. - -This was quite correct on the twenty-fourth of July. But on the -twenty-ninth of July Kutuzov received the title of Prince. This -might indicate a wish to get rid of him, and therefore Prince Vasili's -opinion continued to be correct though he was not now in any hurry -to express it. But on the eighth of August a committee, consisting -of Field Marshal Saltykov, Arakcheev, Vyazmitinov, Lopukhin, and -Kochubey met to consider the progress of the war. This committee -came to the conclusion that our failures were due to a want of unity -in the command and though the members of the committee were aware of -the Emperor's dislike of Kutuzov, after a short deliberation they -agreed to advise his appointment as commander in chief. That same -day Kutuzov was appointed commander in chief with full powers over the -armies and over the whole region occupied by them. - -On the ninth of August Prince Vasili at Anna Pavlovna's again met -the "man of great merit." The latter was very attentive to Anna -Pavlovna because he wanted to be appointed director of one of the -educational establishments for young ladies. Prince Vasili entered the -room with the air of a happy conqueror who has attained the object -of his desires. - -"Well, have you heard the great news? Prince Kutuzov is field -marshal! All dissensions are at an end! I am so glad, so delighted! At -last we have a man!" said he, glancing sternly and significantly round -at everyone in the drawing room. - -The "man of great merit," despite his desire to obtain the post of -director, could not refrain from reminding Prince Vasili of his former -opinion. Though this was impolite to Prince Vasili in Anna -Pavlovna's drawing room, and also to Anna Pavlovna herself who had -received the news with delight, he could not resist the temptation. - -"But, Prince, they say he is blind!" said he, reminding Prince -Vasili of his own words. - -"Eh? Nonsense! He sees well enough," said Prince Vasili rapidly, -in a deep voice and with a slight cough- the voice and cough with -which he was wont to dispose of all difficulties. - -"He sees well enough," he added. "And what I am so pleased about," -he went on, "is that our sovereign has given him full powers over -all the armies and the whole region- powers no commander in chief ever -had before. He is a second autocrat," he concluded with a victorious -smile. - -"God grant it! God grant it!" said Anna Pavlovna. - -The "man of great merit," who was still a novice in court circles, -wishing to flatter Anna Pavlovna by defending her former position on -this question, observed: - -"It is said that the Emperor was reluctant to give Kutuzov those -powers. They say he blushed like a girl to whom Joconde is read, -when he said to Kutuzov: 'Your Emperor and the Fatherland award you -this honor.' - -"Perhaps the heart took no part in that speech," said Anna Pavlovna. - -"Oh, no, no!" warmly rejoined Prince Vasili, who would not now yield -Kutuzov to anyone; in his opinion Kutuzov was not only admirable -himself, but was adored by everybody. "No, that's impossible," said -he, "for our sovereign appreciated him so highly before." - -"God grant only that Prince Kutuzov assumes real power and does -not allow anyone to put a spoke in his wheel," observed Anna Pavlovna. - -Understanding at once to whom she alluded, Prince Vasili said in a -whisper: - -"I know for a fact that Kutuzov made it an absolute condition that -the Tsarevich should not be with the army. Do you know what he said to -the Emperor?" - -And Prince Vasili repeated the words supposed to have been spoken by -Kutuzov to the Emperor. "I can neither punish him if he does wrong nor -reward him if he does right." - -"Oh, a very wise man is Prince Kutuzov! I have known him a long -time!" - -"They even say," remarked the "man of great merit" who did not yet -possess courtly tact, "that his excellency made it an express -condition that the sovereign himself should not be with the army." - -As soon as he said this both Prince Vasili and Anna Pavlovna -turned away from him and glanced sadly at one another with a sigh at -his naivete. - -CHAPTER VII - -While this was taking place in Petersburg the French had already -passed Smolensk and were drawing nearer and nearer to Moscow. -Napoleon's historian Thiers, like other of his historians, trying to -justify his hero says that he was drawn to the walls of Moscow against -his will. He is as right as other historians who look for the -explanation of historic events in the will of one man; he is as -right as the Russian historians who maintain that Napoleon was drawn -to Moscow by the skill of the Russian commanders. Here besides the law -of retrospection, which regards all the past as a preparation for -events that subsequently occur, the law of reciprocity comes in, -confusing the whole matter. A good chessplayer having lost a game is -sincerely convinced that his loss resulted from a mistake he made -and looks for that mistake in the opening, but forgets that at each -stage of the game there were similar mistakes and that none of his -moves were perfect. He only notices the mistake to which he pays -attention, because his opponent took advantage of it. How much more -complex than this is the game of war, which occurs under certain -limits of time, and where it is not one will that manipulates lifeless -objects, but everything results from innumerable conflicts of -various wills! - -After Smolensk Napoleon sought a battle beyond Dorogobuzh at Vyazma, -and then at Tsarevo-Zaymishche, but it happened that owing to a -conjunction of innumerable circumstances the Russians could not give -battle till they reached Borodino, seventy miles from Moscow. From -Vyazma Napoleon ordered a direct advance on Moscow. - -Moscou, la capitale asiatique de ce grand empire, la ville sacree -des peuples d'Alexandre, Moscou avec ses innombrables eglises en forme -de pagodes chinoises,~{ "Moscow, the Asiatic capital of this great empire, the sacred -city of Alexander's people, Moscow with its innumerable churches -shaped like Chinese pagodas." }~ this Moscow gave Napoleon's imagination no -rest. On the march from Vyazma to Tsarevo-Zaymishche he rode his light -bay bobtailed ambler accompanied by his Guards, his bodyguard, his -pages, and aides-de-camp. Berthier, his chief of staff, dropped behind -to question a Russian prisoner captured by the cavalry. Followed by -Lelorgne d'Ideville, an interpreter, he overtook Napoleon at a -gallop and reined in his horse with an amused expression. - -"Well?" asked Napoleon. - -"One of Platov's Cossacks says that Platov's corps is joining up -with the main army and that Kutuzov has been appointed commander in -chief. He is a very shrewd and garrulous fellow." - -Napoleon smiled and told them to give the Cossack a horse and -bring the man to him. He wished to talk to him himself. Several -adjutants galloped off, and an hour later, Lavrushka, the serf Denisov -had handed over to Rostov, rode up to Napoleon in an orderly's -jacket and on a French cavalry saddle, with a merry, and tipsy face. -Napoleon told him to ride by his side and began questioning him. - -"You are a Cossack?" - -"Yes, a Cossack, your Honor." - -"The Cossack, not knowing in what company he was, for Napoleon's -plain appearance had nothing about it that would reveal to an Oriental -mind the presence of a monarch, talked with extreme familiarity of the -incidents of the war," says Thiers, narrating this episode. In reality -Lavrushka, having got drunk the day before and left his master -dinnerless, had been whipped and sent to the village in quest of -chickens, where he engaged in looting till the French took him -prisoner. Lavrushka was one of those coarse, bare-faced lackeys who -have seen all sorts of things, consider it necessary to do -everything in a mean and cunning way, are ready to render any sort -of service to their master, and are keen at guessing their master's -baser impulses, especially those prompted by vanity and pettiness. - -Finding himself in the company of Napoleon, whose identity he had -easily and surely recognized, Lavrushka was not in the least abashed -but merely did his utmost to gain his new master's favor. - -He knew very well that this was Napoleon, but Napoleon's presence -could no more intimidate him than Rostov's, or a sergeant major's with -the rods, would have done, for he had nothing that either the sergeant -major or Napoleon could deprive him of. - -So he rattled on, telling all the gossip he had heard among the -orderlies. Much of it true. But when Napoleon asked him whether the -Russians thought they would beat Bonaparte or not, Lavrushka screwed -up his eyes and considered. - -In this question he saw subtle cunning, as men of his type see -cunning in everything, so he frowned and did not answer immediately. - -"It's like this," he said thoughtfully, "if there's a battle soon, -yours will win. That's right. But if three days pass, then after that, -well, then that same battle will not soon be over." - -Lelorgne d'Ideville smilingly interpreted this speech to Napoleon -thus: "If a battle takes place within the next three days the French -will win, but if later, God knows what will happen." Napoleon did -not smile, though he was evidently in high good humor, and he -ordered these words to be repeated. - -Lavrushka noticed this and to entertain him further, pretending -not to know who Napoleon was, added: - -"We know that you have Bonaparte and that he has beaten everybody in -the world, but we are a different matter..."- without knowing why or -how this bit of boastful patriotism slipped out at the end. - -The interpreter translated these words without the last phrase, -and Bonaparte smiled. "The young Cossack made his mighty -interlocutor smile," says Thiers. After riding a few paces in silence, -Napoleon turned to Berthier and said he wished to see how the news -that he was talking to the Emperor himself, to that very Emperor who -had written his immortally victorious name on the Pyramids, would -affect this enfant du Don.~{ "Child of the Don." }~ - -The fact was accordingly conveyed to Lavrushka. - -Lavrushka, understanding that this was done to perplex him and -that Napoleon expected him to be frightened, to gratify his new -masters promptly pretended to be astonished and awe-struck, opened his -eyes wide, and assumed the expression he usually put on when taken -to be whipped. "As soon as Napoleon's interpreter had spoken," says -Thiers, "the Cossack, seized by amazement, did not utter another word, -but rode on, his eyes fixed on the conqueror whose fame had reached -him across the steppes of the East. All his loquacity was suddenly -arrested and replaced by a naive and silent feeling of admiration. -Napoleon, after making the Cossack a present, had him set free like -a bird restored to its native fields." - -Napoleon rode on, dreaming of the Moscow that so appealed to his -imagination, and "the bird restored to its native fields" galloped -to our outposts, inventing on the way all that had not taken place but -that he meant to relate to his comrades. What had really taken place -he did not wish to relate because it seemed to him not worth -telling. He found the Cossacks, inquired for the regiment operating -with Platov's detachment and by evening found his master, Nicholas -Rostov, quartered at Yankovo. Rostov was just mounting to go for a -ride round the neighboring villages with Ilyin; he let Lavrushka -have another horse and took him along with him. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Princess Mary was not in Moscow and out of danger as Prince Andrew -supposed. - -After the return of Alpatych from Smolensk the old prince suddenly -seemed to awake as from a dream. He ordered the militiamen to be -called up from the villages and armed, and wrote a letter to the -commander in chief informing him that he had resolved to remain at -Bald Hills to the last extremity and to defend it, leaving to the -commander in chief's discretion to take measures or not for the -defense of Bald Hills, where one of Russia's oldest generals would -be captured or killed, and he announced to his household that he would -remain at Bald Hills. - -But while himself remaining, he gave instructions for the -departure of the princess and Dessalles with the little prince to -Bogucharovo and thence to Moscow. Princess Mary, alarmed by her -father's feverish and sleepless activity after his previous apathy, -could not bring herself to leave him alone and for the first time in -her life ventured to disobey him. She refused to go away and her -father's fury broke over her in a terrible storm. He repeated every -injustice he had ever inflicted on her. Trying to convict her, he told -her she had worn him out, had caused his quarrel with his son, had -harbored nasty suspicions of him, making it the object of her life -to poison his existence, and he drove her from his study telling her -that if she did not go away it was all the same to him. He declared -that he did not wish to remember her existence and warned her not to -dare to let him see her. The fact that he did not, as she had -feared, order her to be carried away by force but only told her not to -let him see her cheered Princess Mary. She knew it was a proof that in -the depth of his soul he was glad she was remaining at home and had -not gone away. - -The morning after little Nicholas had left, the old prince donned -his full uniform and prepared to visit the commander in chief. His -caleche was already at the door. Princess Mary saw him walk out of the -house in his uniform wearing all his orders and go down the garden -to review his armed peasants and domestic serfs. She sat by the window -listening to his voice which reached her from the garden. Suddenly -several men came running up the avenue with frightened faces. - -Princess Mary ran out to the porch, down the flower-bordered path, -and into the avenue. A large crowd of militiamen and domestics were -moving toward her, and in their midst several men were supporting by -the armpits and dragging along a little old man in a uniform and -decorations. She ran up to him and, in the play of the sunlight that -fell in small round spots through the shade of the lime-tree avenue, -could not be sure what change there was in his face. All she could see -was that his former stern and determined expression had altered to one -of timidity and submission. On seeing his daughter he moved his -helpless lips and made a hoarse sound. It was impossible to make out -what he wanted. He was lifted up, carried to his study, and laid on -the very couch he had so feared of late. - -The doctor, who was fetched that same night, bled him and said -that the prince had had seizure a paralyzing his right side. - -It was becoming more and more dangerous to remain at Bald Hills, and -next day they moved the prince to Bogucharovo, the doctor accompanying -him. - -By the time they reached Bogucharovo, Dessalles and the little -prince had already left for Moscow. - -For three weeks the old prince lay stricken by paralysis in the -new house Prince Andrew had built at Bogucharovo, ever in the same -state, getting neither better nor worse. He was unconscious and lay -like a distorted corpse. He muttered unceasingly, his eyebrows and -lips twitching, and it was impossible to tell whether he understood -what was going on around him or not. One thing was certain- that he -was suffering and wished to say something. But what it was, no one -could tell: it might be some caprice of a sick and half-crazy man, -or it might relate to public affairs, or possibly to family concerns. - -The doctor said this restlessness did not mean anything and was -due to physical causes; but Princess Mary thought he wished to tell -her something, and the fact that her presence always increased his -restlessness confirmed her opinion. - -He was evidently suffering both physically and mentally. There was -no hope of recovery. It was impossible for him to travel, it would not -do to let him die on the road. "Would it not be better if the end -did come, the very end?" Princess Mary sometimes thought. Night and -day, hardly sleeping at all, she watched him and, terrible to say, -often watched him not with hope of finding signs of improvement but -wishing to find symptoms of the approach of the end. - -Strange as it was to her to acknowledge this feeling in herself, yet -there it was. And what seemed still more terrible to her was that -since her father's illness began (perhaps even sooner, when she stayed -with him expecting something to happen), all the personal desires -and hopes that had been forgotten or sleeping within her had awakened. -Thoughts that had not entered her mind for years- thoughts of a life -free from the fear of her father, and even the possibility of love and -of family happiness- floated continually in her imagination like -temptations of the devil. Thrust them aside as she would, questions -continually recurred to her as to how she would order her life now, -after that. These were temptations of the devil and Princess Mary knew -it. She knew that the sole weapon against him was prayer, and she -tried to pray. She assumed an attitude of prayer, looked at the icons, -repeated the words of a prayer, but she could not pray. She felt -that a different world had now taken possession of her- the life of -a world of strenuous and free activity, quite opposed to the spiritual -world in which till now she had been confined and in which her -greatest comfort had been prayer. She could not pray, could not -weep, and worldly cares took possession of her. - -It was becoming dangerous to remain in Bogucharovo. News of the -approach of the French came from all sides, and in one village, ten -miles from Bogucharovo, a homestead had been looted by French -marauders. - -The doctor insisted on the necessity of moving the prince; the -provincial Marshal of the Nobility sent an official to Princess Mary -to persuade her to get away as quickly as possible, and the head of -the rural police having come to Bogucharovo urged the same thing, -saying that the French were only some twenty-five miles away, that -French proclamations were circulating in the villages, and that if the -princess did not take her father away before the fifteenth, he could -not answer for the consequences. - -The princess decided to leave on the fifteenth. The cares of -preparation and giving orders, for which everyone came to her, -occupied her all day. She spent the night of the fourteenth as -usual, without undressing, in the room next to the one where the -prince lay. Several times, waking up, she heard his groans and -muttering, the creak of his bed, and the steps of Tikhon and the -doctor when they turned him over. Several times she listened at the -door, and it seemed to her that his mutterings were louder than -usual and that they turned him over oftener. She could not sleep and -several times went to the door and listened, wishing to enter but -not deciding to do so. Though he did not speak, Princess Mary saw -and knew how unpleasant every sign of anxiety on his account was to -him. She had noticed with what dissatisfaction he turned from the look -she sometimes involuntarily fixed on him. She knew that her going in -during the night at an unusual hour would irritate him. - -But never had she felt so grieved for him or so much afraid of -losing him. She recalled all her life with him and in every word and -act of his found an expression of his love of her. Occasionally amid -these memories temptations of the devil would surge into her -imagination: thoughts of how things would be after his death, and -how her new, liberated life would be ordered. But she drove these -thoughts away with disgust. Toward morning he became quiet and she -fell asleep. - -She woke late. That sincerity which often comes with waking showed -her clearly what chiefly concerned her about her father's illness. -On waking she listened to what was going on behind the door and, -hearing him groan, said to herself with a sigh that things were -still the same. - -"But what could have happened? What did I want? I want his death!" -she cried with a feeling of loathing for herself. - -She washed, dressed, said her prayers, and went out to the porch. In -front of it stood carriages without horses and things were being -packed into the vehicles. - -It was a warm, gray morning. Princess Mary stopped at the porch, -still horrified by her spiritual baseness and trying to arrange her -thoughts before going to her father. The doctor came downstairs and -went out to her. - -"He is a little better today," said he. "I was looking for you. -One can make out something of what he is saying. His head is -clearer. Come in, he is asking for you..." - -Princess Mary's heart beat so violently at this news that she grew -pale and leaned against the wall to keep from falling. To see him, -talk to him, feel his eyes on her now that her whole soul was -overflowing with those dreadful, wicked temptations, was a torment -of joy and terror. - -"Come," said the doctor. - -Princess Mary entered her father's room and went up to his bed. He -was lying on his back propped up high, and his small bony hands with -their knotted purple veins were lying on the quilt; his left eye gazed -straight before him, his right eye was awry, and his brows and lips -motionless. He seemed altogether so thin, small, and pathetic. His -face seemed to have shriveled or melted; his features had grown -smaller. Princess Mary went up and kissed his hand. His left hand -pressed hers so that she understood that he had long been waiting -for her to come. He twitched her hand, and his brows and lips quivered -angrily. - -She looked at him in dismay trying to guess what he wanted of her. -When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her -face he calmed down, not taking his eyes off her for some seconds. -Then his lips and tongue moved, sounds came, and he began to speak, -gazing timidly and imploringly at her, evidently afraid that she might -not understand. - -Straining all her faculties Princess Mary looked at him. The comic -efforts with which he moved his tongue made her drop her eyes and with -difficulty repress the sobs that rose to her throat. He said -something, repeating the same words several times. She could not -understand them, but tried to guess what he was saying and inquiringly -repeated the words he uttered. - -"Mmm...ar...ate...ate..." he repeated several times. - -It was quite impossible to understand these sounds. The doctor -thought he had guessed them, and inquiringly repeated: "Mary, are -you afraid?" The prince shook his head, again repeated the same -sounds. - -"My mind, my mind aches?" questioned Princess Mary. - -He made a mumbling sound in confirmation of this, took her hand, and -began pressing it to different parts of his breast as if trying to -find the right place for it. - -"Always thoughts... about you... thoughts..." he then uttered much -more clearly than he had done before, now that he was sure of being -understood. - -Princess Mary pressed her head against his hand, trying to hide -her sobs and tears. - -He moved his hand over her hair. - -"I have been calling you all night..." he brought out. - -"If only I had known..." she said through her tears. "I was afraid -to come in." - -He pressed her hand. - -"Weren't you asleep?" - -"No, I did not sleep," said Princess Mary, shaking her head. - -Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself -as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed -to move with difficulty. - -"Dear one... Dearest..." Princess Mary could not quite make out what -he had said, but from his look it was clear that he had uttered a -tender caressing word such as he had never used to her before. "Why -didn't you come in?" - -"And I was wishing for his death!" thought Princess Mary. - -He was silent awhile. - -"Thank you... daughter dear!... for all, for all... forgive!... -thank you!... forgive!... thank you!..." and tears began to flow -from his eyes. "Call Andrew!" he said suddenly, and a childish, -timid expression of doubt showed itself on his face as he spoke. - -He himself seemed aware that his demand was meaningless. So at least -it seemed to Princess Mary. - -"I have a letter from him," she replied. - -He glanced at her with timid surprise. - -"Where is he?" - -"He's with the army, Father, at Smolensk." - -He closed his eyes and remained silent a long time. Then as if in -answer to his doubts and to confirm the fact that now he understood -and remembered everything, he nodded his head and reopened his eyes. - -"Yes," he said, softly and distinctly. "Russia has perished. They've -destroyed her." - -And he began to sob, and again tears flowed from his eyes. -Princess Mary could no longer restrain herself and wept while she -gazed at his face. - -Again he closed his eyes. His sobs ceased, he pointed to his eyes, -and Tikhon, understanding him, wiped away the tears. - -Then he again opened his eyes and said something none of them -could understand for a long time, till at last Tikhon understood and -repeated it. Princess Mary had sought the meaning of his words in -the mood in which he had just been speaking. She thought he was -speaking of Russia, or Prince Andrew, of herself, of his grandson, -or of his own death, and so she could not guess his words. - -"Put on your white dress. I like it," was what he said. - -Having understood this Princess Mary sobbed still louder, and the -doctor taking her arm led her out to the veranda, soothing her and -trying to persuade her to prepare for her journey. When she had left -the room the prince again began speaking about his son, about the war, -and about the Emperor, angrily twitching his brows and raising his -hoarse voice, and then he had a second and final stroke. - -Princess Mary stayed on the veranda. The day had cleared, it was hot -and sunny. She could understand nothing, think of nothing and feel -nothing, except passionate love for her father, love such as she -thought she had never felt till that moment. She ran out sobbing -into the garden and as far as the pond, along the avenues of young -lime trees Prince Andrew had planted. - -"Yes... I... I... I wished for his death! Yes, I wanted it to end -quicker.... I wished to be at peace.... And what will become of me? -What use will peace be when he is no longer here?" Princess Mary -murmured, pacing the garden with hurried steps and pressing her -hands to her bosom which heaved with convulsive sobs. - -When she had completed the tour of the garden, which brought her -again to the house, she saw Mademoiselle Bourienne- who had remained -at Bogucharovo and did not wish to leave it- coming toward her with -a stranger. This was the Marshal of the Nobility of the district, -who had come personally to point out to the princess the necessity for -her prompt departure. Princess Mary listened without understanding -him; she led him to the house, offered him lunch, and sat down with -him. Then, excusing herself, she went to the door of the old -prince's room. The doctor came out with an agitated face and said -she could not enter. - -"Go away, Princess! Go away... go away!" - -She returned to the garden and sat down on the grass at the foot -of the slope by the pond, where no one could see her. She did not know -how long she had been there when she was aroused by the sound of a -woman's footsteps running along the path. She rose and saw Dunyasha -her maid, who was evidently looking for her, and who stopped -suddenly as if in alarm on seeing her mistress. - -"Please come, Princess... The Prince," said Dunyasha in a breaking -voice. - -"Immediately, I'm coming, I'm coming!" replied the princess -hurriedly, not giving Dunyasha time to finish what she was saying, and -trying to avoid seeing the girl she ran toward the house. - -"Princess, it's God's will! You must be prepared for everything," -said the Marshal, meeting her at the house door. - -"Let me alone; it's not true!" she cried angrily to him. - -The doctor tried to stop her. She pushed him aside and ran to her -father's door. "Why are these people with frightened faces stopping -me? I don't want any of them! And what are they doing here?" she -thought. She opened the door and the bright daylight in that -previously darkened room startled her. In the room were her nurse -and other women. They all drew back from the bed, making way for -her. He was still lying on the bed as before, but the stern expression -of his quiet face made Princess Mary stop short on the threshold. - -"No, he's not dead- it's impossible!" she told herself and -approached him, and repressing the terror that seized her, she pressed -her lips to his cheek. But she stepped back immediately. All the force -of the tenderness she had been feeling for him vanished instantly -and was replaced by a feeling of horror at what lay there before -her. "No, he is no more! He is not, but here where he was is something -unfamiliar and hostile, some dreadful, terrifying, and repellent -mystery!" And hiding her face in her hands, Princess Mary sank into -the arms of the doctor, who held her up. - -In the presence of Tikhon and the doctor the women washed what had -been the prince, tied his head up with a handkerchief that the mouth -should not stiffen while open, and with another handkerchief tied -together the legs that were already spreading apart. Then they dressed -him in uniform with his decorations and placed his shriveled little -body on a table. Heaven only knows who arranged all this and when, but -it all got done as if of its own accord. Toward night candles were -burning round his coffin, a pall was spread over it, the floor was -strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under -his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter -reading the psalms. - -Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the -inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round -the coffin- the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women- and all -with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and -kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand. - -CHAPTER IX - -Until Prince Andrew settled in Bogucharovo its owners had always -been absentees, and its peasants were of quite a different character -from those of Bald Hills. They differed from them in speech, dress, -and disposition. They were called steppe peasants. The old prince used -to approve of them for their endurance at work when they came to -Bald Hills to help with the harvest or to dig ponds, and ditches, -but he disliked them for their boorishness. - -Prince Andrew's last stay at Bogucharovo, when he introduced -hospitals and schools and reduced the quitrent the peasants had to -pay, had not softened their disposition but had on the contrary -strengthened in them the traits of character the old prince called -boorishness. Various obscure rumors were always current among them: at -one time a rumor that they would all be enrolled as Cossacks; at -another of a new religion to which they were all to be converted; then -of some proclamation of the Tsar's and of an oath to the Tsar Paul -in 1797 (in connection with which it was rumored that freedom had been -granted them but the landowners had stopped it), then of Peter -Fedorovich's return to the throne in seven years' time, when -everything would be made free and so "simple" that there would be no -restrictions. Rumors of the war with Bonaparte and his invasion were -connected in their minds with the same sort of vague notions of -Antichrist, the end of the world, and "pure freedom." - -In the vicinity of Bogucharovo were large villages belonging to -the crown or to owners whose serfs paid quitrent and could work -where they pleased. There were very few resident landlords in the -neighborhood and also very few domestic or literate serfs, and in -the lives of the peasantry of those parts the mysterious undercurrents -in the life of the Russian people, the causes and meaning of which are -so baffling to contemporaries, were more clearly and strongly -noticeable than among others. One instance, which had occurred some -twenty years before, was a movement among the peasants to emigrate -to some unknown "warm rivers." Hundreds of peasants, among them the -Bogucharovo folk, suddenly began selling their cattle and moving in -whole families toward the southeast. As birds migrate to somewhere -beyond the sea, so these men with their wives and children streamed to -the southeast, to parts where none of them had ever been. They set off -in caravans, bought their freedom one by one or ran away, and drove or -walked toward the "warm rivers." Many of them were punished, some sent -to Siberia, many died of cold and hunger on the road, many returned of -their own accord, and the movement died down of itself just as it -had sprung up, without apparent reason. But such undercurrents still -existed among the people and gathered new forces ready to manifest -themselves just as strangely, unexpectedly, and at the same time -simply, naturally, and forcibly. Now in 1812, to anyone living in -close touch with these people it was apparent that these undercurrents -were acting strongly and nearing an eruption. - -Alpatych, who had reached Bogucharovo shortly before the old -prince's death, noticed an agitation among the peasants, and that -contrary to what was happening in the Bald Hills district, where -over a radius of forty miles all the peasants were moving away and -leaving their villages to be devastated by the Cossacks, the -peasants in the steppe region round Bogucharovo were, it was -rumored, in touch with the French, received leaflets from them that -passed from hand to hand, and did not migrate. He learned from -domestic serfs loyal to him that the peasant Karp, who possessed great -influence in the village commune and had recently been away driving -a government transport, had returned with news that the Cossacks -were destroying deserted villages, but that the French did not harm -them. Alpatych also knew that on the previous day another peasant -had even brought from the village of Visloukhovo, which was occupied -by the French, a proclamation by a French general that no harm would -be done to the inhabitants, and if they remained they would be paid -for anything taken from them. As proof of this the peasant had brought -from Visloukhovo a hundred rubles in notes (he did not know that -they were false) paid to him in advance for hay. - -More important still, Alpatych learned that on the morning of the -very day he gave the village Elder orders to collect carts to move the -princess' luggage from Bogucharovo, there had been a village meeting -at which it had been decided not to move but to wait. Yet there was no -time to waste. On the fifteenth, the day of the old prince's death, -the Marshal had insisted on Princess Mary's leaving at once, as it was -becoming dangerous. He had told her that after the sixteenth he -could not be responsible for what might happen. On the evening of -the day the old prince died the Marshal went away, promising to return -next day for the funeral. But this he was unable to do, for he -received tidings that the French had unexpectedly advanced, and had -barely time to remove his own family and valuables from his estate. - -For some thirty years Bogucharovo had been managed by the village -Elder, Dron, whom the old prince called by the diminutive "Dronushka." - -Dron was one of those physically and mentally vigorous peasants -who grow big beards as soon as they are of age and go on unchanged -till they are sixty or seventy, without a gray hair or the loss of a -tooth, as straight and strong at sixty as at thirty. - -Soon after the migration to the "warm rivers," in which he had taken -part like the rest, Dron was made village Elder and overseer of -Bogucharovo, and had since filled that post irreproachably for -twenty-three years. The peasants feared him more than they did their -master. The masters, both the old prince and the young, and the -steward respected him and jestingly called him "the Minister." -During the whole time of his service Dron had never been drunk or ill, -never after sleepless nights or the hardest tasks had he shown the -least fatigue, and though he could not read he had never forgotten a -single money account or the number of quarters of flour in any of -the endless cartloads he sold for the prince, nor a single shock of -the whole corn crop on any single acre of the Bogucharovo fields. - -Alpatych, arriving from the devastated Bald Hills estate, sent for -his Dron on the day of the prince's funeral and told him to have -twelve horses got ready for the princess' carriages and eighteen carts -for the things to be removed from Bogucharovo. Though the peasants -paid quitrent, Alpatych thought no difficulty would be made about -complying with this order, for there were two hundred and thirty -households at work in Bogucharovo and the peasants were well to do. -But on hearing the order Dron lowered his eyes and remained silent. -Alpatych named certain peasants he knew, from whom he told him to take -the carts. - -Dron replied that the horses of these peasants were away carting. -Alpatych named others, but they too, according to Dron, had no -horses available: some horses were carting for the government, -others were too weak, and others had died for want of fodder. It -seemed that no horses could be had even for the carriages, much less -for the carting. - -Alpatych looked intently at Dron and frowned. Just as Dron was a -model village Elder, so Alpatych had not managed the prince's -estates for twenty years in vain. He a model steward, possessing in -the highest degree the faculty of divining the needs and instincts -of those he dealt with. Having glanced at Dron he at once understood -that his answers did not express his personal views but the general -mood of the Bogucharovo commune, by which the Elder had already been -carried away. But he also knew that Dron, who had acquired property -and was hated by the commune, must be hesitating between the two -camps: the masters' and the serfs'. He noticed this hesitation in -Dron's look and therefore frowned and moved closer up to him. - -"Now just listen, Dronushka," said he. "Don't talk nonsense to me. -His excellency Prince Andrew himself gave me orders to move all the -people away and not leave them with the enemy, and there is an order -from the Tsar about it too. Anyone who stays is a traitor to the Tsar. -Do you hear?" - -"I hear," Dron answered without lifting his eyes. - -Alpatych was not satisfied with this reply. - -"Eh, Dron, it will turn out badly!" he said, shaking his head. - -"The power is in your hands," Dron rejoined sadly. - -"Eh, Dron, drop it!" Alpatych repeated, withdrawing his hand from -his bosom and solemnly pointing to the floor at Dron's feet. "I can -see through you and three yards into the ground under you," he -continued, gazing at the floor in front of Dron. - -Dron was disconcerted, glanced furtively at Alpatych and again -lowered his eyes. - -"You drop this nonsense and tell the people to get ready to leave -their homes and go to Moscow and to get carts ready for tomorrow -morning for the princess' things. And don't go to any meeting -yourself, do you hear?" - -Dron suddenly fell on his knees. - -"Yakov Alpatych, discharge me! Take the keys from me and discharge -me, for Christ's sake!" - -"Stop that!" cried Alpatych sternly. "I see through you and three -yards under you," he repeated, knowing that his skill in beekeeping, -his knowledge of the right time to sow the oats, and the fact that -he had been able to retain the old prince's favor for twenty years had -long since gained him the reputation of being a wizard, and that the -power of seeing three yards under a man is considered an attribute -of wizards. - -Dron got up and was about to say something, but Alpatych interrupted -him. - -"What is it you have got into your heads, eh?... What are you -thinking of, eh?" - -"What am I to do with the people?" said Dron. "They're quite -beside themselves; I have already told them..." - -"'Told them,' I dare say!" said Alpatych. "Are they drinking?" he -asked abruptly. - -"Quite beside themselves, Yakov Alpatych; they've fetched another -barrel." - -"Well, then, listen! I'll go to the police officer, and you tell -them so, and that they must stop this and the carts must be got -ready." - -"I understand." - -Alpatych did not insist further. He had managed people for a long -time and knew that the chief way to make them obey is to show no -suspicion that they can possibly disobey. Having wrung a submissive "I -understand" from Dron, Alpatych contented himself with that, though he -not only doubted but felt almost certain that without the help of -troops the carts would not be forthcoming. - -And so it was, for when evening came no carts had been provided. -In the village, outside the drink shop, another meeting was being -held, which decided that the horses should be driven out into the -woods and the carts should not be provided. Without saying anything of -this to the princess, Alpatych had his own belongings taken out of the -carts which had arrived from Bald Hills and had those horses got ready -for the princess' carriages. Meanwhile he went himself to the police -authorities. - -CHAPTER X - -After her father's funeral Princess Mary shut herself up in her room -and did not admit anyone. A maid came to the door to say that Alpatych -was asking for orders about their departure. (This was before his talk -with Dron.) Princess Mary raised herself on the sofa on which she -had been lying and replied through the closed door that she did not -mean to go away and begged to be left in peace. - -The windows of the room in which she was lying looked westward. -She lay on the sofa with her face to the wall, fingering the buttons -of the leather cushion and seeing nothing but that cushion, and her -confused thoughts were centered on one subject- the irrevocability -of death and her own spiritual baseness, which she had not -suspected, but which had shown itself during her father's illness. She -wished to pray but did not dare to, dared not in her present state -of mind address herself to God. She lay for a long time in that -position. - -The sun had reached the other side of the house, and its slanting -rays shone into the open window, lighting up the room and part of -the morocco cushion at which Princess Mary was looking. The flow of -her thoughts suddenly stopped. Unconsciously she sat up, smoothed -her hair, got up, and went to the window, involuntarily inhaling the -freshness of the clear but windy evening. - -"Yes, you can well enjoy the evening now! He is gone and no one will -hinder you," she said to herself, and sinking into a chair she let her -head fall on the window sill. - -Someone spoke her name in a soft and tender voice from the garden -and kissed her head. She looked up. It was Mademoiselle Bourienne in a -black dress and weepers. She softly approached Princess Mary, -sighed, kissed her, and immediately began to cry. The princess -looked up at her. All their former disharmony and her own jealousy -recurred to her mind. But she remembered too how he had changed of -late toward Mademoiselle Bourienne and could not bear to see her, -thereby showing how unjust were the reproaches Princess Mary had -mentally addressed to her. "Besides, is it for me, for me who -desired his death, to condemn anyone?" she thought. - -Princess Mary vividly pictured to herself the position of -Mademoiselle Bourienne, whom she had of late kept at a distance, but -who yet was dependent on her and living in her house. She felt sorry -for her and held out her hand with a glance of gentle inquiry. -Mademoiselle Bourienne at once began crying again and kissed that -hand, speaking of the princess' sorrow and making herself a partner in -it. She said her only consolation was the fact that the princess -allowed her to share her sorrow, that all the old misunderstandings -should sink into nothing but this great grief; that she felt herself -blameless in regard to everyone, and that he, from above, saw her -affection and gratitude. The princess heard her, not heeding her words -but occasionally looking up at her and listening to the sound of her -voice. - -"Your position is doubly terrible, dear princess," said Mademoiselle -Bourienne after a pause. "I understand that you could not, and cannot, -think of yourself, but with my love for you I must do so.... Has -Alpatych been to you? Has he spoken to you of going away?" she asked. - -Princess Mary did not answer. She did not understand who was to go -or where to. "Is it possible to plan or think of anything now? Is it -not all the same?" she thought, and did not reply. - -"You know, chere Marie," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, "that we are -in danger- are surrounded by the French. It would be dangerous to move -now. If we go we are almost sure to be taken prisoners, and God -knows..." - -Princess Mary looked at her companion without understanding what she -was talking about. - -"Oh, if anyone knew how little anything matters to me now," she -said. "Of course I would on no account wish to go away from him.... -Alpatych did say something about going.... Speak to him; I can do -nothing, nothing, and don't want to...." - -"I've spoken to him. He hopes we should be in time to get away -tomorrow, but I think it would now be better to stay here," said -Mademoiselle Bourienne. "Because, you will agree, chere Marie, to fall -into the hands of the soldiers or of riotous peasants would be -terrible." - -Mademoiselle Bourienne took from her reticule a proclamation (not -printed on ordinary Russian paper) of General Rameau's, telling people -not to leave their homes and that the French authorities would -afford them proper protection. She handed this to the princess. - -"I think it would be best to appeal to that general," she continued, -"and and am sure that all due respect would be shown you." - -Princess Mary read the paper, and her face began to quiver with -stifled sobs. - -"From whom did you get this?" she asked. - -"They probably recognized that I am French, by my name," replied -Mademoiselle Bourienne blushing. - -Princess Mary, with the paper in her hand, rose from the window -and with a pale face went out of the room and into what had been -Prince Andrew's study. - -"Dunyasha, send Alpatych, or Dronushka, or somebody to me!" she -said, "and tell Mademoiselle Bourienne not to come to me," she -added, hearing Mademoiselle Bourienne's voice. "We must go at once, at -once!" she said, appalled at the thought of being left in the hands of -the French. - -"If Prince Andrew heard that I was in the power of the French! -That I, the daughter of Prince Nicholas Bolkonski, asked General -Rameau for protection and accepted his favor!" This idea horrified -her, made her shudder, blush, and feel such a rush of anger and -pride as she had never experienced before. All that was distressing, -and especially all that was humiliating, in her position rose -vividly to her mind. "They, the French, would settle in this house: M. -le General Rameau would occupy Prince Andrew's study and amuse himself -by looking through and reading his letters and papers. Mademoiselle -Bourienne would do the honors of Bogucharovo for him. I should be -given a small room as a favor, the soldiers would violate my -father's newly dug grave to steal his crosses and stars, they would -tell me of their victories over the Russians, and would pretend to -sympathize with my sorrow..." thought Princess Mary, not thinking -her own thoughts but feeling bound to think like her father and her -brother. For herself she did not care where she remained or what -happened to her, but she felt herself the representative of her dead -father and of Prince Andrew. Involuntarily she thought their -thoughts and felt their feelings. What they would have said and what -they would have done she felt bound to say and do. She went into -Prince Andrew's study, trying to enter completely into his ideas, -and considered her position. - -The demands of life, which had seemed to her annihilated by her -father's death, all at once rose before her with a new, previously -unknown force and took possession of her. - -Agitated and flushed she paced the room, sending now for Michael -Ivanovich and now for Tikhon or Dron. Dunyasha, the nurse, and the -other maids could not say in how far Mademoiselle Bourienne's -statement was correct. Alpatych was not at home, he had gone to the -police. Neither could the architect Michael Ivanovich, who on being -sent for came in with sleepy eyes, tell Princess Mary anything. With -just the same smile of agreement with which for fifteen years he had -been accustomed to answer the old prince without expressing views of -his own, he now replied to Princess Mary, so that nothing definite -could be got from his answers. The old valet Tikhon, with sunken, -emaciated face that bore the stamp of inconsolable grief, replied: -"Yes, Princess" to all Princess Mary's questions and hardly -refrained from sobbing as he looked at her. - -At length Dron, the village Elder, entered the room and with a -deep bow to Princess Mary came to a halt by the doorpost. - -Princess Mary walked up and down the room and stopped in front of -him. - -"Dronushka," she said, regarding as a sure friend this Dronushka who -always used to bring a special kind of gingerbread from his visit to -the fair at Vyazma every year and smilingly offer it to her, -"Dronushka, now since our misfortune..." she began, but could not go -on. - -"We are all in God's hands," said he, with a sigh. - -They were silent for a while. - -"Dronushka, Alpatych has gone off somewhere and I have no one to -turn to. Is true, as they tell me, that I can't even go away?" - -"Why shouldn't you go away, your excellency? You can go," said Dron. - -"I was told it would be dangerous because of the enemy. Dear friend, -I can do nothing. I understand nothing. I have nobody! I want to go -away tonight or early tomorrow morning." - -Dron paused. He looked askance at Princess Mary and said: "There are -no horses; I told Yakov Alpatych so." - -"Why are there none?" asked the princess. - -"It's all God's scourge," said Dron. "What horses we had have been -taken for the army or have died- this is such a year! It's not a -case of feeding horses- we may die of hunger ourselves! As it is, some -go three days without eating. We've nothing, we've been ruined." - -Princess Mary listened attentively to what he told her. - -"The peasants are ruined? They have no bread?" she asked. - -"They're dying of hunger," said Dron. "It's not a case of carting." - -"But why didn't you tell me, Dronushka? Isn't it possible to help -them? I'll do all I can...." - -To Princess Mary it was strange that now, at a moment when such -sorrow was filling her soul, there could be rich people and poor, -and the rich could refrain from helping the poor. She had heard -vaguely that there was such a thing as "landlord's corn" which was -sometimes given to the peasants. She also knew that neither her father -nor her brother would refuse to help the peasants in need, she only -feared to make some mistake in speaking about the distribution of -the grain she wished to give. She was glad such cares presented -themselves, enabling her without scruple to forget her own grief. -She began asking Dron about the peasants' needs and what there was -in Bogucharovo that belonged to the landlord. - -"But we have grain belonging to my brother?" she said. - -"The landlord's grain is all safe," replied Dron proudly. "Our -prince did not order it to be sold." - -"Give it to the peasants, let them have all they need; I give you -leave in my brother's name," said she. - -Dron made no answer but sighed deeply. - -"Give them that corn if there is enough of it. Distribute it all. -I give this order in my brother's name; and tell them that what is -ours is theirs. We do not grudge them anything. Tell them so." - -" Dron looked intently at the princess while she was speaking. - -"Discharge me, little mother, for God's sake! Order the keys to be -taken from me," said he. "I have served twenty-three years and have -done no wrong. Discharge me, for God's sake!" - -Princess Mary did not understand what he wanted of her or why he was -asking to be discharged. She replied that she had never doubted his -devotion and that she was ready to do anything for him and for the -peasants. - -CHAPTER XI - -An hour later Dunyasha came to tell the princess that Dron had come, -and all the peasants had assembled at the barn by the princess' -order and wished to have word with their mistress. - -"But I never told them to come," said Princess Mary. "I only told -Dron to let them have the grain." - -"Only, for God's sake, Princess dear, have them sent away and -don't go out to them. It's all a trick," said Dunyasha, "and when -Yakov Alpatych returns let us get away... and please don't..." - -"What is a trick?" asked Princess Mary in surprise. - -"I know it is, only listen to me for God's sake! Ask nurse too. They -say they don't agree to leave Bogucharovo as you ordered." - -"You're making some mistake. I never ordered them to go away," -said Princess Mary. "Call Dronushka." - -Dron came and confirmed Dunyasha's words; the peasants had come by -the princess' order. - -"But I never sent for them," declared the princess. "You must have -given my message wrong. I only said that you were to give them the -grain." - -Dron only sighed in reply. - -"If you order it they will go away," said he. - -"No, no. I'll go out to them," said Princess Mary, and in spite of -the nurse's and Dunyasha's protests she went out into the porch; Dron, -Dunyasha, the nurse, and Michael Ivanovich following her. - -"They probably think I am offering them the grain to bribe them to -remain here, while I myself go away leaving them to the mercy of the -French," thought Princess Mary. "I will offer them monthly rations and -housing at our Moscow estate. I am sure Andrew would do even more in -my place," she thought as she went out in the twilight toward the -crowd standing on the pasture by the barn. - -The men crowded closer together, stirred, and rapidly took off their -hats. Princess Mary lowered her eyes and, tripping over her skirt, -came close up to them. So many different eyes, old and young, were -fixed on her, and there were so many different faces, that she could -not distinguish any of them and, feeling that she must speak to them -all at once, did not know how to do it. But again the sense that she -represented her father and her brother gave her courage, and she -boldly began her speech. - -"I am very glad you have come," she said without raising her eyes, -and feeling her heart beating quickly and violently. "Dronushka -tells me that the war has ruined you. That is our common misfortune, -and I shall grudge nothing to help you. I am myself going away because -it is dangerous here... the enemy is near... because... I am giving -you everything, my friends, and I beg you to take everything, all -our grain, so that you may not suffer want! And if you have been -told that I am giving you the grain to keep you here- that is not -true. On the contrary, I ask you to go with all your belongings to our -estate near Moscow, and I promise you I will see to it that there -you shall want for nothing. You shall be given food and lodging." - -The princess stopped. Sighs were the only sound heard in the crowd. - -"I am not doing this on my own account," she continued, "I do it -in the name of my dead father, who was a good master to you, and of my -brother and his son." - -Again she paused. No one broke the silence. - -"Ours is a common misfortune and we will share it together. All that -is mine is yours," she concluded, scanning the faces before her. - -All eyes were gazing at her with one and the same expression. She -could not fathom whether it was curiosity, devotion, gratitude, or -apprehension and distrust- but the expression on all the faces was -identical. - -"We are all very thankful for your bounty, but it won't do for us to -take the landlord's grain," said a voice at the back of the crowd. - -"But why not?" asked the princess. - -No one replied and Princess Mary, looking round at the crowd, -found that every eye she met now was immediately dropped. - -"But why don't you want to take it?" she asked again. - -No one answered. - -The silence began to oppress the princess and she tried to catch -someone's eye. - -"Why don't you speak?" she inquired of a very old man who stood just -in front of her leaning on his stick. "If you think something more -is wanted, tell me! I will do anything," said she, catching his eye. - -But as if this angered him, he bent his head quite low and muttered: - -"Why should we agree? We don't want the grain." - -"Why should we give up everything? We don't agree. Don't agree.... -We are sorry for you, but we're not willing. Go away yourself, -alone..." came from various sides of the crowd. - -And again all the faces in that crowd bore an identical -expression, though now it was certainly not an expression of curiosity -or gratitude, but of angry resolve. - -"But you can't have understood me," said Princess Mary with a sad -smile. "Why don't you want to go? I promise to house and feed you, -while here the enemy would ruin you..." - -But her voice was drowned by the voices of the crowd. - -"We're not willing. Let them ruin us! We won't take your grain. We -don't agree." - -Again Princess Mary tried to catch someone's eye, but not a single -eye in the crowd was turned to her; evidently they were all trying -to avoid her look. She felt strange and awkward. - -"Oh yes, an artful tale! Follow her into slavery! Pull down your -houses and go into bondage! I dare say! 'I'll give you grain, indeed!' -she says," voices in the crowd were heard saying. - -With drooping head Princess Mary left the crowd and went back to the -house. Having repeated her order to Dron to have horses ready for -her departure next morning, she went to her room and remained alone -with her own thoughts. - -CHAPTER XII - -For a long time that night Princess Mary sat by the open window of -her room hearing the sound of the peasants' voices that reached her -from the village, but it was not of them she was thinking. She felt -that she could not understand them however much she might think -about them. She thought only of one thing, her sorrow, which, after -the break caused by cares for the present, seemed already to belong to -the past. Now she could remember it and weep or pray. - -After sunset the wind had dropped. The night was calm and fresh. -Toward midnight the voices began to subside, a cock crowed, the full -moon began to show from behind the lime trees, a fresh white dewy mist -began to rise, and stillness reigned over the village and the house. - -Pictures of the near past- her father's illness and last moments- -rose one after another to her memory. With mournful pleasure she now -lingered over these images, repelling with horror only the last one, -the picture of his death, which she felt she could not contemplate -even in imagination at this still and mystic hour of night. And -these pictures presented themselves to her so clearly and in such -detail that they seemed now present, now past, and now future. - -She vividly recalled the moment when he had his first stroke and was -being dragged along by his armpits through the garden at Bald Hills, -muttering something with his helpless tongue, twitching his gray -eyebrows and looking uneasily and timidly at her. - -"Even then he wanted to tell me what he told me the day he died," -she thought. "He had always thought what he said then." And she -recalled in all its detail the night at Bald Hills before he had the -last stroke, when with a foreboding of disaster she had remained at -home against his will. She had not slept and had stolen downstairs -on tiptoe, and going to the door of the conservatory where he slept -that night had listened at the door. In a suffering and weary voice he -was saying something to Tikhon, speaking of the Crimea and its warm -nights and of the Empress. Evidently he had wanted to talk. "And why -didn't he call me? Why didn't he let me be there instead of Tikhon?" -Princess Mary had thought and thought again now. "Now he will never -tell anyone what he had in his soul. Never will that moment return for -him or for me when he might have said all he longed to say, and not -Tikhon but I might have heard and understood him. Why didn't I enter -the room?" she thought. "Perhaps he would then have said to me what he -said the day he died. While talking to Tikhon he asked about me twice. -He wanted to see me, and I was standing close by, outside the door. It -was sad and painful for him to talk to Tikhon who did not understand -him. I remember how he began speaking to him about Lise as if she were -alive- he had forgotten she was dead- and Tikhon reminded him that she -was no more, and he shouted, 'Fool!' He was greatly depressed. From -behind the door I heard how he lay down on his bed groaning and loudly -exclaimed, 'My God!' Why didn't I go in then? What could he have -done to me? What could I have lost? And perhaps he would then have -been comforted and would have said that word to me." And Princess Mary -uttered aloud the caressing word he had said to her on the day of -his death. "Dear-est!" she repeated, and began sobbing, with tears -that relieved her soul. She now saw his face before her. And not the -face she had known ever since she could remember and had always seen -at a distance, but the timid, feeble face she had seen for the first -time quite closely, with all its wrinkles and details, when she -stooped near to his mouth to catch what he said. - -"Dear-est!" she repeated again. - -"What was he thinking when he uttered that word? What is he thinking -now?" This question suddenly presented itself to her, and in answer -she saw him before her with the expression that was on his face as -he lay in his coffin with his chin bound up with a white handkerchief. -And the horror that had seized her when she touched him and -convinced herself that that was not he, but something mysterious and -horrible, seized her again. She tried to think of something else and -to pray, but could do neither. With wide-open eyes she gazed at the -moonlight and the shadows, expecting every moment to see his dead -face, and she felt that the silence brooding over the house and within -it held her fast. - -"Dunyasha," she whispered. "Dunyasha!" she screamed wildly, and -tearing herself out of this silence she ran to the servants' -quarters to meet her old nurse and the maidservants who came running -toward her. - -CHAPTER XIII - -On the seventeenth of August Rostov and Ilyin, accompanied by -Lavrushka who had just returned from captivity and by an hussar -orderly, left their quarters at Yankovo, ten miles from Bogucharovo, -and went for a ride- to try a new horse Ilyin had bought and to find -out whether there was any hay to be had in the villages. - -For the last three days Bogucharovo had lain between the two hostile -armies, so that it was as easy for the Russian rearguard to get to -it as for the French vanguard; Rostov, as a careful squadron -commander, wished to take such provisions as remained at Bogucharovo -before the French could get them. - -Rostov and Ilyin were in the merriest of moods. On the way to -Bogucharovo, a princely estate with a dwelling house and farm where -they hoped to find many domestic serfs and pretty girls, they -questioned Lavrushka about Napoleon and laughed at his stories, and -raced one another to try Ilyin's horse. - -Rostov had no idea that the village he was entering was the property -of that very Bolkonski who had been engaged to his sister. - -Rostov and Ilyin gave rein to their horses for a last race along the -incline before reaching Bogucharovo, and Rostov, outstripping Ilyin, -was the first to gallop into the village street. - -"You're first!" cried Ilyin, flushed. - -"Yes, always first both on the grassland and here," answered Rostov, -stroking his heated Donets horse. - -"And I'd have won on my Frenchy, your excellency," said Lavrushka -from behind, alluding to his shabby cart horse, "only I didn't wish to -mortify you. - -They rode at a footpace to the barn, where a large crowd of peasants -was standing. - -Some of the men bared their heads, others stared at the new arrivals -without doffing their caps. Two tall old peasants with wrinkled -faces and scanty beards emerged from the tavern, smiling, -staggering, and singing some incoherent song, and approached the -officers. - -"Fine fellows!" said Rostov laughing. "Is there any hay here?" - -"And how like one another," said Ilyin. - -"A mo-o-st me-r-r-y co-o-m-pa...!" sang one of the peasants with a -blissful smile. - -One of the men came out of the crowd and went up to Rostov. - -"Who do you belong to?" he asked. - -"The French," replied Ilyin jestingly, "and here is Napoleon -himself"- and he pointed to Lavrushka. - -"Then you are Russians?" the peasant asked again. - -"And is there a large force of you here?" said another, a short man, -coming up. - -"Very large," answered Rostov. "But why have you collected here?" he -added. "Is it a holiday?" - -"The old men have met to talk over the business of the commune," -replied the peasant, moving away. - -At that moment, on the road leading from the big house, two women -and a man in a white hat were seen coming toward the officers. - -"The one in pink is mine, so keep off!" said Ilyin on seeing -Dunyasha running resolutely toward him. - -"She'll be ours!" said Lavrushka to Ilyin, winking. - -"What do you want, my pretty?" said Ilyin with a smile. - -"The princess ordered me to ask your regiment and your name." - -"This is Count Rostov, squadron commander, and I am your humble -servant." - -"Co-o-om-pa-ny!" roared the tipsy peasant with a beatific smile as -he looked at Ilyin talking to the girl. Following Dunyasha, Alpatych -advanced to Rostov, having bared his head while still at a distance. - -"May I make bold to trouble your honor?" said he respectfully, but -with a shade of contempt for the youthfulness of this officer and with -a hand thrust into his bosom. "My mistress, daughter of General in -Chief Prince Nicholas Bolkonski who died on the fifteenth of this -month, finding herself in difficulties owing to the boorishness of -these people"- he pointed to the peasants- "asks you to come up to the -house.... Won't you, please, ride on a little farther," said -Alpatych with a melancholy smile, "as it is not convenient in the -presence of...?" He pointed to the two peasants who kept as close to -him as horseflies to a horse. - -"Ah!... Alpatych... Ah, Yakov Alpatych... Grand! Forgive us for -Christ's sake, eh?" said the peasants, smiling joyfully at him. - -Rostov looked at the tipsy peasants and smiled. - -"Or perhaps they amuse your honor?" remarked Alpatych with a staid -air, as he pointed at the old men with his free hand. - -"No, there's not much to be amused at here," said Rostov, and rode -on a little way. "What's the matter?" he asked. - -"I make bold to inform your honor that the rude peasants here -don't wish to let the mistress leave the estate, and threaten to -unharness her horses, so that though everything has been packed up -since morning, her excellency cannot get away." - -"Impossible!" exclaimed Rostov. - -"I have the honor to report to you the actual truth," said Alpatych. - -Rostov dismounted, gave his horse to the orderly, and followed -Alpatych to the house, questioning him as to the state of affairs. -It appeared that the princess' offer of corn to the peasants the -previous day, and her talk with Dron and at the meeting, had -actually had so bad an effect that Dron had finally given up the -keys and joined the peasants and had not appeared when Alpatych sent -for him; and that in the morning when the princess gave orders to -harness for her journey, the peasants had come in a large crowd to the -barn and sent word that they would not let her leave the village: that -there was an order not to move, and that they would unharness the -horses. Alpatych had gone out to admonish them, but was told (it was -chiefly Karp who did the talking, Dron not showing himself in the -crowd) that they could not let the princess go, that there was an -order to the contrary, but that if she stayed they would serve her -as before and obey her in everything. - -At the moment when Rostov and Ilyin were galloping along the road, -Princess Mary, despite the dissuasions of Alpatych, her nurse, and the -maids, had given orders to harness and intended to start, but when the -cavalrymen were espied they were taken for Frenchmen, the coachman ran -away, and the women in the house began to wail. - -"Father! Benefactor! God has sent you!" exclaimed deeply moved -voices as Rostov passed through the anteroom. - -Princess Mary was sitting helpless and bewildered in the large -sitting room, when Rostov was shown in. She could not grasp who he was -and why he had come, or what was happening to her. When she saw his -Russian face, and by his walk and the first words he uttered -recognized him as a man of her own class, she glanced at him with -her deep radiant look and began speaking in a voice that faltered -and trembled with emotion. This meeting immediately struck Rostov as a -romantic event. "A helpless girl overwhelmed with grief, left to the -mercy of coarse, rioting peasants! And what a strange fate sent me -here! What gentleness and nobility there are in her features and -expression!" thought he as he looked at her and listened to her -timid story. - -When she began to tell him that all this had happened the day -after her father's funeral, her voiced trembled. She turned away, -and then, as if fearing he might take her words as meant to move him -to pity, looked at him with an apprehensive glance of inquiry. There -were tears in Rostov's eyes. Princess Mary noticed this and glanced -gratefully at him with that radiant look which caused the plainness of -her face to be forgotten. - -"I cannot express, Princess, how glad I am that I happened to ride -here and am able to show my readiness to serve you," said Rostov, -rising. "Go when you please, and I give you my word of honor that no -one shall dare to cause you annoyance if only you will allow me to act -as your escort." And bowing respectfully, as if to a lady of royal -blood, he moved toward the door. - -Rostov's deferential tone seemed to indicate that though he would -consider himself happy to be acquainted with her, he did not wish to -take advantage of her misfortunes to intrude upon her. - -Princess Mary understood this and appreciated his delicacy. - -"I am very, very grateful to you," she said in French, "but I hope -it was all a misunderstanding and that no one is to blame for it." She -suddenly began to cry. - -"Excuse me!" she said. - -Rostov, knitting his brows, left the room with another low bow. - -CHAPTER XIV - -Well, is she pretty? Ah, friend- my pink one is delicious; her -name is Dunyasha...." - -But on glancing at Rostov's face Ilyin stopped short. He saw that -his hero and commander was following quite a different train of -thought. - -Rostov glanced angrily at Ilyin and without replying strode off with -rapid steps to the village. - -"I'll show them; I'll give it to them, the brigands!" said he to -himself. - -Alpatych at a gliding trot, only just managing not to run, kept up -with him with difficulty. - -"What decision have you been pleased to come to?" said he. - -Rostov stopped and, clenching his fists, suddenly and sternly turned -on Alpatych. - -"Decision? What decision? Old dotard!..." cried he. "What have you -been about? Eh? The peasants are rioting, and you can't manage them? -You're a traitor youself! I know you. I'll flay you all alive!..." And -as if afraid of wasting his store of anger, he left Alpatych and -went rapidly forward. Alpatych, mastering his offended feelings, -kept pace with Rostov at a gliding gait and continued to impart his -views. He said the peasants were obdurate and that at the present -moment it would be imprudent to "overresist" them without an armed -force, and would it not be better first to send for the military? - -"I'll give them armed force... I'll 'overresist' them!" uttered -Rostov meaninglessly, breathless with irrational animal fury and the -need to vent it. - -Without considering what he would do he moved unconciously with -quick, resolute steps toward the crowd. And the nearer he drew to it -the more Alpatych felt that this unreasonable action might produce -good results. The peasants in the crowd were similarly impressed -when they saw Rostov's rapid, firm steps and resolute, frowning face. - -After the hussars had come to the village and Rostov had gone to see -the princess, a certain confusion and dissension had arisen among -the crowd. Some of the peasants said that these new arrivals were -Russians and might take it amiss that the mistress was being detained. -Dron was of this opinion, but as soon as he expressed it Karp and -others attacked their ex-Elder. - -"How many years have you been fattening on the commune?" Karp -shouted at him. "It's all one to you! You'll dig up your pot of -money and take it away with you.... What does it matter to you whether -our homes are ruined or not?" - -"We've been told to keep order, and that no one is to leave their -homes or take away a single grain, and that's all about it!" cried -another. - -"It was your son's turn to be conscripted, but no fear! You -begrudged your lump of a son," a little old man suddenly began -attacking Dron- "and so they took my Vanka to be shaved for a soldier! -But we all have to die." - -"To be sure, we all have to die. I'm not against the commune," -said Dron. - -"That's it- not against it! You've filled your belly...." - -The two tall peasants had their say. As soon as Rostov, followed -by Ilyin, Lavrushka, and Alpatych, came up to the crowd, Karp, -thrusting his fingers into his belt and smiling a little, walked to -the front. Dron on the contrary retired to the rear and the crowd drew -closer together. - -"Who is your Elder here? Hey?" shouted Rostov, coming up to the -crowd with quick steps. - -"The Elder? What do you want with him?..." asked Karp. - -But before the words were well out of his mouth, his cap flew off -and a fierce blow jerked his head to one side. - -"Caps off, traitors!" shouted Rostov in a wrathful voice. "Where's -the Elder?" he cried furiously. - -"The Elder.... He wants the Elder!... Dron Zakharych, you!" meek and -flustered voices here and there were heard calling and caps began to -come off their heads. - -"We don't riot, we're following the orders," declared Karp, and at -that moment several voices began speaking together. - -"It's as the old men have decided- there's too many of you giving -orders." - -"Arguing? Mutiny!... Brigands! Traitors!" cried Rostov unmeaningly -in a voice not his own, gripping Karp by the collar. "Bind him, bind -him!" he shouted, though there was no one to bind him but Lavrushka -and Alpatych. - -Lavrushka, however, ran up to Karp and seized him by the arms from -behind. - -"Shall I call up our men from beyond the hill?" he called out. - -Alpatych turned to the peasants and ordered two of them by name to -come and bind Karp. The men obediently came out of the crowd and began -taking off their belts. - -"Where's the Elder?" demanded Rostov in a loud voice. - -With a pale and frowning face Dron stepped out of the crowd. - -"Are you the Elder? Bind him, Lavrushka!" shouted Rostov, as if that -order, too, could not possibly meet with any opposition. - -And in fact two more peasants began binding Dron, who took off his -own belt and handed it to them, as if to aid them. - -"And you all listen to me!" said Rostov to the peasants. "Be off -to your houses at once, and don't let one of your voices be heard!" - -"Why, we've not done any harm! We did it just out of foolishness. -It's all nonsense... I said then that it was not in order," voices -were heard bickering with one another. - -"There! What did I say?" said Alpatych, coming into his own again. -"It's wrong, lads!" - -"All our stupidity, Yakov Alpatych," came the answers, and the -crowd began at once to disperse through the village. - -The two bound men were led off to the master's house. The two -drunken peasants followed them. - -"Aye, when I look at you!..." said one of them to Karp. - -"How can one talk to the masters like that? What were you thinking -of, you fool?" added the other- "A real fool!" - -Two hours later the carts were standing in the courtyard of the -Bogucharovo house. The peasants were briskly carrying out the -proprietor's goods and packing them on the carts, and Dron, -liberated at Princess Mary's wish from the cupboard where he had -been confined, was standing in the yard directing the men. - -"Don't put it in so carelessly," said one of the peasants, a man -with a round smiling face, taking a casket from a housemaid. "You know -it has cost money! How can you chuck it in like that or shove it under -the cord where it'll get rubbed? I don't like that way of doing -things. Let it all be done properly, according to rule. Look here, put -it under the bast matting and cover it with hay- that's the way!" - -"Eh, books, books!" said another peasant, bringing out Prince -Andrew's library cupboards. "Don't catch up against it! It's heavy, -lads- solid books." - -"Yes, they worked all day and didn't play!" remarked the tall, -round-faced peasant gravely, pointing with a significant wink at the -dictionaries that were on the top. - -Unwilling to obtrude himself on the princess, Rostov did not go back -to the house but remained in the village awaiting her departure. -When her carriage drove out of the house, he mounted and accompanied -her eight miles from Bogucharovo to where the road was occupied by our -troops. At the inn at Yankovo he respectfully took leave of her, for -the first time permitting himself to kiss her hand. - -"How can you speak so!" he blushingly replied to Princess Mary's -expressions of gratitude for her deliverance, as she termed what had -occurred. "Any police officer would have done as much! If we had had -only peasants to fight, we should not have let the enemy come so far," -said he with a sense of shame and wishing to change the subject. "I am -only happy to have had the opportunity of making your acquaintance. -Good-by, Princess. I wish you happiness and consolation and hope to -meet you again in happier circumstances. If you don't want to make -me blush, please don't thank me!" - -But the princess, if she did not again thank him in words, thanked -him with the whole expression of her face, radiant with gratitude -and tenderness. She could not believe that there was nothing to -thank him for. On the contrary, it seemed to her certain that had he -not been there she would have perished at the hands of the mutineers -and of the French, and that he had exposed himself to terrible and -obvious danger to save her, and even more certain was it that he was a -man of lofty and noble soul, able to understand her position and her -sorrow. His kind, honest eyes, with the tears rising in them when -she herself had begun to cry as she spoke of her loss, did leave her -memory. - -When she had taken leave of him and remained alone she suddenly felt -her eyes filling with tears, and then not for the first time the -strange question presented itself to her: did she love him? - -On the rest of the way to Moscow, though the princess' position -was not a cheerful one, Dunyasha, who went with her in the carriage, -more than once noticed that her mistress leaned out of the window -and smiled at something with an expression of mingled joy and sorrow. - -"Well, supposing I do love him?" thought Princess Mary. - -Ashamed as she was of acknowledging to herself that she had fallen -in love with a man who would perhaps never love her, she comforted -herself with the thought that no one would ever know it and that she -would not be to blame if, without ever speaking of it to anyone, she -continued to the end of her life to love the man with whom she had -fallen in love for the first and last time in her life. - -Sometimes when she recalled his looks, his sympathy, and his -words, happiness did not appear impossible to her. It was at those -moments that Dunyasha noticed her smiling as she looked out of the -carriage window. - -"Was it not fate that brought him to Bogucharovo, and at that very -moment?" thought Princess Mary. "And that caused his sister to -refuse my brother?" And in all this Princess Mary saw the hand of -Providence. - -The impression the princess made on Rostov was a very agreeable one. -To remember her gave him pleasure, and when his comrades, hearing of -his adventure at Bogucharovo, rallied him on having gone to look for -hay and having picked up one of the wealthiest heiresses in Russia, he -grew angry. It made him angry just because the idea of marrying the -gentle Princess Mary, who was attractive to him and had an enormous -fortune, had against his will more than once entered his head. For -himself personally Nicholas could not wish for a better wife: by -marrying her he would make the countess his mother happy, would be -able to put his father's affairs in order, and would even- he felt it- -ensure Princess Mary's happiness. - -But Sonya? And his plighted word? That was why Rostov grew angry -when he was rallied about Princess Bolkonskaya. - -CHAPTER XV - -On receiving command of the armies Kutuzov remembered Prince -Andrew and sent an order for him to report at headquarters. - -Prince Andrew arrived at Tsarevo-Zaymishche on the very day and at -the very hour that Kutuzov was reviewing the troops for the first -time. He stopped in the village at the priest's house in front of -which stood the commander in chief's carriage, and he sat down on -the bench at the gate awaiting his Serene Highness, as everyone now -called Kutuzov. From the field beyond the village came now sounds of -regimental music and now the roar of many voices shouting "Hurrah!" to -the new commander in chief. Two orderlies, a courier and a major-domo, -stood near by, some ten paces from Prince Andrew, availing -themselves of Kutuzov's absence and of the fine weather. A short, -swarthy lieutenant colonel of hussars with thick mustaches and -whiskers rode up to the gate and, glancing at Prince Andrew, -inquired whether his Serene Highness was putting up there and -whether he would soon be back. - -Prince Andrew replied that he was not on his Serene Highness' -staff but was himself a new arrival. The lieutenant colonel turned -to a smart orderly, who, with the peculiar contempt with which a -commander in chief's orderly speaks to officers, replied: - -"What? His Serene Highness? I expect he'll be here soon. What do you -want?" - -The lieutenant colonel of hussars smiled beneath his mustache at the -orderly's tone, dismounted, gave his horse to a dispatch runner, and -approached Bolkonski with a slight bow. Bolkonski made room for him on -the bench and the lieutenant colonel sat down beside him. - -"You're also waiting for the commander in chief?" said he. "They say -he weceives evewyone, thank God!... It's awful with those sausage -eaters! Ermolov had weason to ask to be pwomoted to be a German! Now -p'waps Wussians will get a look in. As it was, devil only knows what -was happening. We kept wetweating and wetweating. Did you take part in -the campaign?" he asked. - -"I had the pleasure," replied Prince Andrew, "not only of taking -part in the retreat but of losing in that retreat all I held dear- not -to mention the estate and home of my birth- my father, who died of -grief. I belong to the province of Smolensk." - -"Ah? You're Pwince Bolkonski? Vewy glad to make your acquaintance! -I'm Lieutenant Colonel Denisov, better known as 'Vaska,'" said -Denisov, pressing Prince Andrew's hand and looking into his face -with a particularly kindly attention. "Yes, I heard," said he -sympathetically, and after a short pause added: "Yes, it's Scythian -warfare. It's all vewy well- only not for those who get it in the -neck. So you are Pwince Andwew Bolkonski?" He swayed his head. "Vewy -pleased, Pwince, to make your acquaintance!" he repeated again, -smiling sadly, and he again pressed Prince Andrew's hand. - -Prince Andrew knew Denisov from what Natasha had told him of her -first suitor. This memory carried him sadly and sweetly back to -those painful feelings of which he had not thought lately, but which -still found place in his soul. Of late he had received so many new and -very serious impressions- such as the retreat from Smolensk, his visit -to Bald Hills, and the recent news of his father's death- and had -experienced so many emotions, that for a long time past those memories -had not entered his mind, and now that they did, they did not act on -him with nearly their former strength. For Denisov, too, the -memories awakened by the name of Bolkonski belonged to a distant, -romantic past, when after supper and after Natasha's singing he had -proposed to a little girl of fifteen without realizing what he was -doing. He smiled at the recollection of that time and of his love -for Natasha, and passed at once to what now interested him -passionately and exclusively. This was a plan of campaign he had -devised while serving at the outposts during the retreat. He had -proposed that plan to Barclay de Tolly and now wished to propose it to -Kutuzov. The plan was based on the fact that the French line of -operation was to extended, and it proposed that instead of, or -concurrently with, action on the front to bar the advance of the -French, we should attack their line of communication. He began -explaining his plan to Prince Andrew. - -"They can't hold all that line. It's impossible. I will undertake to -bweak thwough. Give me five hundwed men and I will bweak the line, -that's certain! There's only one way- guewilla warfare!" - -Denisov rose and began gesticulating as he explained his plan to -Bolkonski. In the midst of his explanation shouts were heard from -the army, growing more incoherent and more diffused, mingling with -music and songs and coming from the field where the review was held. -Sounds of hoofs and shouts were nearing the village. - -"He's coming! He's coming!" shouted a Cossack standing at the gate. - -Bolkonski and Denisov moved to the gate, at which a knot of soldiers -(a guard of honor) was standing, and they saw Kutuzov coming down -the street mounted on a rather small sorrel horse. A huge suite of -generals rode behind him. Barclay was riding almost beside him, and -a crowd of officers ran after and around them shouting, "Hurrah!" - -His adjutants galloped into the yard before him. Kutuzov was -impatiently urging on his horse, which ambled smoothly under his -weight, and he raised his hand to his white Horse Guard's cap with a -red band and no peak, nodding his head continually. When he came up to -the guard of honor, a fine set of Grenadiers mostly wearing -decorations, who were giving him the salute, he looked at them -silently and attentively for nearly a minute with the steady gaze of a -commander and then turned to the crowd of generals and officers -surrounding him. Suddenly his face assumed a subtle expression, he -shrugged his shoulders with an air of perplexity. - -"And with such fine fellows to retreat and retreat! Well, good-by, -General," he added, and rode into the yard past Prince Andrew and -Denisov. - -"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted those behind him. - -Since Prince Andrew had last seen him Kutuzov had grown still more -corpulent, flaccid, and fat. But the bleached eyeball, the scar, and -the familiar weariness of his expression were still the same. He was -wearing the white Horse Guard's cap and a military overcoat with a -whip hanging over his shoulder by a thin strap. He sat heavily and -swayed limply on his brisk little horse. - -"Whew... whew... whew!" he whistled just audibly as he rode into the -yard. His face expressed the relief of relaxed strain felt by a man -who means to rest after a ceremony. He drew his left foot out of the -stirrup and, lurching with his whole body and puckering his face -with the effort, raised it with difficulty onto the saddle, leaned -on his knee, groaned, and slipped down into the arms of the Cossacks -and adjutants who stood ready to assist him. - -He pulled himself together, looked round, screwing up his eyes, -glanced at Prince Andrew, and, evidently not recognizing him, moved -with his waddling gait to the porch. "Whew... whew... whew!" he -whistled, and again glanced at Prince Andrew. As often occurs with old -men, it was only after some seconds that the impression produced by -Prince Andrew's face linked itself up with Kutuzov's remembrance of -his personality. - -"Ah, how do you do, my dear prince? How do you do, my dear boy? Come -along..." said he, glancing wearily round, and he stepped onto the -porch which creaked under his weight. - -He unbuttoned his coat and sat down on a bench in the porch. - -"And how's your father?" - -"I received news of his death, yesterday," replied Prince Andrew -abruptly. - -Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide open with dismay and then -took off his cap and crossed himself: - -"May the kingdom of Heaven be his! God's will be done to us all!" He -sighed deeply, his whole chest heaving, and was silent for a while. "I -loved him and respected him, and sympathize with you with all my -heart." - -He embraced Prince Andrew, pressing him to his fat breast, and for -some time did not let him go. When he released him Prince Andrew saw -that Kutuzov's flabby lips were trembling and that tears were in his -eyes. He sighed and pressed on the bench with both hands to raise -himself. - -"Come! Come with me, we'll have a talk," said he. - -But at that moment Denisov, no more intimidated by his superiors -than by the enemy, came with jingling spurs up the steps of the porch, -despite the angry whispers of the adjutants who tried to stop him. -Kutuzov, his hands still pressed on the seat, glanced at him glumly. -Denisov, having given his name, announced that he had to communicate -to his Serene Highness a matter of great importance for their -country's welfare. Kutuzov looked wearily at him and, lifting his -hands with a gesture of annoyance, folded them across his stomach, -repeating the words: "For our country's welfare? Well, what is it? -Speak!" Denisov blushed like a girl (it was strange to see the color -rise in that shaggy, bibulous, time-worn face) and boldly began to -expound his plan of cutting the enemy's lines of communication between -Smolensk and Vyazma. Denisov came from those parts and knew the -country well. His plan seemed decidedly a good one, especially from -the strength of conviction with which he spoke. Kutuzov looked down at -his own legs, occasionally glancing at the door of the adjoining hut -as if expecting something unpleasant to emerge from it. And from -that hut, while Denisov was speaking, a general with a portfolio under -his arm really did appear. - -"What?" said Kutuzov, in the midst of Denisov's explanations, "are -you ready so soon?" - -"Ready, your Serene Highness," replied the general. - -Kutuzov swayed his head, as much as to say: "How is one man to -deal with it all?" and again listened to Denisov. - -"I give my word of honor as a Wussian officer," said Denisov, -"that I can bweak Napoleon's line of communication!" - -"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril Andreevich -Denisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him. - -"He is my uncle, your Sewene Highness." - -"Ah, we were friends," said Kutuzov cheerfully. "All right, all -right, friend, stay here at the staff and tomorrow we'll have a talk." - -With a nod to Denisov he turned away and put out his hand for the -papers Konovnitsyn had brought him. - -"Would not your Serene Highness like to come inside?" said the -general on duty in a discontented voice, "the plans must be examined -and several papers have to be signed." - -An adjutant came out and announced that everything was in -readiness within. But Kutuzov evidently did not wish to enter that -room till he was disengaged. He made a grimace... - -"No, tell them to bring a small table out here, my dear boy. I'll -look at them here," said he. "Don't go away," he added, turning to -Prince Andrew, who remained in the porch and listened to the general's -report. - -While this was being given, Prince Andrew heard the whisper of a -woman's voice and the rustle of a silk dress behind the door. -Several times on glancing that way he noticed behind that door a -plump, rosy, handsome woman in a pink dress with a lilac silk kerchief -on her head, holding a dish and evidently awaiting the entrance of the -commander in chief. Kutiizov's adjutant whispered to Prince Andrew -that this was the wife of the priest whose home it was, and that she -intended to offer his Serene Highness bread and salt. "Her husband has -welcomed his Serene Highness with the cross at the church, and she -intends to welcome him in the house.... She's very pretty," added -the adjutant with a smile. At those words Kutuzov looked round. He was -listening to the general's report- which consisted chiefly of a -criticism of the position at Tsarevo-Zaymishche- as he had listened to -Denisov, and seven years previously had listened to the discussion -at the Austerlitz council of war. He evidently listened only because -he had ears which, though there was a piece of tow in one of them, -could not help hearing; but it was evident that nothing the general -could say would surprise or even interest him, that he knew all that -would be said beforehand, and heard it all only because he had to, -as one has to listen to the chanting of a service of prayer. All -that Denisov had said was clever and to the point. What the general -was saying was even more clever and to the point, but it was evident -that Kutuzov despised knowledge and cleverness, and knew of -something else that would decide the matter- something independent -of clever. ness and knowledge. Prince Andrew watched the commander -in chief's face attentively, and the only expression he could see -there was one of boredom, curiosity as to the meaning of the -feminine whispering behind the door, and a desire to observe -propriety. It was evident that Kutuzov despised cleverness and -learning and even the patriotic feeling shown by Denisov, but despised -them not because of his own intellect, feelings, or knowledge- he -did not try to display any of these- but because of something else. He -despised them because of his old age and experience of life. The -only instruction Kutuzov gave of his own accord during that report -referred to looting by the Russian troops. At the end of the report -the general put before him for signature a paper relating to the -recovery of payment from army commanders for green oats mown down by -the soldiers, when landowners lodged petitions for compensation. - -After hearing the matter, Kutuzov smacked his lips together and -shook his head. - -"Into the stove... into the fire with it! I tell you once for all, -my dear fellow," said he, "into the fire with all such things! Let -them cut the crops and burn wood to their hearts' content. I don't -order it or allow it, but I don't exact compensation either. One can't -get on without it. 'When wood is chopped the chips will fly.'" He -looked at the paper again. "Oh, this German precision!" he muttered, -shaking his head. - -CHAPTER XVI - -"Well, that's all!" said Kutuzov as he signed the last of the -documents, and rising heavily and smoothing out the folds in his fat -white neck he moved toward the door with a more cheerful expression. - -The priest's wife, flushing rosy red, caught up the dish she had -after all not managed to present at the right moment, though she had -so long been preparing for it, and with a low bow offered it to -Kutuzov. - -He screwed up his eyes, smiled, lifted her chin with his hand, and -said: - -"Ah, what a beauty! Thank you, sweetheart!" - -He took some gold pieces from his trouser pocket and put them on the -dish for her. "Well, my dear, and how are we getting on?" he asked, -moving to the door of the room assigned to him. The priest's wife -smiled, and with dimples in her rosy cheeks followed him into the -room. The adjutant came out to the porch and asked Prince Andrew to -lunch with him. Half an hour later Prince Andrew was again called to -Kutuzov. He found him reclining in an armchair, still in the same -unbuttoned overcoat. He had in his hand a French book which he -closed as Prince Andrew entered, marking the place with a knife. -Prince Andrew saw by the cover that it was Les Chevaliers du Cygne -by Madame de Genlis. - -"Well, sit down, sit down here. Let's have a talk," said Kutuzov. -"It's sad, very sad. But remember, my dear fellow, that I am a -father to you, a second father...." - -Prince Andrew told Kutuzov all he knew of his father's death, and -what he had seen at Bald Hills when he passed through it. - -"What... what they have brought us to!" Kutuzov suddenly cried in an -agitated voice, evidently picturing vividly to himself from Prince -Andrew's story the condition Russia was in. "But give me time, give me -time!" he said with a grim look, evidently not wishing to continue -this agitating conversation, and added: "I sent for you to keep you -with me." - -"I thank your Serene Highness, but I fear I am longer fit for the -staff," replied Prince Andrew with a smile which Kutuzov noticed. - -Kutuzov glanced inquiringly at him. - -"But above all," added Prince Andrew, "I have grown used to my -regiment, am fond of the officers, and I fancy the men also like me. I -should be sorry to leave the regiment. If I decline the honor of being -with you, believe me..." - -A shrewd, kindly, yet subtly derisive expression lit up Kutuzov's -podgy face. He cut Bolkonski short. - -"I am sorry, for I need you. But you're right, you're right! It's -not here that men are needed. Advisers are always plentiful, but men -are not. The regiments would not be what they are if the would-be -advisers served there as you do. I remember you at Austerlitz.... I -remember, yes, I remember you with the standard!" said Kutuzov, and -a flush of pleasure suffused Prince Andrew's face at this -recollection. - -Taking his hand and drawing him downwards, Kutuzov offered his cheek -to be kissed, and again Prince Andrew noticed tears in the old man's -eyes. Though Prince Andrew knew that Kutuzov's tears came easily, -and that he was particularly tender to and considerate of him from a -wish to show sympathy with his loss, yet this reminder of Austerlitz -was both pleasant and flattering to him. - -"Go your way and God be with you. I know your path is the path of -honor!" He paused. "I missed you at Bucharest, but I needed someone to -send." And changing the subject, Kutuzov began to speak of the Turkish -war and the peace that had been concluded. "Yes, I have been much -blamed," he said, "both for that war and the peace... but everything -came at the right time. Tout vient a point a celui qui sait attendre.~{ "Everything comes in time to him who knows how to wait." }~ -And there were as many advisers there as here..." he went on, -returning to the subject of "advisers" which evidently occupied him. -"Ah, those advisers!" said he. "If we had listened to them all we -should not have made peace with Turkey and should not have been -through with that war. Everything in haste, but more haste, less -speed. Kamenski would have been lost if he had not died. He stormed -fortresses with thirty thousand men. It is not difficult to capture -a fortress but it is difficult to win a campaign. For that, storming -and attacking but patience and time are wanted. Kamenski sent soldiers -to Rustchuk, but I only employed these two things and took more -fortresses than Kamenski and made the but eat horseflesh!" He swayed -his head. "And the French shall too, believe me," he went on, -growing warmer and beating his chest, "I'll make them eat horseflesh!" -And tears again dimmed his eyes. - -"But shan't we have to accept battle?" remarked Prince Andrew. - -"We shall if everybody wants it; it can't be helped.... But -believe me, my dear boy, there is nothing stronger than those two: -patience and time, they will do it all. But the advisers n'entendent -pas de cette oreille, voila le mal.~{ "Don't see it that way, that's the trouble." }~ Some want a thing- others -don't. What's one to do?" he asked, evidently expecting an answer. -"Well, what do you want us to do?" he repeated and his eye shone -with a deep, shrewd look. "I'll tell you what to do," he continued, as -Prince Andrew still did not reply: "I will tell you what to do, and -what I do. Dans le doute, mon cher," he paused, "abstiens-toi"~{ "When in doubt, my dear fellow, do nothing." }~ he -articulated the French proverb deliberately. - -"Well, good-by, my dear fellow; remember that with all my heart I -share your sorrow, and that for you I am not a Serene Highness, nor -a prince, nor a commander in chief, but a father! If you want anything -come straight to me. Good-by, my dear boy." - -Again he embraced and kissed Prince Andrew, but before the latter -had left the room Kutuzov gave a sigh of relief and went on with his -unfinished novel, Les Chevaliers du Cygne by Madame de Genlis. - -Prince Andrew could not have explained how or why it was, but -after that interview with Kutuzov he went back to his regiment -reassured as to the general course of affairs and as to the man to -whom it had been entrusted. The more he realized the absence of all -personal motive in that old man- in whom there seemed to remain only -the habit of passions, and in place of an intellect (grouping events -and drawing conclusions) only the capacity calmly to contemplate the -course of events- the more reassured he was that everything would be -as it should. "He will not bring in any plan of his own. He will not -devise or undertake anything," thought Prince Andrew, "but he will -hear everything, remember everything, and put everything in its place. -He will not hinder anything useful nor allow anything harmful. He -understands that there is something stronger and more important than -his own will- the inevitable course of events, and he can see them and -grasp their significance, and seeing that significance can refrain -from meddling and renounce his personal wish directed to something -else. And above all," thought Prince Andrew, "one believes in him -because he's Russian, despite the novel by Genlis and the French -proverbs, and because his voice shook when he said: 'What they have -brought us to!' and had a sob in it when he said he would 'make them -eat horseflesh!'" - -On such feelings, more or less dimly shared by all, the unanimity -and general approval were founded with which, despite court -influences, the popular choice of Kutuzov as commander in chief was -received. - -CHAPTER XVII - -After the Emperor had left Moscow, life flowed on there in its usual -course, and its course was so very usual that it was difficult to -remember the recent days of patriotic elation and ardor, hard to -believe that Russia was really in danger and that the members of the -English Club were also sons of the Fatherland ready to sacrifice -everything for it. The one thing that recalled the patriotic fervor -everyone had displayed during the Emperor's stay was the call for -contributions of men and money, a necessity that as soon as the -promises had been made assumed a legal, official form and became -unavoidable. - -With the enemy's approach to Moscow, the Moscovites' view of their -situation did not grow more serious but on the contrary became even -more frivolous, as always happens with people who see a great danger -approaching. At the approach of danger there are always two voices -that speak with equal power in the human soul: one very reasonably -tells a man to consider the nature of the danger and the means of -escaping it; the other, still more reasonably, says that it is too -depressing and painful to think of the danger, since it is not in -man's power to foresee everything and avert the general course of -events, and it is therefore better to disregard what is painful till -it comes, and to think about what is pleasant. In solitude a man -generally listens to the first voice, but in society to the second. So -it was now with the inhabitants of Moscow. It was long since people -had been as gay in Moscow as that year. - -Rostopchin's broadsheets, headed by woodcuts of a drink shop, a -potman, and a Moscow burgher called Karpushka Chigirin, "who- having -been a militiaman and having had rather too much at the pub- heard -that Napoleon wished to come to Moscow, grew angry, abused the -French in very bad language, came out of the drink shop, and, under -the sign of the eagle, began to address the assembled people," were -read and discussed, together with the latest of Vasili Lvovich -Pushkin's bouts rimes. - -In the corner room at the Club, members gathered to read these -broadsheets, and some liked the way Karpushka jeered at the French, -saying: "They will swell up with Russian cabbage, burst with our -buckwheat porridge, and choke themselves with cabbage soup. They are -all dwarfs and one peasant woman will toss three of them with a -hayfork." Others did not like that tone and said it was stupid and -vulgar. It was said that Rostopchin had expelled all Frenchmen and -even all foreigners from Moscow, and that there had been some spies -and agents of Napoleon among them; but this was told chiefly to -introduce Rostopchin's witty remark on that occasion. The foreigners -were deported to Nizhni by boat, and Rostopchin had said to them in -French: "Rentrez en vousmemes; entrez dans la barque, et n'en faites -pas une barque de Charon."~{ "Think it over; get into the barque, and take care not to make it a -barque of Charon." }~ There was talk of all the government -offices having been already removed from Moscow, and to this -Shinshin's witticism was added- that for that alone Moscow ought to be -grateful to Napoleon. It was said that Mamonov's regiment would cost -him eight hundred thousand rubles, and that Bezukhov had spent even -more on his, but that the best thing about Bezukhov's action was -that he himself was going to don a uniform and ride at the head of his -regiment without charging anything for the show. - -"You don't spare anyone," said Julie Drubetskaya as she collected -and pressed together a bunch of raveled lint with her thin, beringed -fingers. - -Julie was preparing to leave Moscow next day and was giving a -farewell soiree. - -"Bezukhov est ridicule, but he is so kind and good-natured. What -pleasure is there to be so caustique?" - -"A forfeit!" cried a young man in militia uniform whom Julie -called "mon chevalier," and who was going with her to Nizhni. - -In Julie's set, as in many other circles in Moscow, it had been -agreed that they would speak nothing but Russian and that those who -made a slip and spoke French should pay fines to the Committee of -Voluntary Contributions. - -"Another forfeit for a Gallicism," said a Russian writer who was -present. "'What pleasure is there to be' is not Russian!" - -"You spare no one," continued Julie to the young man without heeding -the author's remark. - -"For caustique- I am guilty and will pay, and I am prepared to pay -again for the pleasure of telling you the truth. For Gallicisms I -won't be responsible," she remarked, turning to the author: "I have -neither the money nor the time, like Prince Galitsyn, to engage a -master to teach me Russian!" - -"Ah, here he is!" she added. "Quand on... No, no," she said to the -militia officer, "you won't catch me. Speak of the sun and you see its -rays!" and she smiled amiably at Pierre. "We were just talking of -you," she said with the facility in lying natural to a society -woman. "We were saying that your regiment would be sure to be better -than Mamonov's." - -"Oh, don't talk to me of my regiment," replied Pierre, kissing his -hostess' hand and taking a seat beside her. "I am so sick of it." - -"You will, of course, command it yourself?" said Julie, directing -a sly, sarcastic glance toward the militia officer. - -The latter in Pierre's presence had ceased to be caustic, and his -face expressed perplexity as to what Julie's smile might mean. In -spite of his absent-mindedness and good nature, Pierre's personality -immediately checked any attempt to ridicule him to his face. - -"No," said Pierre, with a laughing glance at his big, stout body. "I -should make too good a target for the French, besides I am afraid I -should hardly be able to climb onto a horse." - -Among those whom Julie's guests happened to choose to gossip about -were the Rostovs. - -"I hear that their affairs are in a very bad way," said Julie. -"And he is so unreasonable, the count himself I mean. The -Razumovskis wanted to buy his house and his estate near Moscow, but it -drags on and on. He asks too much." - -"No, I think the sale will come off in a few days," said someone. -"Though it is madness to buy anything in Moscow now." - -"Why?" asked Julie. "You don't think Moscow is in danger?" - -"Then why are you leaving?" - -"I? What a question! I am going because... well, because everyone is -going: and besides- I am not Joan of Arc or an Amazon." - -"Well, of course, of course! Let me have some more strips of linen." - -"If he manages the business properly he will be able to pay off -all his debts," said the militia officer, speaking of Rostov. - -"A kindly old man but not up to much. And why do they stay on so -long in Moscow? They meant to leave for the country long ago. -Natalie is quite well again now, isn't she?" Julie asked Pierre with a -knowing smile. - -"They are waiting for their younger son," Pierre replied. "He joined -Obolenski's Cossacks and went to Belaya Tserkov where the regiment -is being formed. But now they have had him transferred to my -regiment and are expecting him every day. The count wanted to leave -long ago, but the countess won't on any account leave Moscow till -her son returns." - -"I met them the day before yesterday at the Arkharovs'. Natalie -has recovered her looks and is brighter. She sang a song. How easily -some people get over everything!" - -"Get over what?" inquired Pierre, looking displeased. - -Julie smiled. - -"You know, Count, such knights as you are only found in Madame de -Souza's novels." - -"What knights? What do you mean?" demanded Pierre, blushing. - -"Oh, come, my dear count! C'est la fable de tout Moscou. Je vous -admire, ma parole d'honneur!"~{ "It is the talk of all Moscow. My word, I admire you!" }~ - -"Forfeit, forfeit!" cried the militia officer. - -"All right, one can't talk- how tiresome!" - -"What is 'the talk of all Moscow'?" Pierre asked angrily, rising -to his feet. - -"Come now, Count, you know!" - -"I don't know anything about it," said Pierre. - -"I know you were friendly with Natalie, and so... but I was always -more friendly with Vera- that dear Vera." - -"No, madame!" Pierre continued in a tone of displeasure, "I have not -taken on myself the role of Natalie Rostova's knight at all, and -have not been their house for nearly a month. But I cannot -understand the cruelty..." - -"Qui s'excuse s'accuse,"~{ "Who excuses himself, accuses himself." }~ said Julie, smiling and waving the lint -triumphantly, and to have the last word she promptly changed the -subject. "Do you know what I heard today? Poor Mary Bolkonskaya -arrived in Moscow yesterday. Do you know that she has lost her -father?" - -"Really? Where is she? I should like very much to see her," said -Pierre. - -"I spent the evening with her yesterday. She is going to their -estate near Moscow either today or tomorrow morning, with her nephew." - -"Well, and how is she?" asked Pierre. - -"She is well, but sad. But do you know who rescued her? It is -quite a romance. Nicholas Rostov! She was surrounded, and they -wanted to kill her and had wounded some of her people. He rushed in -and saved her...." - -"Another romance," said the militia officer. "Really, this general -flight has been arranged to get all the old maids married off. Catiche -is one and Princess Bolkonskaya another." - -"Do you know, I really believe she is un petit peu amoureuse du -jeune homme."~{ "A little bit in love with the young man." }~ - -"Forfeit, forfeit, forfeit!" - -"But how could one say that in Russian?" - -CHAPTER XVIII - -When Pierre returned home he was handed two of Rostopchin's -broadsheets that had been brought that day. - -The first declared that the report that Count Rostopchin had -forbidden people to leave Moscow was false; on the contrary he was -glad that ladies and tradesmen's wives were leaving the city. "There -will be less panic and less gossip," ran the broadsheet "but I will -stake my life on it that that will not enter Moscow." These words -showed Pierre clearly for the first time that the French would enter -Moscow. The second broadsheet stated that our headquarters were at -Vyazma, that Count Wittgenstein had defeated the French, but that as -many of the inhabitants of Moscow wished to be armed, weapons were -ready for them at the arsenal: sabers, pistols, and muskets which -could be had at a low price. The tone of the proclamation was not as -jocose as in the former Chigirin talks. Pierre pondered over these -broadsheets. Evidently the terrible stormcloud he had desired with the -whole strength of his soul but which yet aroused involuntary horror in -him was drawing near. - -"Shall I join the army and enter the service, or wait?" he asked -himself for the hundredth time. He took a pack of cards that lay on -the table and began to lay them out for a game of patience. - -"If this patience comes out," he said to himself after shuffling the -cards, holding them in his hand, and lifting his head, "if it comes -out, it means... what does it mean?" - -He had not decided what it should mean when he heard the voice of -the eldest princess at the door asking whether she might come in. - -"Then it will mean that I must go to the army," said Pierre to -himself. "Come in, come in!" he added to the princess. - -Only the eldest princess, the one with the stony face and long -waist, was still living in Pierre's house. The two younger ones had -both married. - -"Excuse my coming to you, cousin," she said in a reproachful and -agitated voice. "You know some decision must be come to. What is going -to happen? Everyone has left Moscow and the people are rioting. How is -it that we are staying on?" - -"On the contrary, things seem satisfactory, ma cousine," said Pierre -in the bantering tone he habitually adopted toward her, always feeling -uncomfortable in the role of her benefactor. - -"Satisfactory, indeed! Very satisfactory! Barbara Ivanovna told me -today how our troops are distinguishing themselves. It certainly -does them credit! And the people too are quite mutinous- they no -longer obey, even my maid has taken to being rude. At this rate they -will soon begin beating us. One can't walk in the streets. But, -above all, the French will be here any day now, so what are we waiting -for? I ask just one thing of you, cousin," she went on, "arrange for -me to be taken to Petersburg. Whatever I may be, I can't live under -Bonaparte's rule." - -"Oh, come, ma cousine! Where do you get your information from? On -the contrary..." - -"I won't submit to your Napoleon! Others may if they please.... If -you don't want to do this..." - -"But I will, I'll give the order at once." - -The princess was apparently vexed at not having anyone to be angry -with. Muttering to herself, she sat down on a chair. - -"But you have been misinformed," said Pierre. "Everything is quiet -in the city and there is not the slightest danger. See! I've just been -reading..." He showed her the broadsheet. "Count Rostopchin writes -that he will stake his life on it that the enemy will not enter -Moscow." - -"Oh, that count of yours!" said the princess malevolently. "He is -a hypocrite, a rascal who has himself roused the people to riot. -Didn't he write in those idiotic broadsheets that anyone, 'whoever -it might be, should be dragged to the lockup by his hair'? (How -silly!) 'And honor and glory to whoever captures him,' he says. This -is what his cajolery has brought us to! Barbara Ivanovna told me the -mob near killed her because she said something in French." - -"Oh, but it's so... You take everything so to heart," said Pierre, -and began laying out his cards for patience. - -Although that patience did come out, Pierre did not join the army, -but remained in deserted Moscow ever in the same state of agitation, -irresolution, and alarm, yet at the same time joyfully expecting -something terrible. - -Next day toward evening the princess set off, and Pierre's head -steward came to inform him that the money needed for the equipment -of his regiment could not be found without selling one of the estates. -In general the head steward made out to Pierre that his project of -raising a regiment would ruin him. Pierre listened to him, scarcely -able to repress a smile. - -"Well then, sell it," said he. "What's to be done? I can't draw back -now!" - -The worse everything became, especially his own affairs, the -better was Pierre pleased and the more evident was it that the -catastrophe he expected was approaching. Hardly anyone he knew was -left in town. Julie had gone, and so had Princess Mary. Of his -intimate friends only the Rostovs remained, but he did not go to see -them. - -To distract his thoughts he drove that day to the village of -Vorontsovo to see the great balloon Leppich was constructing to -destroy the foe, and a trial balloon that was to go up next day. The -balloon was not yet ready, but Pierre learned that it was being -constructed by the Emperor's desire. The Emperor had written to -Count Rostopchin as follows: - -As soon as Leppich is ready, get together a crew of reliable and -intelligent men for his car and send a courier to General Kutuzov to -let him know. I have informed him of the matter. - -Please impress upon Leppich to be very careful where he descends for -the first time, that he may not make a mistake and fall into the -enemy's hands. It is essential for him to combine his movements with -those of the commander in chief. - -On his way home from Vorontsovo, as he was passing the Bolotnoe -Place Pierre, seeing a large crowd round the Lobnoe Place, stopped and -got out of his trap. A French cook accused of being a spy was being -flogged. The flogging was only just over, and the executioner was -releasing from the flogging bench a stout man with red whiskers, in -blue stockings and a green jacket, who was moaning piteously. -Another criminal, thin and pale, stood near. Judging by their faces -they were both Frenchmen. With a frightened and suffering look -resembling that on the thin Frenchman's face, Pierre pushed his way in -through the crowd. - -"What is it? Who is it? What is it for?" he kept asking. - -But the attention of the crowd- officials, burghers, shopkeepers, -peasants, and women in cloaks and in pelisses- was so eagerly centered -on what was passing in Lobnoe Place that no one answered him. The -stout man rose, frowned, shrugged his shoulders, and evidently -trying to appear firm began to pull on his jacket without looking -about him, but suddenly his lips trembled and he began to cry, in -the way full-blooded grown-up men cry, though angry with himself for -doing so. In the crowd people began talking loudly, to stifle their -feelings of pity as it seemed to Pierre. - -"He's cook to some prince." - -"Eh, mounseer, Russian sauce seems to be sour to a Frenchman... sets -his teeth on edge!" said a wrinkled clerk who was standing behind -Pierre, when the Frenchman began to cry. - -The clerk glanced round, evidently hoping that his joke would be -appreciated. Some people began to laugh, others continued to watch -in dismay the executioner who was undressing the other man. - -Pierre choked, his face puckered, and he turned hastily away, went -back to his trap muttering something to himself as he went, and took -his seat. As they drove along he shuddered and exclaimed several times -so audibly that the coachman asked him: - -"What is your pleasure?" - -"Where are you going?" shouted Pierre to the man, who was driving to -Lubyanka Street. - -"To the Governor's, as you ordered," answered the coachman. - -"Fool! Idiot!" shouted Pierre, abusing his coachman- a thing he -rarely did. "Home, I told you! And drive faster, blockhead!" "I must -get away this very day," he murmured to himself. - -At the sight of the tortured Frenchman and the crowd surrounding the -Lobnoe Place, Pierre had so definitely made up his mind that he -could no longer remain in Moscow and would leave for the army that -very day that it seemed to him that either he had told the coachman -this or that the man ought to have known it for himself. - -On reaching home Pierre gave orders to Evstafey- his head coachman -who knew everything, could do anything, and was known to all Moscow- -that he would leave that night for the army at Mozhaysk, and that -his saddle horses should be sent there. This could not all be arranged -that day, so on Evstafey's representation Pierre had to put off his -departure till next day to allow time for the relay horses to be -sent on in advance. - -On the twenty-fourth the weather cleared up after a spell of rain, -and after dinner Pierre left Moscow. When changing horses that night -in Perkhushkovo, he learned that there had been a great battle that -evening. (This was the battle of Shevardino.) He was told that there -in Perkhushkovo the earth trembled from the firing, but nobody could -answer his questions as to who had won. At dawn next day Pierre was -approaching Mozhaysk. - -Every house in Mozhaysk had soldiers quartered in it, and at the -hostel where Pierre was met by his groom and coachman there was no -room to be had. It was full of officers. - -Everywhere in Mozhaysk and beyond it, troops were stationed or on -the march. Cossacks, foot and horse soldiers, wagons, caissons, and -cannon were everywhere. Pierre pushed forward as fast as he could, and -the farther he left Moscow behind and the deeper he plunged into -that sea of troops the more was he overcome by restless agitation -and a new and joyful feeling he had not experienced before. It was a -feeling akin to what he had felt at the Sloboda Palace during the -Emperor's visit- a sense of the necessity of undertaking something and -sacrificing something. He now experienced a glad consciousness that -everything that constitutes men's happiness- the comforts of life, -wealth, even life itself- is rubbish it is pleasant to throw away, -compared with something... With what? Pierre could not say, and he did -not try to determine for whom and for what he felt such particular -delight in sacrificing everything. He was not occupied with the -question of what to sacrifice for; the fact of sacrificing in itself -afforded him a new and joyous sensation. - -CHAPTER XIX - -On the twenty-fourth of August the battle of the Shevardino -Redoubt was fought, on the twenty-fifth not a shot was fired by either -side, and on the twenty-sixth the battle of Borodino itself took -place. - -Why and how were the battles of Shevardino and Borodino given and -accepted? Why was the battle of Borodino fought? There was not the -least sense in it for either the French or the Russians. Its immediate -result for the Russians was, and was bound to be, that we were brought -nearer to the destruction of Moscow- which we feared more than -anything in the world; and for the French its immediate result was -that they were brought nearer to the destruction of their whole -army- which they feared more than anything in the world. What the -result must be was quite obvious, and yet Napoleon offered and Kutuzov -accepted that battle. - -If the commanders had been guided by reason, it would seem that it -must have been obvious to Napoleon that by advancing thirteen -hundred miles and giving battle with a probability of losing a quarter -of his army, he was advancing to certain destruction, and it must have -been equally clear to Kutuzov that by accepting battle and risking the -loss of a quarter of his army he would certainly lose Moscow. For -Kutuzov this was mathematically clear, as it is that if when playing -draughts I have one man less and go on exchanging, I shall certainly -lose, and therefore should not exchange. When my opponent has -sixteen men and I have fourteen, I am only one eighth weaker than -he, but when I have exchanged thirteen more men he will be three times -as strong as I am. - -Before the battle of Borodino our strength in proportion to the -French was about as five to six, but after that battle it was little -more than one to two: previously we had a hundred thousand against a -hundred and twenty thousand; afterwards little more than fifty -thousand against a hundred thousand. Yet the shrewd and experienced -Kutuzov accepted the battle, while Napoleon, who was said to be a -commander of genius, gave it, losing a quarter of his army and -lengthening his lines of communication still more. If it is said -that he expected to end the campaign by occupying Moscow as he had -ended a previous campaign by occupying Vienna, there is much -evidence to the contrary. Napoleon's historians themselves tell us -that from Smolensk onwards he wished to stop, knew the danger of his -extended position, and knew that the occupation of Moscow would not be -the end of the campaign, for he had seen at Smolensk the state in -which Russian towns were left to him, and had not received a single -reply to his repeated announcements of his wish to negotiate. - -In giving and accepting battle at Borodino, Kutuzov acted -involuntarily and irrationally. But later on, to fit what had -occurred, the historians provided cunningly devised evidence of the -foresight and genius the generals who, of all the blind tools of -history were the most enslaved and involuntary. - -The ancients have left us model heroic poems in which the heroes -furnish the whole interest of the story, and we are still unable to -accustom ourselves to the fact that for our epoch histories of that -kind are meaningless. - -On the other question, how the battle of Borodino and the -preceding battle of Shevardino were fought, there also exists a -definite and well-known, but quite false, conception. All the -historians describe the affair as follows: - -The Russian army, they say, in its retreat from Smolensk sought -out for itself the best position for a general engagement and found -such a position at Borodino. - -The Russians, they say, fortified this position in advance on the -left of the highroad (from Moscow to Smolensk) and almost at a right -angle to it, from Borodino to Utitsa, at the very place where the -battle was fought. - -In front of this position, they say, a fortified outpost was set -up on the Shevardino mound to observe the enemy. On the twenty-fourth, -we are told, Napoleon attacked this advanced post and took it, and, on -the twenty-sixth, attacked the whole Russian army, which was in -position on the field of Borodino. - -So the histories say, and it is all quite wrong, as anyone who cares -to look into the matter can easily convince himself. - -The Russians did not seek out the best position but, on the -contrary, during the retreat passed many positions better than -Borodino. They did not stop at any one of these positions because -Kutuzov did not wish to occupy a position he had not himself chosen, -because the popular demand for a battle had not yet expressed itself -strongly enough, and because Miloradovich had not yet arrived with the -militia, and for many other reasons. The fact is that other -positions they had passed were stronger, and that the position at -Borodino (the one where the battle was fought), far from being strong, -was no more a position than any other spot one might find in the -Russian Empire by sticking a pin into the map at hazard. - -Not only did the Russians not fortify the position on the field of -Borodino to the left of, and at a right angle to, the highroad (that -is, the position on which the battle took place), but never till the -twenty-fifth of August, 1812, did they think that a battle might be -fought there. This was shown first by the fact that there were no -entrenchments there by the twenty fifth and that those begun on the -twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth were not completed, and secondly, by the -position of the Shevardino Redoubt. That redoubt was quite senseless -in front of the position where the battle was accepted. Why was it -more strongly fortified than any other post? And why were all -efforts exhausted and six thousand men sacrificed to defend it till -late at night on the twenty-fourth? A Cossack patrol would have -sufficed to observe the enemy. Thirdly, as proof that the position -on which the battle was fought had not been foreseen and that the -Shevardino Redoubt was not an advanced post of that position, we -have the fact that up to the twenty-fifth, Barclay de Tolly and -Bagration were convinced that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left -flank of the position, and that Kutuzov himself in his report, written -in hot haste after the battle, speaks of the Shevardino Redoubt as the -left flank of the position. It was much later, when reports on the -battle of Borodino were written at leisure, that the incorrect and -extraordinary statement was invented (probably to justify the mistakes -of a commander in chief who had to be represented as infallible) -that the Shevardino Redoubt was an advanced post- whereas in reality -it was simply a fortified point on the left flank- and that the battle -of Borodino was fought by us on an entrenched position previously -selected, where as it was fought on a quite unexpected spot which -was almost unentrenched. - -The case was evidently this: a position was selected along the river -Kolocha- which crosses the highroad not at a right angle but at an -acute angle- so that the left flank was at Shevardino, the right flank -near the village of Novoe, and the center at Borodino at the -confluence of the rivers Kolocha and Voyna. - -To anyone who looks at the field of Borodino without thinking of how -the battle was actually fought, this position, protected by the -river Kolocha, presents itself as obvious for an army whose object was -to prevent an enemy from advancing along the Smolensk road to Moscow. - -Napoleon, riding to Valuevo on the twenty-fourth, did not see (as -the history books say he did) the position of the Russians from Utitsa -to Borodino (he could not have seen that position because it did not -exist), nor did he see an advanced post of the Russian army, but while -pursuing the Russian rearguard he came upon the left flank of the -Russian position- at the Shevardino Redoubt- and unexpectedly for -the Russians moved his army across the Kolocha. And the Russians, -not having time to begin a general engagement, withdrew their left -wing from the position they had intended to occupy and took up a new -position which had not been foreseen and was not fortified. By -crossing to the other side of the Kolocha to the left of the highroad, -Napoleon shifted the whole forthcoming battle from right to left -(looking from the Russian side) and transferred it to the plain -between Utitsa, Semenovsk, and Borodino- a plain no more -advantageous as a position than any other plain in Russia- and there -the whole battle of the twenty-sixth of August took place. - -Had Napoleon not ridden out on the evening of the twenty-fourth to -the Kolocha, and had he not then ordered an immediate attack on the -redoubt but had begun the attack next morning, no one would have -doubted that the Shevardino Redoubt was the left flank of our and -the battle would have taken place where we expected it. In that case -we should probably have defended the Shevardino Redoubt- our left -flank- still more obstinately. We should have attacked Napoleon in the -center or on the right, and the engagement would have taken place on -the twenty-fifth, in the position we intended and had fortified. But -as the attack on our left flank took place in the evening after the -retreat of our rea guard (that is, immediately after the fight at -Gridneva), and as the Russian commanders did not wish, or were not -in time, to begin a general engagement then on the evening of the -twenty-fourth, the first and chief action of the battle of Borodino -was already lost on the twenty-fourth, and obviously led to the loss -of the one fought on the twenty-sixth. - -After the loss of the Shevardino Redoubt, we found ourselves on -the morning of the twenty-fifth without a position for our left flank, -and were forced to bend it back and hastily entrench it where it -chanced to be. - -Not only was the Russian army on the twenty-sixth defended by -weak, unfinished entrenchments, but the disadvantage of that -position was increased by the fact that the Russian commanders- not -having fully realized what had happened, namely the loss of our -position on the left flank and the shifting of the whole field of -the forthcoming battle from right to left- maintained their extended -position from the village of Novoe to Utitsa, and consequently had -to move their forces from right to left during the battle. So it -happened that throughout the whole battle the Russians opposed the -entire French army launched against our left flank with but half as -many men. (Poniatowski's action against Utitsa, and Uvarov's on the -right flank against the French, were actions distinct from the main -course of the battle.) So the battle of Borodino did not take place at -all as (in an effort to conceal our commanders' mistakes even at the -cost of diminishing the glory due to the Russian army and people) it -has been described. The battle of Borodino was not fought on a -chosen and entrenched position with forces only slightly weaker than -those of the enemy, but, as a result of the loss of the Shevardino -Redoubt, the Russians fought the battle of Borodino on an open and -almost unentrenched position, with forces only half as numerous as the -French; that is to say, under conditions in which it was not merely -unthinkable to fight for ten hours and secure an indecisive result, -but unthinkable to keep an army even from complete disintegration -and flight. - -CHAPTER XX - -On the morning of the twenty-fifth Pierre was leaving Mozhaysk. At -the descent of the high steep hill, down which a winding road led -out of the town past the cathedral on the right, where a service was -being held and the bells were ringing, Pierre got out of his vehicle -and proceeded on foot. Behind him a cavalry regiment was coming down -the hill preceded by its singers. Coming up toward him was a train -of carts carrying men who had been wounded in the engagement the day -before. The peasant drivers, shouting and lashing their horses, kept -crossing from side to side. The carts, in each of which three or -four wounded soldiers were lying or sitting, jolted over the stones -that had been thrown on the steep incline to make it something like -a road. The wounded, bandaged with rags, with pale cheeks, -compressed lips, and knitted brows, held on to the sides of the -carts as they were jolted against one another. Almost all of them -stared with naive, childlike curiosity at Pierre's white hat and green -swallow-tail coat. - -Pierre's coachman shouted angrily at the convoy of wounded to keep -to one side of the road. The cavalry regiment, as it descended the -hill with its singers, surrounded Pierre's carriage and blocked the -road. Pierre stopped, being pressed against the side of the cutting in -which the road ran. The sunshine from behind the hill did not -penetrate into the cutting and there it was cold and damp, but above -Pierre's head was the bright August sunshine and the bells sounded -merrily. One of the carts with wounded stopped by the side of the road -close to Pierre. The driver in his bast shoes ran panting up to it, -placed a stone under one of its tireless hind wheels, and began -arranging the breech-band on his little horse. - -One of the wounded, an old soldier with a bandaged arm who was -following the cart on foot, caught hold of it with his sound hand -and turned to look at Pierre. - -"I say, fellow countryman! Will they set us down here or take us -on to Moscow?" he asked. - -Pierre was so deep in thought that he did not hear the question. -He was looking now at the cavalry regiment that had met the convoy -of wounded, now at the cart by which he was standing, in which two -wounded men were sitting and one was lying. One of those sitting up in -the cart had probably been wounded in the cheek. His whole head was -wrapped in rags and one cheek was swollen to the size of a baby's -head. His nose and mouth were twisted to one side. This soldier was -looking at the cathedral and crossing himself. Another, a young lad, a -fair-haired recruit as white as though there was no blood in his -thin face, looked at Pierre kindly, with a fixed smile. The third -lay prone so that his face was not visible. The cavalry singers were -passing close by: - -``` block - Ah lost, quite lost... is my head so keen, -Living in a foreign land. -``` - -they sang their soldiers' dance song. - -As if responding to them but with a different sort of merriment, the -metallic sound of the bells reverberated high above and the hot rays -of the sun bathed the top of the opposite slope with yet another -sort of merriment. But beneath the slope, by the cart with the wounded -near the panting little nag where Pierre stood, it was damp, somber, -and sad. - -The soldier with the swollen cheek looked angrily at the cavalry -singers. - -"Oh, the coxcombs!" he muttered reproachfully. - -"It's not the soldiers only, but I've seen peasants today, too.... -The peasants- even they have to go," said the soldier behind the cart, -addressing Pierre with a sad smile. "No distinctions made nowadays.... -They want the whole nation to fall on them- in a word, it's Moscow! -They want to make an end of it." - -In spite of the obscurity of the soldier's words Pierre understood -what he wanted to say and nodded approval. - -The road was clear again; Pierre descended the hill and drove on. - -He kept looking to either side of the road for familiar faces, but -only saw everywhere the unfamiliar faces of various military men of -different branches of the service, who all looked with astonishment at -his white hat and green tail coat. - -Having gone nearly three miles he at last met an acquaintance and -eagerly addressed him. This was one of the head army doctors. He was -driving toward Pierre in a covered gig, sitting beside a young -surgeon, and on recognizing Pierre he told the Cossack who occupied -the driver's seat to pull up. - -"Count! Your excellency, how come you to be here?" asked the doctor. - -"Well, you know, I wanted to see..." - -"Yes, yes, there will be something to see...." - -Pierre got out and talked to the doctor, explaining his intention of -taking part in a battle. - -The doctor advised him to apply direct to Kutuzov. - -"Why should you be God knows where out of sight, during the battle?" -he said, exchanging glances with his young companion. "Anyhow his -Serene Highness knows you and will receive you graciously. That's what -you must do." - -The doctor seemed tired and in a hurry. - -"You think so?... Ah, I also wanted to ask you where our position is -exactly?" said Pierre. - -"The position?" repeated the doctor. "Well, that's not my line. -Drive past Tatarinova, a lot of digging is going on there. Go up the -hillock and you'll see." - -"Can one see from there?... If you would..." - -But the doctor interrupted him and moved toward his gig. - -"I would go with you but on my honor I'm up to here"- and he pointed -to his throat. "I'm galloping to the commander of the corps. How do -matters stand?... You know, Count, there'll be a battle tomorrow. -Out of an army of a hundred thousand we must expect at least twenty -thousand wounded, and we haven't stretchers, or bunks, or dressers, or -doctors enough for six thousand. We have ten thousand carts, but we -need other things as well- we must manage as best we can!" - -The strange thought that of the thousands of men, young and old, who -had stared with merry surprise at his hat (perhaps the very men he had -noticed), twenty thousand were inevitably doomed to wounds and death -amazed Pierre. - -"They may die tomorrow; why are they thinking of anything but -death?" And by some latent sequence of thought the descent of the -Mozhaysk hill, the carts with the wounded, the ringing bells, the -slanting rays of the sun, and the songs of the cavalrymen vividly -recurred to his mind. - -"The cavalry ride to battle and meet the wounded and do not for a -moment think of what awaits them, but pass by, winking at the wounded. -Yet from among these men twenty thousand are doomed to die, and they -wonder at my hat! Strange!" thought Pierre, continuing his way to -Tatarinova. - -In front of a landowner's house to the left of the road stood -carriages, wagons, and crowds of orderlies and sentinels. The -commander in chief was putting up there, but just when Pierre -arrived he was not in and hardly any of the staff were there- they had -gone to the church service. Pierre drove on toward Gorki. - -When he had ascended the hill and reached the little village street, -he saw for the first time peasant militiamen in their white shirts and -with crosses on their caps, who, talking and laughing loudly, animated -and perspiring, were at work on a huge knoll overgrown with grass to -the right of the road. - -Some of them were digging, others were wheeling barrowloads of earth -along planks, while others stood about doing nothing. - -Two officers were standing on the knoll, directing the men. On -seeing these peasants, who were evidently still amused by the -novelty of their position as soldiers, Pierre once more thought of the -wounded men at Mozhaysk and understood what the soldier had meant when -he said: "They want the whole nation to fall on them." The sight of -these bearded peasants at work on the battlefield, with their queer, -clumsy boots and perspiring necks, and their shirts opening from the -left toward the middle, unfastened, exposing their sunburned -collarbones, impressed Pierre more strongly with the solemnity and -importance of the moment than anything he had yet seen or heard. - -CHAPTER XXI - -Pierre stepped out of his carriage and, passing the toiling -militiamen, ascended the knoll from which, according to the doctor, -the battlefield could be seen. - -It was about eleven o'clock. The sun shone somewhat to the left -and behind him and brightly lit up the enormous panorama which, rising -like an amphitheater, extended before him in the clear rarefied -atmosphere. - -From above on the left, bisecting that amphitheater, wound the -Smolensk highroad, passing through a village with a white church -some five hundred paces in front of the knoll and below it. This was -Borodino. Below the village the road crossed the river by a bridge -and, winding down and up, rose higher and higher to the village of -Valuevo visible about four miles away, where Napoleon was then -stationed. Beyond Valuevo the road disappeared into a yellowing forest -on the horizon. Far in the distance in that birch and fir forest to -the right of the road, the cross and belfry of the Kolocha Monastery -gleamed in the sun. Here and there over the whole of that blue -expanse, to right and left of the forest and the road, smoking -campfires could be seen and indefinite masses of troops- ours and -the enemy's. The ground to the right- along the course of the -Kolocha and Moskva rivers- was broken and hilly. Between the hollows -the villages of Bezubova and Zakharino showed in the distance. On -the left the ground was more level; there were fields of grain, and -the smoking ruins of Semenovsk, which had been burned down, could be -seen. - -All that Pierre saw was so indefinite that neither the left nor -the right side of the field fully satisfied his expectations. -Nowhere could he see the battlefield he had expected to find, but only -fields, meadows, troops, woods, the smoke of campfires, villages, -mounds, and streams; and try as he would he could descry no military -"position" in this place which teemed with life, nor could he even -distinguish our troops from the enemy's. - -"I must ask someone who knows," he thought, and addressed an officer -who was looking with curiosity at his huge unmilitary figure. - -"May I ask you," said Pierre, "what village that is in front?" - -"Burdino, isn't it?" said the officer, turning to his companion. - -"Borodino," the other corrected him. - -The officer, evidently glad of an opportunity for a talk, moved up -to Pierre. - -"Are those our men there?" Pierre inquired. - -"Yes, and there, further on, are the French," said the officer. -"There they are, there... you can see them." - -"Where? Where?" asked Pierre. - -"One can see them with the naked eye... Why, there!" - -The officer pointed with his hand to the smoke visible on the left -beyond the river, and the same stern and serious expression that -Pierre had noticed on many of the faces he had met came into his face. - -"Ah, those are the French! And over there?..." Pierre pointed to a -knoll on the left, near which some troops could be seen. - -"Those are ours." - -"Ah, ours! And there?..." Pierre pointed to another knoll in the -distance with a big tree on it, near a village that lay in a hollow -where also some campfires were smoking and something black was -visible. - -"That's his again," said the officer. (It was the Shevardino -Redoubt.) "It was ours yesterday, but now it is his." - -"Then how about our position?" - -"Our position?" replied the officer with a smile of satisfaction. "I -can tell you quite clearly, because I constructed nearly all our -entrenchments. There, you see? There's our center, at Borodino, just -there," and he pointed to the village in front of them with the -white church. "That's where one crosses the Kolocha. You see down -there where the rows of hay are lying in the hollow, there's the -bridge. That's our center. Our right flank is over there"- he -pointed sharply to the right, far away in the broken ground- "That's -where the Moskva River is, and we have thrown up three redoubts there, -very strong ones. The left flank..." here the officer paused. "Well, -you see, that's difficult to explain.... Yesterday our left flank -was there at Shevardino, you see, where the oak is, but now we have -withdrawn our left wing- now it is over there, do you see that village -and the smoke? That's Semenovsk, yes, there," he pointed to -Raevski's knoll. "But the battle will hardly be there. His having -moved his troops there is only a ruse; he will probably pass round -to the right of the Moskva. But wherever it may be, many a man will be -missing tomorrow!" he remarked. - -An elderly sergeant who had approached the officer while he was -giving these explanations had waited in silence for him to finish -speaking, but at this point, evidently not liking the officer's -remark, interrupted him. - -"Gabions must be sent for," said he sternly. - -The officer appeared abashed, as though he understood that one might -think of how many men would be missing tomorrow but ought not to speak -to speak of it. - -"Well, send number three company again," the officer replied -hurriedly. - -"And you, are you one of the doctors?" - -"No, I've come on my own," answered Pierre, and he went down the -hill again, passing the militiamen. - -"Oh, those damned fellows!" muttered the officer who followed him, -holding his nose as he ran past the men at work. - -"There they are... bringing her, coming... There they are... They'll -be here in a minute..." voices were suddenly heard saying; and -officers, soldiers, and militiamen began running forward along the -road. - -A church procession was coming up the hill from Borodino. First -along the dusty road came the infantry in ranks, bareheaded and with -arms reversed. From behind them came the sound of church singing. - -Soldiers and militiamen ran bareheaded past Pierre toward the -procession. - -"They are bringing her, our Protectress!... The Iberian Mother of -God!" someone cried. - -"The Smolensk Mother of God," another corrected him. - -The militiamen, both those who had been in the village and those who -had been at work on the battery, threw down their spades and ran to -meet the church procession. Following the battalion that marched along -the dusty road came priests in their vestments- one little old man -in a hood with attendants and singers. Behind them soldiers and -officers bore a large, dark-faced icon with an embossed metal cover. -This was the icon that had been brought from and had since accompanied -the army. Behind, before, and on both sides, crowds of militiamen with -bared heads walked, ran, and bowed to the ground. - -At the summit of the hill they stopped with the icon; the men who -had been holding it up by the linen bands attached to it were relieved -by others, the chanters relit their censers, and service began. The -hot rays of the sun beat down vertically and a fresh soft wind -played with the hair of the bared heads and with the ribbons -decorating the icon. The singing did not sound loud under the open -sky. An immense crowd of bareheaded officers, soldiers, and militiamen -surrounded the icon. Behind the priest and a chanter stood the -notabilities on a spot reserved for them. A bald general with -general with a St. George's Cross on his neck stood just behind the -priest's back, and without crossing himself (he was evidently a -German) patiently awaited the end of the service, which he -considered it necessary to hear to the end, probably to arouse the -patriotism of the Russian people. Another general stood in a martial -pose, crossing himself by shaking his hand in front of his chest while -looking about him. Standing among the crowd of peasants, Pierre -recognized several acquaintances among these notables, but did not -look at them- his whole attention was absorbed in watching the serious -expression on the faces of the crowd of soldiers and militiamen who -were all gazing eagerly at the icon. As soon as the tired chanters, -who were singing the service for the twentieth time that day, began -lazily and mechanically to sing: "Save from calamity Thy servants, O -Mother of God," and the priest and deacon chimed in: "For to Thee -under God we all flee as to an inviolable bulwark and protection," -there again kindled in all those faces the same expression of -consciousness of the solemnity of the impending moment that Pierre had -seen on the faces at the foot of the hill at Mozhaysk and -momentarily on many and many faces he had met that morning; and -heads were bowed more frequently and hair tossed back, and sighs and -the sound men made as they crossed themselves were heard. - -The crowd round the icon suddenly parted and pressed against Pierre. -Someone, a very important personage judging by the haste with which -way was made for him, was approaching the icon. - -It was Kutuzov, who had been riding round the position and on his -way back to Tatarinova had stopped where the service was being held. -Pierre recognized him at once by his peculiar figure, which -distinguished him from everybody else. - -With a long overcoat on his his exceedingly stout, -round-shouldered body, with uncovered white head and puffy face -showing the white ball of the eye he had lost, Kutuzov walked with -plunging, swaying gait into the crowd and stopped behind the priest. -He crossed himself with an accustomed movement, bent till he touched -the ground with his hand, and bowed his white head with a deep sigh. -Behind Kutuzov was Bennigsen and the suite. Despite the presence of -the commander in chief, who attracted the attention of all the -superior officers, the militiamen and soldiers continued their prayers -without looking at him. - -When the service was over, Kutuzov stepped up to the icon, sank -heavily to his knees, bowed to the ground, and for a long time tried -vainly to rise, but could not do so on account of his weakness and -weight. His white head twitched with the effort. At last he rose, -kissed the icon as a child does with naively pouting lips, and again -bowed till he touched the ground with his hand. The other generals -followed his example, then the officers, and after them with excited -faces, pressing on one another, crowding, panting, and pushing, -scrambled the soldiers and militiamen. - -CHAPTER XXII - -Staggering amid the crush, Pierre looked about him. - -"Count Peter Kirilovich! How did you get here?" said a voice. - -Pierre looked round. Boris Drubetskoy, brushing his knees with his -hand (he had probably soiled them when he, too, had knelt before the -icon), came up to him smiling. Boris was elegantly dressed, with a -slightly martial touch appropriate to a campaign. He wore a long -coat and like Kutuzov had a whip slung across his shoulder. - -Meanwhile Kutuzov had reached the village and seated himself in -the shade of the nearest house, on a bench which one Cossack had run -to fetch and another had hastily covered with a rug. An immense and -brilliant suite surrounded him. - -The icon was carried further, accompanied by the throng. Pierre -stopped some thirty paces from Kutuzov, talking to Boris. - -He explained his wish to be present at the battle and to see the -position. - -"This is what you must do," said Boris. "I will do the honors of the -camp to you. You will see everything best from where Count Bennigsen -will be. I am in attendance on him, you know; I'll mention it to -him. But if you want to ride round the position, come along with us. -We are just going to the left flank. Then when we get back, do spend -the night with me and we'll arrange a game of cards. Of course you -know Dmitri Sergeevich? Those are his quarters," and he pointed to the -third house in the village of Gorki. - -"But I should like to see the right flank. They say it's very -strong," said Pierre. "I should like to start from the Moskva River -and ride round the whole position." - -"Well, you can do that later, but the chief thing is the left -flank." - -"Yes, yes. But where is Prince Bolkonski's regiment? Can you point -it out to me?" - -"Prince Andrew's? We shall pass it and I'll take you to him." - -What about the left flank?" asked Pierre - -"To tell you the truth, between ourselves, God only knows what state -our left flank is in," said Boris confidentially lowering his voice. -"It is not at all what Count Bennigsen intended. He meant to fortify -that knoll quite differently, but..." Boris shrugged his shoulders, -"his Serene Highness would not have it, or someone persuaded him. -You see..." but Boris did not finish, for at that moment Kaysarov, -Kutuzov's adjutant, came up to Pierre. "Ah, Kaysarov!" said Boris, -addressing him with an unembarrassed smile, "I was just trying to -explain our position to the count. It is amazing how his Serene -Highness could so the intentions of the French!" - -"You mean the left flank?" asked Kaysarov. - -"Yes, exactly; the left flank is now extremely strong." - -Though Kutuzov had dismissed all unnecessary men from the staff, -Boris had contrived to remain at headquarters after the changes. He -had established himself with Count Bennigsen, who, like all on whom -Boris had been in attendance, considered young Prince Drubetskoy an -invaluable man. - -In the higher command there were two sharply defined parties: -Kutuzov's party and that of Bennigsen, the chief of staff. Boris -belonged to the latter and no one else, while showing servile -respect to Kutuzov, could so create an impression that the old -fellow was not much good and that Bennigsen managed everything. Now -the decisive moment of battle had come when Kutuzov would be destroyed -and the power pass to Bennigsen, or even if Kutuzov won the battle -it would be felt that everything was done by Bennigsen. In any case -many great rewards would have to be given for tomorrow's action, and -new men would come to the front. So Boris was full of nervous vivacity -all day. - -After Kaysarov, others whom Pierre knew came up to him, and he had -not time to reply to all the questions about Moscow that were showered -upon him, or to listen to all that was told him. The faces all -expressed animation and apprehension, but it seemed to Pierre that the -cause of the excitement shown in some of these faces lay chiefly in -questions of personal success; his mind, however, was occupied by -the different expression he saw on other faces- an expression that -spoke not of personal matters but of the universal questions of life -and death. Kutuzov noticed Pierre's figure and the group gathered -round him. - -"Call him to me," said Kutuzov. - -An adjutant told Pierre of his Serene Highness' wish, and Pierre -went toward Kutuzov's bench. But a militiaman got there before him. It -was Dolokhov. - -"How did that fellow get here?" asked Pierre. - -"He's a creature that wriggles in anywhere!" was the answer. "He has -been degraded, you know. Now he wants to bob up again. He's been -proposing some scheme or other and has crawled into the enemy's picket -line at night.... He's a brave fellow." - -Pierre took off his hat and bowed respectfully to Kutuzov. - -"I concluded that if I reported to your Serene Highness you might -send me away or say that you knew what I was reporting, but then I -shouldn't lose anything..." Dolokhov was saying. - -"Yes, yes." - -"But if I were right, I should be rendering a service to my -Fatherland for which I am ready to die." - -"Yes, yes." - -"And should your Serene Highness require a man who will not spare -his skin, please think of me.... Perhaps I may prove useful to your -Serene Highness." - -"Yes... Yes..." Kutuzov repeated, his laughing eye narrowing more -and more as he looked at Pierre. - -Just then Boris, with his courtierlike adroitness, stepped up to -Pierre's side near Kutuzov and in a most natural manner, without -raising his voice, said to Pierre, as though continuing an interrupted -conversation: - -"The militia have put on clean white shirts to be ready to die. What -heroism, Count!" - -Boris evidently said this to Pierre in order to be overheard by -his Serene Highness. He knew Kutuzov's attention would be caught by -those words, and so it was. - -"What are you saying about the militia?" he asked Boris. - -"Preparing for tomorrow, your Serene Highness- for death- they -have put on clean shirts." - -"Ah... a wonderful, a matchless people!" said Kutuzov; and he closed -his eyes and swayed his head. "A matchless people!" he repeated with a -sigh. - -"So you want to smell gunpowder?" he said to Pierre. "Yes, it's a -pleasant smell. I have the honor to be one of your wife's adorers. -Is she well? My quarters are at your service." - -And as often happens with old people, Kutuzov began looking about -absent-mindedly as if forgetting all he wanted to say or do. - -Then, evidently remembering what he wanted, he beckoned to Andrew -Kaysarov, his adjutant's brother. - -"Those verses... those verses of Marin's... how do they go, eh? -Those he wrote about Gerakov: 'Lectures for the corps inditing'... -Recite them, recite them!" said he, evidently preparing to laugh. - -Kaysarov recited.... Kutuzov smilingly nodded his head to the rhythm -of the verses. - -When Pierre had left Kutuzov, Dolokhov came up to him and took his -hand. - -"I am very glad to meet you here, Count," he said aloud, -regardless of the presence of strangers and in a particularly resolute -and solemn tone. "On the eve of a day when God alone knows who of us -is fated to survive, I am glad of this opportunity to tell you that -I regret the misunderstandings that occurred between us and should -wish you not to have any ill feeling for me. I beg you to forgive me." - -Pierre looked at Dolokhov with a smile, not knowing what to say to -him. With tears in his eyes Dolokhov embraced Pierre and kissed him. - -Boris said a few words to his general, and Count Bennigsen turned to -Pierre and proposed that he should ride with him along the line. - -"It will interest you," said he. - -"Yes, very much," replied Pierre. - -Half an hour later Kutuzov left for Tatarinova, and Bennigsen and -his suite, with Pierre among them, set out on their ride along the -line. - -CHAPTER XXIII - -From Gorki, Bennigsen descended the highroad to the bridge which, -when they had looked it from the hill, the officer had pointed out -as being the center of our position and where rows of fragrant -new-mown hay lay by the riverside. They rode across that bridge into -the village of Borodino and thence turned to the left, passing an -enormous number of troops and guns, and came to a high knoll where -militiamen were digging. This was the redoubt, as yet unnamed, which -afterwards became known as the Raevski Redoubt, or the Knoll -Battery, but Pierre paid no special attention to it. He did not know -that it would become more memorable to him than any other spot on -the plain of Borodino. - -They then crossed the hollow to Semenovsk, where the soldiers were -dragging away the last logs from the huts and barns. Then they rode -downhill and uphill, across a ryefield trodden and beaten down as if -by hail, following a track freshly made by the artillery over the -furrows of the plowed land, and reached some fleches~{ A kind of entrenchment. }~ which were still -being dug. - -At the fleches Bennigsen stopped and began looking at the Shevardino -Redoubt opposite, which had been ours the day before and where several -horsemen could be descried. The officers said that either Napoleon -or Murat was there, and they all gazed eagerly at this little group of -horsemen. Pierre also looked at them, trying to guess which of the -scarcely discernible figures was Napoleon. At last those mounted men -rode away from the mound and disappeared. - -Bennigsen spoke to a general who approached him, and began -explaining the whole position of our troops. Pierre listened to him, -straining each faculty to understand the essential points of the -impending battle, but was mortified to feel that his mental capacity -was inadequate for the task. He could make nothing of it. Bennigsen -stopped speaking and, noticing that Pierre was listening, suddenly -said to him: - -"I don't think this interests you?" - -"On the contrary it's very interesting!" replied Pierre not quite -truthfully. - -From the fleches they rode still farther to the left, along a road -winding through a thick, low-growing birch wood. In the middle of -the wood a brown hare with white feet sprang out and, scared by the -tramp of the many horses, grew so confused that it leaped along the -road in front of them for some time, arousing general attention and -laughter, and only when several voices shouted at it did it dart to -one side and disappear in the thicket. After going through the wood -for about a mile and a half they came out on a glade where troops of -Tuchkov's corps were stationed to defend the left flank. - -Here, at the extreme left flank, Bennigsen talked a great deal and -with much heat, and, as it seemed to Pierre, gave orders of great -military importance. In front of Tuchkov's troops was some high ground -not occupied by troops. Bennigsen loudly criticized this mistake, -saying that it was madness to leave a height which commanded the -country around unoccupied and to place troops below it. Some of the -generals expressed the same opinion. One in particular declared with -martial heat that they were put there to be slaughtered. Bennigsen -on his own authority ordered the troops to occupy the high ground. -This disposition on the left flank increased Pierre's doubt of his own -capacity to understand military matters. Listening to Bennigsen and -the generals criticizing the position of the troops behind the hill, -he quite understood them and shared their opinion, but for that very -reason he could not understand how the man who put them there behind -the hill could have made so gross and palpable a blunder. - -Pierre did not know that these troops were not, as Bennigsen -supposed, put there to defend the position, but were in a concealed -position as an ambush, that they should not be seen and might be -able to strike an approaching enemy unexpectedly. Bennigsen did not -know this and moved the troops forward according to his own ideas -without mentioning the matter to the commander in chief. - -CHAPTER XXIV - -On that bright evening of August 25, Prince Andrew lay leaning on -his elbow in a broken-down shed in the village of Knyazkovo at the -further end of his regiment's encampment. Through a gap in the -broken wall he could see, beside the wooden fence, a row of thirty -year-old birches with their lower branches lopped off, a field on -which shocks of oats were standing, and some bushes near which rose -the smoke of campfires- the soldiers' kitchens. - -Narrow and burdensome and useless to anyone as his life now seemed -to him, Prince Andrew on the eve of battle felt agitated and irritable -as he had done seven years before at Austerlitz. - -He had received and given the orders for next day's battle and had -nothing more to do. But his thoughts- the simplest, clearest, and -therefore most terrible thoughts- would give him no peace. He knew -that tomorrow's battle would be the most terrible of all he had -taken part in, and for the first time in his life the possibility of -death presented itself to him- not in relation to any worldly matter -or with reference to its effect on others, but simply in relation to -himself, to his own soul- vividly, plainly, terribly, and almost as -a certainty. And from the height of this perception all that had -previously tormented and preoccupied him suddenly became illumined -by a cold white light without shadows, without perspective, without -distinction of outline. All life appeared to him like magic-lantern -pictures at which he had long been gazing by artificial light -through a glass. Now he suddenly saw those badly daubed pictures in -clear daylight and without a glass. "Yes, yes! There they are, those -false images that agitated, enraptured, and tormented me," said he -to himself, passing in review the principal pictures of the magic -lantern of life and regarding them now in the cold white daylight of -his clear perception of death. "There they are, those rudely painted -figures that once seemed splendid and mysterious. Glory, the good of -society, love of a woman, the Fatherland itself- how important these -pictures appeared to me, with what profound meaning they seemed to -be filled! And it is all so simple, pale, and crude in the cold -white light of this morning which I feel is dawning for me." The three -great sorrows of his life held his attention in particular: his love -for a woman, his father's death, and the French invasion which had -overrun half Russia. "Love... that little girl who seemed to me -brimming over with mystic forces! Yes, indeed, I loved her. I made -romantic plans of love and happiness with her! Oh, what a boy I -was!" he said aloud bitterly. "Ah me! I believed in some ideal love -which was to keep her faithful to me for the whole year of my absence! -Like the gentle dove in the fable she was to pine apart from me.... -But it was much simpler really.... It was all very simple and -horrible." - -"When my father built Bald Hills he thought the place was his: his -land, his air, his peasants. But Napoleon came and swept him aside, -unconscious of his existence, as he might brush a chip from his -path, and his Bald Hills and his whole life fell to pieces. Princess -Mary says it is a trial sent from above. What is the trial for, when -he is not here and will never return? He is not here! For whom then is -the trial intended? The Fatherland, the destruction of Moscow! And -tomorrow I shall be killed, perhaps not even by a Frenchman but by one -of our own men, by a soldier discharging a musket close to my ear as -one of them did yesterday, and the French will come and take me by -head and heels and fling me into a hole that I may not stink under -their noses, and new conditions of life will arise, which will seem -quite ordinary to others and about which I shall know nothing. I shall -not exist..." - -He looked at the row of birches shining in the sunshine, with -their motionless green and yellow foliage and white bark. "To die... -to be killed tomorrow... That I should not exist... That all this -should still be, but no me...." - -And the birches with their light and shade, the curly clouds, the -smoke of the campfires, and all that was around him changed and seemed -terrible and menacing. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He rose -quickly, went out of the shed, and began to walk about. - -After he had returned, voices were heard outside the shed. "Who's -that?" he cried. - -The red-nosed Captain Timokhin, formerly Dolokhov's squadron -commander, but now from lack of officers a battalion commander, -shyly entered the shed followed by an adjutant and the regimental -paymaster. - -Prince Andrew rose hastily, listened to the business they had come -about, gave them some further instructions, and was about to dismiss -them when he heard a familiar, lisping, voice behind the shed. - -"Devil take it!" said the voice of a man stumbling over something. - -Prince Andrew looked out of the shed and saw Pierre, who had tripped -over a pole on the ground and had nearly fallen, coming his way. It -was unpleasant to Prince Andrew to meet people of his own set in -general, and Pierre especially, for he reminded him of all the painful -moments of his last visit to Moscow. - -"You? What a surprise!" said he. "What brings you here? This is -unexpected!" - -As he said this his eyes and face expressed more than coldness- they -expressed hostility, which Pierre noticed at once. He had approached -the shed full of animation, but on seeing Prince Andrew's face he felt -constrained and ill at ease. - -"I have come... simply... you know... come... it interests me," said -Pierre, who had so often that day senselessly repeated that word -"interesting." "I wish to see the battle." - -"Oh yes, and what do the Masonic brothers say about war? How would -they stop it?" said Prince Andrew sarcastically. "Well, and how's -Moscow? And my people? Have they reached Moscow at last?" he asked -seriously. - -"Yes, they have. Julie Drubetskaya told me so. I went to see them, -but missed them. They have gone to your estate near Moscow." - -CHAPTER XXV - -The officers were about to take leave, but Prince Andrew, apparently -reluctant to be left alone with his friend, asked them to stay and -have tea. Seats were brought in and so was the tea. The officers gazed -with surprise at Pierre's huge stout figure and listened to his talk -of Moscow and the position of our army, round which he had ridden. -Prince Andrew remained silent, and his expression was so forbidding -that Pierre addressed his remarks chiefly to the good-natured -battalion commander. - -"So you understand the whole position of our troops?" Prince -Andrew interrupted him. - -"Yes- that is, how do you mean?" said Pierre. "Not being a -military man I can't say I have understood it fully, but I -understand the general position." - -"Well, then, you know more than anyone else, be it who it may," said -Prince Andrew. - -"Oh!" said Pierre, looking over his spectacles in perplexity at -Prince Andrew. "Well, and what do think of Kutuzov's appointment?" -he asked. - -"I was very glad of his appointment, that's all I know," replied -Prince Andrew. - -"And tell me your opinion of Barclay de Tolly. In Moscow they are -saying heaven knows what about him.... What do you think of him?" - -"Ask them," replied Prince Andrew, indicating the officers. - -Pierre looked at Timokhin with the condescendingly interrogative -smile with which everybody involuntarily addressed that officer. - -"We see light again, since his Serenity has been appointed, your -excellency," said Timokhin timidly, and continually turning to -glance at his colonel. - -"Why so?" asked Pierre. - -"Well, to mention only firewood and fodder, let me inform you. -Why, when we were retreating from Sventsyani we dare not touch a stick -or a wisp of hay or anything. You see, we were going away, so he would -get it all; wasn't it so, your excellency?" and again Timokhin -turned to the prince. "But we daren't. In our regiment two officers -were court-martialed for that kind of thing. But when his Serenity -took command everything became straight forward. Now we see light..." - -"Then why was it forbidden?" - -Timokhin looked about in confusion, not knowing what or how to -answer such a question. Pierre put the same question to Prince Andrew. - -"Why, so as not to lay waste the country we were abandoning to the -enemy," said Prince Andrew with venomous irony. "It is very sound: one -can't permit the land to be pillaged and accustom the troops to -marauding. At Smolensk too he judged correctly that the French might -outflank us, as they had larger forces. But he could not understand -this," cried Prince Andrew in a shrill voice that seemed to escape him -involuntarily: "he could not understand that there, for the first -time, we were fighting for Russian soil, and that there was a spirit -in the men such as I had never seen before, that we had held the -French for two days, and that that success had increased our -strength tenfold. He ordered us to retreat, and all our efforts and -losses went for nothing. He had no thought of betraying us, he tried -to do the best he could, he thought out everything, and that is why he -is unsuitable. He is unsuitable now, just because he plans out -everything very thoroughly and accurately as every German has to. -How can I explain?... Well, say your father has a German valet, and he -is a splendid valet and satisfies your father's requirements better -than you could, then it's all right to let him serve. But if your -father is mortally sick you'll send the valet away and attend to -your father with your own unpracticed, awkward hands, and will -soothe him better than a skilled man who is a stranger could. So it -has been with Barclay. While Russia was well, a foreigner could -serve her and be a splendid minister; but as soon as she is in -danger she needs one of her own kin. But in your Club they have been -making him out a traitor! They slander him as a traitor, and the -only result will be that afterwards, ashamed of their false -accusations, they will make him out a hero or a genius instead of a -traitor, and that will be still more unjust. He is an honest and -very punctilious German." - -"And they say he's a skillful commander," rejoined Pierre. - -"I don't understand what is meant by 'a skillful commander,'" -replied Prince Andrew ironically. - -"A skillful commander?" replied Pierre. "Why, one who foresees all -contingencies... and foresees the adversary's intentions." - -"But that's impossible," said Prince Andrew as if it were a matter -settled long ago. - -Pierre looked at him in surprise. - -"And yet they say that war is like a game of chess?" he remarked. - -"Yes," replied Prince Andrew, "but with this little difference, that -in chess you may think over each move as long as you please and are -not limited for time, and with this difference too, that a knight is -always stronger than a pawn, and two pawns are always stronger than -one, while in war a battalion is sometimes stronger than a division -and sometimes weaker than a company. The relative strength of bodies -of troops can never be known to anyone. Believe me," he went on, "if -things depended on arrangements made by the staff, I should be there -making arrangements, but instead of that I have the honor to serve -here in the regiment with these gentlemen, and I consider that on us -tomorrow's battle will depend and not on those others.... Success -never depends, and never will depend, on position, or equipment, or -even on numbers, and least of all on position." - -"But on what then?" - -"On the feeling that is in me and in him," he pointed to Timokhin, -"and in each soldier." - -Prince Andrew glanced at Timokhin, who looked at his commander in -alarm and bewilderment. In contrast to his former reticent taciturnity -Prince Andrew now seemed excited. He could apparently not refrain from -expressing the thoughts that had suddenly occurred to him. - -"A battle is won by those who firmly resolve to win it! Why did we -lose the battle at Austerlitz? The French losses were almost equal -to ours, but very early we said to ourselves that we were losing the -battle, and we did lose it. And we said so because we had nothing to -fight for there, we wanted to get away from the battlefield as soon as -we could. 'We've lost, so let us run,' and we ran. If we had not -said that till the evening, heaven knows what might not have happened. -But tomorrow we shan't say it! You talk about our position, the left -flank weak and the right flank too extended," he went on. "That's -all nonsense, there's nothing of the kind. But what awaits us -tomorrow? A hundred million most diverse chances which will be decided -on the instant by the fact that our men or theirs run or do not run, -and that this man or that man is killed, but all that is being done at -present is only play. The fact is that those men with whom you have -ridden round the position not only do not help matters, but hinder. -They are only concerned with their own petty interests." - -"At such a moment?" said Pierre reproachfully. - -"At such a moment!" Prince Andrew repeated. "To them it is only a -moment affording opportunities to undermine a rival and obtain an -extra cross or ribbon. For me tomorrow means this: a Russian army of a -hundred thousand and a French army of a hundred thousand have met to -fight, and the thing is that these two hundred thousand men will fight -and the side that fights more fiercely and spares itself least will -win. And if you like I will tell you that whatever happens and -whatever muddles those at the top may make, we shall win tomorrow's -battle. Tomorrow, happen what may, we shall win!" - -"There now, your excellency! That's the truth, the real truth," said -Timokhin. "Who would spare himself now? The soldiers in my -battalion, believe me, wouldn't drink their vodka! 'It's not the day -for that!' they say." - -All were silent. The officers rose. Prince Andrew went out of the -shed with them, giving final orders to the adjutant. After they had -gone Pierre approached Prince Andrew and was about to start a -conversation when they heard the clatter of three horses' hoofs on the -road not far from the shed, and looking in that direction Prince -Andrew recognized Wolzogen and Clausewitz accompanied by a Cossack. -They rode close by continuing to converse, and Prince Andrew -involuntarily heard these words: - -"Der Krieg muss in Raum verlegt werden. Der Ansicht kann ich nicht -genug Preis geben,"~{ "The war must be extended widely. I cannot sufficiently commend -that view." }~ said one of them. - -"Oh, ja," said the other, "der Zweck ist nur den Feind zu schwachen, -so kann man gewiss nicht den Verlust der Privat-Personen in Achtung -nehmen."~{ "Oh, yes, the only aim is to weaken the enemy, so of course one -cannot take into account the loss of private individuals." }~ - -"Oh, no," agreed the other. - -"Extend widely!" said Prince Andrew with an angry snort, when they -had ridden past. "In that 'extend' were my father, son, and sister, at -Bald Hills. That's all the same to him! That's what I was saying to -you- those German gentlemen won't win the battle tomorrow but will -only make all the mess they can, because they have nothing in their -German heads but theories not worth an empty eggshell and haven't in -their hearts the one thing needed tomorrow- that which Timokhin has. -They have yielded up all Europe to him, and have now come to teach us. -Fine teachers!" and again his voice grew shrill. - -"So you think we shall win tomorrow's battle?" asked Pierre. - -"Yes, yes," answered Prince Andrew absently. "One thing I would do -if I had the power," he began again, "I would not take prisoners. -Why take prisoners? It's chivalry! The French have destroyed my home -and are on their way to destroy Moscow, they have outraged and are -outraging me every moment. They are my enemies. In my opinion they are -all criminals. And so thinks Timokhin and the whole army. They -should be executed! Since they are my foes they cannot be my -friends, whatever may have been said at Tilsit." - -"Yes, yes," muttered Pierre, looking with shining eyes at Prince -Andrew. "I quite agree with you!" - -The question that had perturbed Pierre on the Mozhaysk hill and -all that day now seemed to him quite clear and completely solved. He -now understood the whole meaning and importance of this war and of the -impending battle. All he had seen that day, all the significant and -stern expressions on the faces he had seen in passing, were lit up for -him by a new light. He understood that latent heat (as they say in -physics) of patriotism which was present in all these men he had seen, -and this explained to him why they all prepared for death calmly, -and as it were lightheartedly. - -"Not take prisoners," Prince Andrew continued: "That by itself would -quite change the whole war and make it less cruel. As it is we have -played at war- that's what's vile! We play at magnanimity and all that -stuff. Such magnanimity and sensibility are like the magnanimity and -sensibility of a lady who faints when she sees a calf being killed: -she is so kind-hearted that she can't look at blood, but enjoys eating -the calf served up with sauce. They talk to us of the rules of war, of -chivalry, of flags of truce, of mercy to the unfortunate and so on. -It's all rubbish! I saw chivalry and flags of truce in 1805; they -humbugged us and we humbugged them. They plunder other people's -houses, issue false paper money, and worst of all they kill my -children and my father, and then talk of rules of war and -magnanimity to foes! Take no prisoners, but kill and be killed! He who -has come to this as I have through the same sufferings..." - -Prince Andrew, who had thought it was all the same to him whether or -not Moscow was taken as Smolensk had been, was suddenly checked in his -speech by an unexpected cramp in his throat. He paced up and down a -few times in silence, but his eyes glittered feverishly and his lips -quivered as he began speaking. - -"If there was none of this magnanimity in war, we should go to war -only when it was worth while going to certain death, as now. Then -there would not be war because Paul Ivanovich had offended Michael -Ivanovich. And when there was a war, like this one, it would be war! -And then the determination of the troops would be quite different. -Then all these Westphalians and Hessians whom Napoleon is leading -would not follow him into Russia, and we should not go to fight in -Austria and Prussia without knowing why. War is not courtesy but the -most horrible thing in life; and we ought to understand that and not -play at war. We ought to accept this terrible necessity sternly and -seriously. It all lies in that: get rid of falsehood and let war be -war and not a game. As it is now, war is the favorite pastime of the -idle and frivolous. The military calling is the most highly honored. - -"But what is war? What is needed for success in warfare? What are -the habits of the military? The aim of war is murder; the methods of -war are spying, treachery, and their encouragement, the ruin of a -country's inhabitants, robbing them or stealing to provision the army, -and fraud and falsehood termed military craft. The habits of the -military class are the absence of freedom, that is, discipline, -idleness, ignorance, cruelty, debauchery, and drunkenness. And in -spite of all this it is the highest class, respected by everyone. -All the kings, except the Chinese, wear military uniforms, and he -who kills most people receives the highest rewards. - -"They meet, as we shall meet tomorrow, to murder one another; they -kill and maim tens of thousands, and then have thanksgiving services -for having killed so many people (they even exaggerate the number), -and they announce a victory, supposing that the more people they -have killed the greater their achievement. How does God above look -at them and hear them?" exclaimed Prince Andrew in a shrill, -piercing voice. "Ah, my friend, it has of late become hard for me to -live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. And it doesn't -do for man to taste of the tree of knowledge of good and evil.... -Ah, well, it's not for long!" he added. - -"However, you're sleepy, and it's time for me to sleep. Go back to -Gorki!" said Prince Andrew suddenly. - -"Oh no!" Pierre replied, looking at Prince Andrew with frightened, -compassionate eyes. - -"Go, go! Before a battle one must have one's sleep out," repeated -Prince Andrew. - -He came quickly up to Pierre and embraced and kissed him. -"Good-by, be off!" he shouted. "Whether we meet again or not..." -and turning away hurriedly he entered the shed. - -It was already dark, and Pierre could not make out whether the -expression of Prince Andrew's face was angry or tender. - -For some time he stood in silence considering whether he should -follow him or go away. "No, he does not want it!" Pierre concluded. -"And I know that this is our last meeting!" He sighed deeply and -rode back to Gorki. - -On re-entering the shed Prince Andrew lay down on a rug, but he -could not sleep. - -He closed his eyes. One picture succeeded another in his -imagination. On one of them he dwelt long and joyfully. He vividly -recalled an evening in Petersburg. Natasha with animated and excited -face was telling him how she had gone to look for mushrooms the -previous summer and had lost her way in the big forest. She -incoherently described the depths of the forest, her feelings, and a -talk with a beekeeper she met, and constantly interrupted her story to -say: "No, I can't! I'm not telling it right; no, you don't -understand," though he encouraged her by saying that he did -understand, and he really had understood all she wanted to say. But -Natasha was not satisfied with her own words: she felt that they did -not convey the passionately poetic feeling she had experienced that -day and wished to convey. "He was such a delightful old man, and it -was so dark in the forest... and he had such kind... No, I can't -describe it," she had said, flushed and excited. Prince Andrew -smiled now the same happy smile as then when he had looked into her -eyes. "I understood her," he thought. "I not only understood her, -but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that -frankness of soul- that very soul of hers which seemed to be -fettered by her body- it was that soul I loved in her... loved so -strongly and happily..." and suddenly he remembered how his love had -ended. "He did not need anything of that kind. He neither saw nor -understood anything of the sort. He only saw in her a pretty and fresh -young girl, with whom he did not deign to unite his fate. And I?... -and he is still alive and gay!" - -Prince Andrew jumped up as if someone had burned him, and again -began pacing up and down in front of the shed. - -CHAPTER XXVI - -On August 25, the eve of the battle of Borodino, M. de Beausset, -prefect of the French Emperor's palace, arrived at Napoleon's quarters -at Valuevo with Colonel Fabvier, the former from Paris and the -latter from Madrid. - -Donning his court uniform, M. de Beausset ordered a box he had -brought for the Emperor to be carried before him and entered the first -compartment of Napoleon's tent, where he began opening the box while -conversing with Napoleon's aides-de-camp who surrounded him. - -Fabvier, not entering the tent, remained at the entrance talking -to some generals of his acquaintance. - -The Emperor Napoleon had not yet left his bedroom and was -finishing his toilet. Slightly snorting and grunting, he presented now -his back and now his plump hairy chest to the brush with which his -valet was rubbing him down. Another valet, with his finger over the -mouth of a bottle, was sprinkling Eau de Cologne on the Emperor's -pampered body with an expression which seemed to say that he alone -knew where and how much Eau de Cologne should be sprinkled. Napoleon's -short hair was wet and matted on the forehead, but his face, though -puffy and yellow, expressed physical satisfaction. "Go on, harder, -go on!" he muttered to the valet who was rubbing him, slightly -twitching and grunting. An aide-de-camp, who had entered the bedroom -to report to the Emperor the number of prisoners taken in -yesterday's action, was standing by the door after delivering his -message, awaiting permission to withdraw. Napoleon, frowning, looked -at him from under his brows. - -"No prisoners!" said he, repeating the aide-de-camp's words. "They -are forcing us to exterminate them. So much the worse for the -Russian army.... Go on... harder, harder!" he muttered, hunching his -back and presenting his fat shoulders. - -"All right. Let Monsieur de Beausset enter, and Fabvier too," he -said, nodding to the aide-de-camp. - -"Yes, sire," and the aide-de-camp disappeared through the door of -the tent. - -Two valets rapidly dressed His Majesty, and wearing the blue uniform -of the Guards he went with firm quick steps to the reception room. - -De Beausset's hands meanwhile were busily engaged arranging the -present he had brought from the Empress, on two chairs directly in -front of the entrance. But Napoleon had dressed and come out with such -unexpected rapidity that he had not time to finish arranging the -surprise. - -Napoleon noticed at once what they were about and guessed that -they were not ready. He did not wish to deprive them of the pleasure -of giving him a surprise, so he pretended not to see de Beausset and -called Fabvier to him, listening silently and with a stern frown to -what Fabvier told him of the heroism and devotion of his troops -fighting at Salamanca, at the other end of Europe, with but one -thought- to be worthy of their Emperor- and but one fear- to fail to -please him. The result of that battle had been deplorable. Napoleon -made ironic remarks during Fabvier's account, as if he had not -expected that matters could go otherwise in his absence. - -"I must make up for that in Moscow," said Napoleon. "I'll see you -later," he added, and summoned de Beausset, who by that time had -prepared the surprise, having placed something on the chairs and -covered it with a cloth. - -De Beausset bowed low, with that courtly French bow which only the -old retainers of the Bourbons knew how to make, and approached him, -presenting an envelope. - -Napoleon turned to him gaily and pulled his ear. - -"You have hurried here. I am very glad. Well, what is Paris saying?" -he asked, suddenly changing his former stern expression for a most -cordial tone. - -"Sire, all Paris regrets your absence," replied de Beausset as was -proper. - -But though Napoleon knew that de Beausset had to say something of -this kind, and though in his lucid moments he knew it was untrue, he -was pleased to hear it from him. Again he honored him by touching -his ear. - -"I am very sorry to have made you travel so far," said he. - -"Sire, I expected nothing less than to find you at the gates of -Moscow," replied de Beausset. - -Napoleon smiled and, lifting his head absentmindedly, glanced to the -right. An aide-de-camp approached with gliding steps and offered him a -gold snuffbox, which he took. - -"Yes, it has happened luckily for you," he said, raising the open -snuffbox to his nose. "You are fond of travel, and in three days you -will see Moscow. You surely did not expect to see that Asiatic -capital. You will have a pleasant journey." - -De Beausset bowed gratefully at this regard for his taste for travel -(of which he had not till then been aware). - -"Ha, what's this?" asked Napoleon, noticing that all the courtiers -were looking at something concealed under a cloth. - -With courtly adroitness de Beausset half turned and without -turning his back to the Emperor retired two steps, twitching off the -cloth at the same time, and said: - -"A present to Your Majesty from the Empress." - -It was a portrait, painted in bright colors by Gerard, of the son -borne to Napoleon by the daughter of the Emperor of Austria, the boy -whom for some reason everyone called "The King of Rome." - -A very pretty curly-headed boy with a look of the Christ in the -Sistine Madonna was depicted playing at stick and ball. The ball -represented the terrestrial globe and the stick in his other hand a -scepter. - -Though it was not clear what the artist meant to express by -depicting the so-called King of Rome spiking the earth with a stick, -the allegory apparently seemed to Napoleon, as it had done to all -who had seen it in Paris, quite clear and very pleasing. - -"The King of Rome!" he said, pointing to the portrait with a -graceful gesture. "Admirable!" - -With the natural capacity of an Italian for changing the -expression of his face at will, he drew nearer to the portrait and -assumed a look of pensive tenderness. He felt that what he now said -and did would be historical, and it seemed to him that it would now be -best for him- whose grandeur enabled his son to play stick and ball -with the terrestrial globe- to show, in contrast to that grandeur, the -simplest paternal tenderness. His eyes grew dim, he moved forward, -glanced round at a chair (which seemed to place itself under him), and -sat down on it before the portrait. At a single gesture from him -everyone went out on tiptoe, leaving the great man to himself and -his emotion. - -Having sat still for a while he touched- himself not knowing why- -the thick spot of paint representing the highest light in the -portrait, rose, and recalled de Beausset and the officer on duty. He -ordered the portrait to be carried outside his tent, that the Old -Guard, stationed round it, might not be deprived of the pleasure of -seeing the King of Rome, the son and heir of their adored monarch. - -And while he was doing M. de Beausset the honor of breakfasting with -him, they heard, as Napoleon had anticipated, the rapturous cries of -the officers and men of the Old Guard who had run up to see the -portrait. - -"Vive l'Empereur! Vive le roi de Rome! Vive l'Empereur!" came -those ecstatic cries. - -After breakfast Napoleon in de Beausset's presence dictated his -order of the day to the army. - -"Short and energetic!" he remarked when he had read over the -proclamation which he had dictated straight off without corrections. -It ran: - -Soldiers! This is the battle you have so longed for. Victory depends -on you. It is essential for us; it will give us all we need: -comfortable quarters and a speedy return to our country. Behave as you -did at Austerlitz, Friedland, Vitebsk, and Smolensk. Let our -remotest posterity recall your achievements this day with pride. Let -it be said of each of you: "He was in the great battle before Moscow!" - -"Before Moscow!" repeated Napoleon, and inviting M. de Beausset, who -was so fond of travel, to accompany him on his ride, he went out of -the tent to where the horses stood saddled. - -"Your Majesty is too kind!" replied de Beausset to the invitation to -accompany the Emperor; he wanted to sleep, did not know how to ride -and was afraid of doing so. - -But Napoleon nodded to the traveler, and de Beausset had to mount. -When Napoleon came out of the tent the shouting of the Guards before -his son's portrait grew still louder. Napoleon frowned. - -"Take him away!" he said, pointing with a gracefully majestic -gesture to the portrait. "It is too soon for him to see a field of -battle." - -De Beausset closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed deeply, to -indicate how profoundly he valued and comprehended the Emperor's -words. - -CHAPTER XXVII - -On the twenty-fifth of August, so his historians tell us, Napoleon -spent the whole day on horseback inspecting the locality, -considering plans submitted to him by his marshals, and personally -giving commands to his generals. - -The original line of the Russian forces along the river Kolocha -had been dislocated by the capture of the Shevardino Redoubt on the -twenty-fourth, and part of the line- the left flank- had been drawn -back. That part of the line was not entrenched and in front of it -the ground was more open and level than elsewhere. It was evident to -anyone, military or not, that it was here the French should attack. It -would seem that not much consideration was needed to reach this -conclusion, nor any particular care or trouble on the part of the -Emperor and his marshals, nor was there any need of that special and -supreme quality called genius that people are so apt to ascribe to -Napoleon; yet the historians who described the event later and the men -who then surrounded Napoleon, and he himself, thought otherwise. - -Napoleon rode over the plain and surveyed the locality with a -profound air and in silence, nodded with approval or shook his head -dubiously, and without communicating to the generals around him the -profound course of ideas which guided his decisions merely gave them -his final conclusions in the form of commands. Having listened to a -suggestion from Davout, who was now called Prince d'Eckmuhl, to turn -the Russian left wing, Napoleon said it should not be done, without -explaining why not. To a proposal made by General Campan (who was to -attack the fleches) to lead his division through the woods, Napoleon -agreed, though the so-called Duke of Elchingen (Ney) ventured to -remark that a movement through the woods was dangerous and might -disorder the division. - -Having inspected the country opposite the Shevardino Redoubt, -Napoleon pondered a little in silence and then indicated the spots -where two batteries should be set up by the morrow to act against -the Russian entrenchments, and the places where, in line with them, -the field artillery should be placed. - -After giving these and other commands he returned to his tent, and -the dispositions for the battle were written down from his dictation. - -These dispositions, of which the French historians write with -enthusiasm and other historians with profound respect, were as -follows: - -At dawn the two new batteries established during the night on the -plain occupied by the Prince d'Eckmuhl will open fire on the -opposing batteries of the enemy. - -At the same time the commander of the artillery of the 1st Corps, -General Pernetti, with thirty cannon of Campan's division and all -the howitzers of Dessaix's and Friant's divisions, will move -forward, open fire, and overwhelm with shellfire the enemy's -battery, against which will operate: - -``` block - 24 guns of the artillery of the Guards - 30 guns of Campan's division - -and 8 guns of Friant's and Dessaix's divisions - -- - -in all 62 guns. -``` - -The commander of the artillery of the 3rd Corps, General Fouche, -will place the howitzers of the 3rd and 8th Corps, sixteen in all, -on the flanks of the battery that is to bombard the entrenchment on -the left, which will have forty guns in all directed against it. - -General Sorbier must be ready at the first order to advance with all -the howitzers of the Guard's artillery against either one or other -of the entrenchments. - -During the cannonade Prince Poniatowski is to advance through the -wood on the village and turn the enemy's position. - -General Campan will move through the wood to seize the first -fortification. - -After the advance has begun in this manner, orders will be given -in accordance with the enemy's movements. - -The cannonade on the left flank will begin as soon as the guns of -the right wing are heard. The sharpshooters of Morand's division and -of the vice-King's division will open a heavy fire on seeing the -attack commence on the right wing. - -The vice-King will occupy the village and cross by its three -bridges, advancing to the same heights as Morand's and Gibrard's -divisions, which under his leadership will be directed against the -redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. - -All this must be done in good order (le tout se fera avec ordre et -methode) as far as possible retaining troops in reserve. - -``` block - The Imperial Camp near Mozhaysk, -September, 6, 1812. -``` - -These dispositions, which are very obscure and confused if one -allows oneself to regard the arrangements without religious awe of his -genius, related to Napoleon's orders to deal with four points- four -different orders. Not one of these was, or could be, carried out. - -In the disposition it is said first that the batteries placed on the -spot chosen by Napoleon, with the guns of Pernetti and Fouche; which -were to come in line with them, 102 guns in all, were to open fire and -shower shells on the Russian fleches and redoubts. This could not be -done, as from the spots selected by Napoleon the projectiles did not -carry to the Russian works, and those 102 guns shot into the air until -the nearest commander, contrary to Napoleon's instructions, moved them -forward. - -The second order was that Poniatowski, moving to the village through -the wood, should turn the Russian left flank. This could not be done -and was not done, because Poniatowski, advancing on the village -through the wood, met Tuchkov there barring his way, and could not and -did not turn the Russian position. - -The third order was: General Campan will move through the wood to -seize the first fortification. General Campan's division did not seize -the first fortification but was driven back, for on emerging from -the wood it had to reform under grapeshot, of which Napoleon was -unaware. - -The fourth order was: The vice-King will occupy the village -(Borodino) and cross by its three bridges, advancing to the same -heights as Morand's and Gdrard's divisions (for whose movements no -directions are given), which under his leadership will be directed -against the redoubt and come into line with the rest of the forces. - -As far as one can make out, not so much from this unintelligible -sentence as from the attempts the vice-King made to execute the orders -given him, he was to advance from the left through Borodino to the -redoubt while the divisions of Morand and Gerard were to advance -simultaneously from the front. - -All this, like the other parts of the disposition, was not and could -not be executed. After passing through Borodino the vice-King was -driven back to the Kolocha and could get no farther; while the -divisions of Morand and Gerard did not take the redoubt but were -driven back, and the redoubt was only taken at the end of the battle -by the cavalry (a thing probably unforeseen and not heard of by -Napoleon). So not one of the orders in the disposition was, or could -be, executed. But in the disposition it is said that, after the -fight has commenced in this manner, orders will be given in accordance -with the enemy's movements, and so it might be supposed that all -necessary arrangements would be made by Napoleon during the battle. -But this was not and could not be done, for during the whole battle -Napoleon was so far away that, as appeared later, he could not know -the course of the battle and not one of his orders during the fight -could be executed. - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -Many historians say that the French did not win the battle of -Borodino because Napoleon had a cold, and that if he had not had a -cold the orders he gave before and during the battle would have been -still more full of genius and Russia would have been lost and the face -of the world have been changed. To historians who believe that -Russia was shaped by the will of one man- Peter the Great- and that -France from a republic became an empire and French armies went to -Russia at the will of one man- Napoleon- to say that Russia remained a -power because Napoleon had a bad cold on the twenty-fourth of August -may seem logical and convincing. - -If it had depended on Napoleon's will to fight or not to fight the -battle of Borodino, and if this or that other arrangement depended -on his will, then evidently a cold affecting the manifestation of -his will might have saved Russia, and consequently the valet who -omitted to bring Napoleon his waterproof boots on the twenty-fourth -would have been the savior of Russia. Along that line of thought -such a deduction is indubitable, as indubitable as the deduction -Voltaire made in jest (without knowing what he was jesting at) when he -saw that the Massacre of St. Bartholomew was due to Charles IX's -stomach being deranged. But to men who do not admit that Russia was -formed by the will of one man, Peter I, or that the French Empire -was formed and the war with Russia begun by the will of one man, -Napoleon, that argument seems not merely untrue and irrational, but -contrary to all human reality. To the question of what causes historic -events another answer presents itself, namely, that the course of -human events is predetermined from on high- depends on the coincidence -of the wills of all who take part in the events, and that a Napoleon's -influence on the course of these events is purely external and -fictitious. - -Strange as at first glance it may seem to suppose that the -Massacre of St. Bartholomew was not due to Charles IX's will, though -he gave the order for it and thought it was done as a result of that -order; and strange as it may seem to suppose that the slaughter of -eighty thousand men at Borodino was not due to Napoleon's will, though -he ordered the commencement and conduct of the battle and thought it -was done because he ordered it; strange as these suppositions -appear, yet human dignity- which tells me that each of us is, if not -more at least not less a man than the great Napoleon- demands the -acceptance of that solution of the question, and historic -investigation abundantly confirms it. - -At the battle of Borodino Napoleon shot at no one and killed no one. -That was all done by the soldiers. Therefore it was not he who -killed people. - -The French soldiers went to kill and be killed at the battle of -Borodino not because of Napoleon's orders but by their own volition. -The whole army- French, Italian, German, Polish, and Dutch- hungry, -ragged, and weary of the campaign, felt at the sight of an army -blocking their road to Moscow that the wine was drawn and must be -drunk. Had Napoleon then forbidden them to fight the Russians, they -would have killed him and have proceeded to fight the Russians because -it was inevitable. - -When they heard Napoleon's proclamation offering them, as -compensation for mutilation and death, the words of posterity about -their having been in the battle before Moscow, they cried "Vive -l'Empereur!" just as they had cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at the sight of -the portrait of the boy piercing the terrestrial globe with a toy -stick, and just as they would have cried "Vive l'Empereur!" at any -nonsense that might be told them. There was nothing left for them to -do but cry "Vive l'Empereur!" and go to fight, in order to get food -and rest as conquerors in Moscow. So it was not because of -Napoleon's commands that they killed their fellow men. - -And it was not Napoleon who directed the course of the battle, for -none of his orders were executed and during the battle he did not know -what was going on before him. So the way in which these people -killed one another was not decided by Napoleon's will but occurred -independently of him, in accord with the will of hundreds of thousands -of people who took part in the common action. It only seemed to -Napoleon that it all took place by his will. And so the question -whether he had or had not a cold has no more historic interest than -the cold of the least of the transport soldiers. - -Moreover, the assertion made by various writers that his cold was -the cause of his dispositions not being as well planned as on former -occasions, and of his orders during the battle not being as good as -previously, is quite baseless, which again shows that Napoleon's -cold on the twenty-sixth of August was unimportant. - -The dispositions cited above are not at all worse, but are even -better, than previous dispositions by which he had won victories. -His pseudo-orders during the battle were also no worse than -formerly, but much the same as usual. These dispositions and orders -only seem worse than previous ones because the battle of Borodino -was the first Napoleon did not win. The profoundest and most excellent -dispositions and orders seem very bad, and every learned militarist -criticizes them with looks oks importance, when they relate to a -battle that has been lost, and the very worst dispositions and -orders seem very good, and serious people fill whole volumes to -demonstrate their merits, when they relate to a battle that has been -won. - -The dispositions drawn up by Weyrother for the battle of -Austerlitz were a model of perfection for that kind of composition, -but still they were criticized- criticized for their very -perfection, for their excessive minuteness. - -Napoleon at the battle of Borodino fulfilled his office as -representative of authority as well as, and even better than, at other -battles. He did nothing harmful to the progress of the battle; he -inclined to the most reasonable opinions, he made no confusion, did -not contradict himself, did not get frightened or run away from the -field of battle, but with his great tact and military experience -carried out his role of appearing to command, calmly and with dignity. - -CHAPTER XXIX - -On returning from a second inspection of the lines, Napoleon -remarked: - -"The chessmen are set up, the game will begin tomorrow!" - -Having ordered punch and summoned de Beausset, he began to talk to -him about Paris and about some changes he meant to make the Empress' -household, surprising the prefect by his memory of minute details -relating to the court. - -He showed an interest in trifles, joked about de Beausset's love -of travel, and chatted carelessly, as a famous, self-confident surgeon -who knows his job does when turning up his sleeves and putting on -his apron while a patient is being strapped to the operating table. -"The matter is in my hands and is clear and definite in my head. -When the times comes to set to work I shall do it as no one else -could, but now I can jest, and the more I jest and the calmer I am the -more tranquil and confident you ought to be, and the more amazed at my -genius." - -Having finished his second glass of punch, Napoleon went to rest -before the serious business which, he considered, awaited him next -day. He was so much interested in that task that he was unable to -sleep, and in spite of his cold which had grown worse from the -dampness of the evening, he went into the large division of the tent -at three o'clock in the morning, loudly blowing his nose. He asked -whether the Russians had not withdrawn, and was told that the -enemy's fires were still in the same places. He nodded approval. - -The adjutant in attendance came into the tent. - -"Well, Rapp, do you think we shall do good business today?" Napoleon -asked him. - -"Without doubt, sire," replied Rapp. - -Napoleon looked at him. - -"Do you remember, sire, what you did me the honor to say at -Smolensk?" continued Rapp. "The wine is drawn and must be drunk." - -Napoleon frowned and sat silent for a long time leaning his head -on his hand. - -"This poor army!" he suddenly remarked. "It has diminished greatly -since Smolensk. Fortune is frankly a courtesan, Rapp. I have always -said so and I am beginning to experience it. But the Guards, Rapp, the -Guards are intact?" he remarked interrogatively. - -"Yes, sire," replied Rapp. - -Napoleon took a lozenge, put it in his mouth, and glanced at his -watch. He was not sleepy and it was still not nearly morning. It was -impossible to give further orders for the sake of killing time, for -the orders had all been given and were now being executed. - -"Have the biscuits and rice been served out to the regiments of -the Guards?" asked Napoleon sternly. - -"Yes, sire." - -"The rice too?" - -Rapp replied that he had given the Emperor's order about the rice, -but Napoleon shook his head in dissatisfaction as if not believing -that his order had been executed. An attendant came in with punch. -Napoleon ordered another glass to be brought for Rapp, and silently -sipped his own. - -"I have neither taste nor smell," he remarked, sniffing at his -glass. "This cold is tiresome. They talk about medicine- what is the -good of medicine when it can't cure a cold! Corvisart gave me these -lozenges but they don't help at all. What can doctors cure? One -can't cure anything. Our body is a machine for living. It is organized -for that, it is its nature. Let life go on in it unhindered and let it -defend itself, it will do more than if you paralyze it by -encumbering it with remedies. Our body is like a perfect watch that -should go for a certain time; watchmaker cannot open it, he can only -adjust it by fumbling, and that blindfold.... Yes, our body is just -a machine for living, that is all." - -And having entered on the path of definition, of which he was -fond, Napoleon suddenly and unexpectedly gave a new one. - -"Do you know, Rapp, what military art is?" asked he. "It is the -art of being stronger than the enemy at a given moment. That's all." - -Rapp made no reply. - -"Tomorrow we shall have to deal with Kutuzov!" said Napoleon. "We -shall see! Do you remember at Braunau he commanded an army for three -weeks and did not once mount a horse to inspect his -entrenchments.... We shall see!" - -He looked at his watch. It was still only four o'clock. He did not -feel sleepy. The punch was finished and there was still nothing to do. -He rose, walked to and fro, put on a warm overcoat and a hat, and went -out of the tent. The night was dark and damp, a scarcely perceptible -moisture was descending from above. Near by, the campfires were -dimly burning among the French Guards, and in the distance those of -the Russian line shone through the smoke. The weather was calm, and -the rustle and tramp of the French troops already beginning to move to -take up their positions were clearly audible. - -Napoleon walked about in front of his tent, looked at the fires -and listened to these sounds, and as he was passing a tall guardsman -in a shaggy cap, who was standing sentinel before his tent and had -drawn himself up like a black pillar at sight of the Emperor, Napoleon -stopped in front of him. - -"What year did you enter the service?" he asked with that -affectation of military bluntness and geniality with which he always -addressed the soldiers. - -The man answered the question. - -"Ah! One of the old ones! Has your regiment had its rice?" - -"It has, Your Majesty." - -Napoleon nodded and walked away. - -At half-past five Napoleon rode to the village of Shevardino. - -It was growing light, the sky was clearing, only a single cloud -lay in the east. The abandoned campfires were burning themselves out -in the faint morning light. - -On the right a single deep report of a cannon resounded and died -away in the prevailing silence. Some minutes passed. A second and a -third report shook the air, then a fourth and a fifth boomed -solemnly near by on the right. - -The first shots had not yet ceased to reverberate before others rang -out and yet more were heard mingling with and overtaking one another. - -Napoleon with his suite rode up to the Shevardino Redoubt where he -dismounted. The game had begun. - -CHAPTER XXX - -On returning to Gorki after having seen Prince Andrew, Pierre -ordered his groom to get the horses ready and to call him early in the -morning, and then immediately fell asleep behind a partition in a -corner Boris had given up to him. - -Before he was thoroughly awake next morning everybody had already -left the hut. The panes were rattling in the little windows and his -groom was shaking him. - -"Your excellency! Your excellency! Your excellency!" he kept -repeating pertinaciously while he shook Pierre by the shoulder without -looking at him, having apparently lost hope of getting him to wake up. - -"What? Has it begun? Is it time?" Pierre asked, waking up. - -"Hear the firing," said the groom, a discharged soldier. "All the -gentlemen have gone out, and his Serene Highness himself rode past -long ago." - -Pierre dressed hastily and ran out to the porch. Outside all was -bright, fresh, dewy, and cheerful. The sun, just bursting forth from -behind a cloud that had concealed it, was shining, with rays still -half broken by the clouds, over the roofs of the street opposite, on -the dew-besprinkled dust of the road, on the walls of the houses, on -the windows, the fence, and on Pierre's horses standing before the -hut. The roar of guns sounded more distinct outside. An adjutant -accompanied by a Cossack passed by at a sharp trot. - -"It's time, Count; it's time!" cried the adjutant. - -Telling the groom to follow him with the horses, Pierre went down -the street to the knoll from which he had looked at the field of -battle the day before. A crowd of military men was assembled there, -members of the staff could be heard conversing in French, and -Kutuzov's gray head in a white cap with a red band was visible, his -gray nape sunk between his shoulders. He was looking through a field -glass down the highroad before him. - -Mounting the steps to the knoll Pierre looked at the scene before -him, spellbound by beauty. It was the same panorama he had admired -from that spot the day before, but now the whole place was full of -troops and covered by smoke clouds from the guns, and the slanting -rays of the bright sun, rising slightly to the left behind Pierre, -cast upon it through the clear morning air penetrating streaks of -rosy, golden tinted light and long dark shadows. The forest at the -farthest extremity of the panorama seemed carved in some precious -stone of a yellowish-green color; its undulating outline was -silhouetted against the horizon and was pierced beyond Valuevo by -the Smolensk highroad crowded with troops. Nearer at hand glittered -golden cornfields interspersed with copses. There were troops to be -seen everywhere, in front and to the right and left. All this was -vivid, majestic, and unexpected; but what impressed Pierre most of all -was the view of the battlefield itself, of Borodino and the hollows on -both sides of the Kolocha. - -Above the Kolocha, in Borodino and on both sides of it, especially -to the left where the Voyna flowing between its marshy banks falls -into the Kolocha, a mist had spread which seemed to melt, to dissolve, -and to become translucent when the brilliant sun appeared and -magically colored and outlined everything. The smoke of the guns -mingled with this mist, and over the whole expanse and through that -mist the rays of the morning sun were reflected, flashing back like -lightning from the water, from the dew, and from the bayonets of the -troops crowded together by the riverbanks and in Borodino. A white -church could be seen through the mist, and here and there the roofs of -huts in Borodino as well as dense masses of soldiers, or green -ammunition chests and ordnance. And all this moved, or seemed to move, -as the smoke and mist spread out over the whole space. Just as in -the mist-enveloped hollow near Borodino, so along the entire line -outside and above it and especially in the woods and fields to the -left, in the valleys and on the summits of the high ground, clouds -of powder smoke seemed continually to spring up out of nothing, now -singly, now several at a time, some translucent, others dense, -which, swelling, growing, rolling, and blending, extended over the -whole expanse. - -These puffs of smoke and (strange to say) the sound of sound of -the firing produced the chief beauty of the spectacle. - -"Puff!"- suddenly a round compact cloud of smoke was seen merging -from violet into gray and milky white, and "boom!" came the report a -second later. - -"Puff! puff!"- and two clouds arose pushing one another and blending -together; and "boom, boom!" came the sounds confirming what the eye -had seen. - -Pierre glanced round at the first cloud, which he had seen as a -round compact ball, and in its place already were balloons of smoke -floating to one side, and- "puff" (with a pause)- "puff, puff!" -three and then four more appeared and then from each, with the same -interval- "boom- boom, boom!" came the fine, firm, precise sounds in -reply. It seemed as if those smoke clouds sometimes ran and -sometimes stood still while woods, fields, and glittering bayonets ran -past them. From the left, over fields and bushes, those large balls of -smoke were continually appearing followed by their solemn reports, -while nearer still, in the hollows and woods, there burst from the -muskets small cloudlets that had no time to become balls, but had -their little echoes in just the same way. "Trakh-ta-ta-takh!" came the -frequent crackle of musketry, but it was irregular and feeble in -comparison with the reports of the cannon. - -Pierre wished to be there with that smoke, those shining bayonets, -that movement, and those sounds. He turned to look at Kutuzov and -his suite, to compare his impressions with those of others. They -were all looking at the field of battle as he was, and, as it seemed -to him, with the same feelings. All their faces were now shining -with that latent warmth of feeling Pierre had noticed the day before -and had fully understood after his talk with Prince Andrew. - -"Go, my dear fellow, go... and Christ be with you!" Kutuzov was -saying to a general who stood beside him, not taking his eye from -the battlefield. - -Having received this order the general passed by Pierre on his way -down the knoll. - -"To the crossing!" said the general coldly and sternly in reply to -one of the staff who asked where he was going. - -"I'll go there too, I too!" thought Pierre, and followed the -general. - -The general mounted a horse a Cossack had brought him. Pierre went -to his groom who was holding his horses and, asking which was the -quietest, clambered onto it, seized it by the mane, and turning out -his toes pressed his heels against its sides and, feeling that his -spectacles were slipping off but unable to let go of the mane and -reins, he galloped after the general, causing the staff officers to -smile as they watched him from the knoll. - -CHAPTER XXXI - -Having descended the hill the general after whom Pierre was -galloping turned sharply to the left, and Pierre, losing sight of him, -galloped in among some ranks of infantry marching ahead of him. He -tried to pass either in front of them or to the right or left, but -there were soldiers everywhere, all with expression and busy with some -unseen but evidently important task. They all gazed with the same -dissatisfied and inquiring expression at this stout man in a white -hat, who for some unknown reason threatened to trample them under -his horse's hoofs. - -"Why ride into the middle of the battalion?" one of them shouted -at him. - -Another prodded his horse with the butt end of a musket, and Pierre, -bending over his saddlebow and hardly able to control his shying -horse, galloped ahead of the soldiers where there was a free space. - -There was a bridge ahead of him, where other soldiers stood -firing. Pierre rode up to them. Without being aware of it he had -come to the bridge across the Kolocha between Gorki and Borodino, -which the French (having occupied Borodino) were attacking in the -first phase of the battle. Pierre saw that there was a bridge in front -of him and that soldiers were doing something on both sides of it -and in the meadow, among the rows of new-mown hay which he had taken -no notice of amid the smoke of the campfires the day before; but -despite the incessant firing going on there he had no idea that this -was the field of battle. He did not notice the sound of the bullets -whistling from every side, or the projectiles that flew over him, -did not see the enemy on the other side of the river, and for a long -time did not notice the killed and wounded, though many fell near him. -He looked about him with a smile which did not leave his face. - -"Why's that fellow in front of the line?" shouted somebody at him -again. - -"To the left!... Keep to the right!" the men shouted to him. - -Pierre went to the right, and unexpectedly encountered one of -Raevski's adjutants whom he knew. The adjutant looked angrily at -him, evidently also intending to shout at him, but on recognizing -him he nodded. - -"How have you got here?" he said, and galloped on. - -Pierre, feeling out of place there, having nothing to do, and afraid -of getting in someone's way again, galloped after the adjutant. - -"What's happening here? May I come with you?" he asked. - -"One moment, one moment!" replied the adjutant, and riding up to a -stout colonel who was standing in the meadow, he gave him some message -and then addressed Pierre. - -"Why have you come here, Count?" he asked with a smile. "Still -inquisitive?" - -"Yes, yes," assented Pierre. - -But the adjutant turned his horse about and rode on. - -"Here it's tolerable," said he, "but with Bagration on the left -flank they're getting it frightfully hot." - -"Really?" said Pierre. "Where is that?" - -"Come along with me to our knoll. We can get a view from there and -in our battery it is still bearable," said the adjutant. "Will you -come?" - -"Yes, I'll come with you," replied Pierre, looking round for his -groom. - -It was only now that he noticed wounded men staggering along or -being carried on stretchers. On that very meadow he had ridden over -the day before, a soldier was lying athwart the rows of scented hay, -with his head thrown awkwardly back and his shako off. - -"Why haven't they carried him away?" Pierre was about to ask, but -seeing the stern expression of the adjutant who was also looking -that way, he checked himself. - -Pierre did not find his groom and rode along the hollow with the -adjutant to Raevski's Redoubt. His horse lagged behind the -adjutant's and jolted him at every step. - -"You don't seem to be used to riding, Count?" remarked the adjutant. - -"No it's not that, but her action seems so jerky," said Pierre in -a puzzled tone. - -"Why... she's wounded!" said the adjutant. "In the off foreleg above -the knee. A bullet, no doubt. I congratulate you, Count, on your -baptism of fire!" - -Having ridden in the smoke past the Sixth Corps, behind the -artillery which had been moved forward and was in action, deafening -them with the noise of firing, they came to a small wood. There it was -cool and quiet, with a scent of autumn. Pierre and the adjutant -dismounted and walked up the hill on foot. - -"Is the general here?" asked the adjutant on reaching the knoll. - -"He was here a minute ago but has just gone that way," someone -told him, pointing to the right. - -The adjutant looked at Pierre as if puzzled what to do with him now. - -"Don't trouble about me," said Pierre. "I'll go up onto the knoll if -I may?" - -"Yes, do. You'll see everything from there and it's less -dangerous, and I'll come for you." - -Pierre went to the battery and the adjutant rode on. They did not -meet again, and only much later did Pierre learn that he lost an arm -that day. - -The knoll to which Pierre ascended was that famous one afterwards -known to the Russians as the Knoll Battery or Raevski's Redoubt, and -to the French as la grande redoute, la fatale redoute, la redoute du -centre, around which tens of thousands fell, and which the French -regarded as the key to the whole position. - -This redoubt consisted of a knoll, on three sides of which -trenches had been dug. Within the entrenchment stood ten guns that -were being fired through openings in the earthwork. - -In line with the knoll on both sides stood other guns which also -fired incessantly. A little behind the guns stood infantry. When -ascending that knoll Pierre had no notion that this spot, on which -small trenches had been dug and from which a few guns were firing, was -the most important point of the battle. - -On the contrary, just because he happened to be there he thought -it one of the least significant parts of the field. - -Having reached the knoll, Pierre sat down at one end of a trench -surrounding the battery and gazed at what was going on around him with -an unconsciously happy smile. Occasionally he rose and walked about -the battery still with that same smile, trying not to obstruct the -soldiers who were loading, hauling the guns, and continually running -past him with bags and charges. The guns of that battery were being -fired continually one after another with a deafening roar, -enveloping the whole neighborhood in powder smoke. - -In contrast with the dread felt by the infantrymen placed in -support, here in the battery where a small number of men busy at their -work were separated from the rest by a trench, everyone experienced -a common and as it were family feeling of animation. - -The intrusion of Pierre's nonmilitary figure in a white hat made -an unpleasant impression at first. The soldiers looked askance at -him with surprise and even alarm as they went past him. The senior -artillery officer, a tall, long-legged, pockmarked man, moved over -to Pierre as if to see the action of the farthest gun and looked at -him with curiosity. - -A young round-faced officer, quite a boy still and evidently only -just out of the Cadet College, who was zealously commanding the two -guns entrusted to him, addressed Pierre sternly. - -"Sir," he said, "permit me to ask you to stand aside. You must not -be here." - -The soldiers shook their heads disapprovingly as they looked at -Pierre. But when they had convinced themselves that this man in the -white hat was doing no harm, but either sat quietly on the slope of -the trench with a shy smile or, politely making way for the -soldiers, paced up and down the battery under fire as calmly as if -he were on a boulevard, their feeling of hostile distrust gradually -began to change into a kindly and bantering sympathy, such as soldiers -feel for their dogs, cocks, goats, and in general for the animals that -live with the regiment. The men soon accepted Pierre into their -family, adopted him, gave him a nickname ("our gentleman"), and made -kindly fun of him among themselves. - -A shell tore up the earth two paces from Pierre and he looked around -with a smile as he brushed from his clothes some earth it had thrown -up. - -"And how's it you're not afraid, sir, really now?" a red-faced, -broad-shouldered soldier asked Pierre, with a grin that disclosed a -set of sound, white teeth. - -"Are you afraid, then?" said Pierre. - -"What else do you expect?" answered the soldier. "She has no -mercy, you know! When she comes spluttering down, out go your innards. -One can't help being afraid," he said laughing. - -Several of the men, with bright kindly faces, stopped beside Pierre. -They seemed not to have expected him to talk like anybody else, and -the discovery that he did so delighted them. - -"It's the business of us soldiers. But in a gentleman it's -wonderful! There's a gentleman for you!" - -"To your places!" cried the young officer to the men gathered -round Pierre. - -The young officer was evidently exercising his duties for the -first or second time and therefore treated both his superiors and -the men with great precision and formality. - -The booming cannonade and the fusillade of musketry were growing -more intense over the whole field, especially to the left where -Bagration's fleches were, but where Pierre was the smoke of the firing -made it almost impossible to distinguish anything. Moreover, his whole -attention was engrossed by watching the family circle- separated -from all else- formed by the men in the battery. His first unconscious -feeling of joyful animation produced by the sights and sounds of the -battlefield was now replaced by another, especially since he had -seen that soldier lying alone in the hayfield. Now, seated on the -slope of the trench, he observed the faces of those around him. - -By ten o'clock some twenty men had already been carried away from -the battery; two guns were smashed and cannon balls fell more and more -frequently on the battery and spent bullets buzzed and whistled -around. But the men in the battery seemed not to notice this, and -merry voices and jokes were heard on all sides. - -"A live one!" shouted a man as a whistling shell approached. - -"Not this way! To the infantry!" added another with loud laughter, -seeing the shell fly past and fall into the ranks of the supports. - -"Are you bowing to a friend, eh?" remarked another, chaffing a -peasant who ducked low as a cannon ball flew over. - -Several soldiers gathered by the wall of the trench, looking out -to see what was happening in front. - -"They've withdrawn the front line, it has retired," said they, -pointing over the earthwork. - -"Mind your own business," an old sergeant shouted at them. "If -they've retired it's because there's work for them to do farther -back." - -And the sergeant, taking one of the men by the shoulders, gave him a -shove with his knee. This was followed by a burst of laughter. - -"To the fifth gun, wheel it up!" came shouts from one side. - -"Now then, all together, like bargees!" rose the merry voices of -those who were moving the gun. - -"Oh, she nearly knocked our gentleman's hat off!" cried the -red-faced humorist, showing his teeth chaffing Pierre. "Awkward -baggage!" he added reproachfully to a cannon ball that struck a cannon -wheel and a man's leg. - -"Now then, you foxes!" said another, laughing at some militiamen -who, stooping low, entered the battery to carry away the wounded man. - -"So this gruel isn't to your taste? Oh, you crows! You're scared!" -they shouted at the militiamen who stood hesitating before the man -whose leg had been torn off. - -"There, lads... oh, oh!" they mimicked the peasants, "they don't -like it at all!" - -Pierre noticed that after every ball that hit the redoubt, and after -every loss, the liveliness increased more and more. - -As the flames of the fire hidden within come more and more vividly -and rapidly from an approaching thundercloud, so, as if in -opposition to what was taking place, the lightning of hidden fire -growing more and more intense glowed in the faces of these men. - -Pierre did not look out at the battlefield and was not concerned -to know what was happening there; he was entirely absorbed in watching -this fire which burned ever more brightly and which he felt was -flaming up in the same way in his own soul. - -At ten o'clock the infantry that had been among the bushes in -front of the battery and along the Kamenka streamlet retreated. From -the battery they could be seen running back past it carrying their -wounded on their muskets. A general with his suite came to the -battery, and after speaking to the colonel gave Pierre an angry look -and went away again having ordered the infantry supports behind the -battery to lie down, so as to be less exposed to fire. After this from -amid the ranks of infantry to the right of the battery came the -sound of a drum and shouts of command, and from the battery one saw -how those ranks of infantry moved forward. - -Pierre looked over the wall of the trench and was particularly -struck by a pale young officer who, letting his sword hang down, was -walking backwards and kept glancing uneasily around. - -The ranks of the infantry disappeared amid the smoke but their -long-drawn shout and rapid musketry firing could still be heard. A few -minutes later crowds of wounded men and stretcher-bearers came back -from that direction. Projectiles began to fall still more frequently -in the battery. Several men were lying about who had not been removed. -Around the cannon the men moved still more briskly and busily. No -one any longer took notice of Pierre. Once or twice he was shouted -at for being in the way. The senior officer moved with big, rapid -strides from one gun to another with a frowning face. The young -officer, with his face still more flushed, commanded the men more -scrupulously than ever. The soldiers handed up the charges, turned, -loaded, and did their business with strained smartness. They gave -little jumps as they walked, as though they were on springs. - -The stormcloud had come upon them, and in every face the fire -which Pierre had watched kindle burned up brightly. Pierre standing -beside the commanding officer. The young officer, his hand to his -shako, ran up to his superior. - -"I have the honor to report, sir, that only eight rounds are left. -Are we to continue firing?" he asked. - -"Grapeshot!" the senior shouted, without answering the question, -looking over the wall of the trench. - -Suddenly something happened: the young officer gave a gasp and -bending double sat down on the ground like a bird shot on the wing. -Everything became strange, confused, and misty in Pierre's eyes. - -One cannon ball after another whistled by and struck the -earthwork, a soldier, or a gun. Pierre, who had not noticed these -sounds before, now heard nothing else. On the right of the battery -soldiers shouting "Hurrah!" were running not forwards but backwards, -it seemed to Pierre. - -A cannon ball struck the very end of the earth work by which he -was standing, crumbling down the earth; a black ball flashed before -his eyes and at the same instant plumped into something. Some -militiamen who were entering the battery ran back. - -"All with grapeshot!" shouted the officer. - -The sergeant ran up to the officer and in a frightened whisper -informed him (as a butler at dinner informs his master that there is -no more of some wine asked for) that there were no more charges. - -"The scoundrels! What are they doing?" shouted the officer, -turning to Pierre. - -The officer's face was red and perspiring and his eyes glittered -under his frowning brow. - -"Run to the reserves and bring up the ammunition boxes!" he -yelled, angrily avoiding Pierre with his eyes and speaking to his men. - -"I'll go," said Pierre. - -The officer, without answering him, strode across to the opposite -side. - -"Don't fire.... Wait!" he shouted. - -The man who had been ordered to go for ammunition stumbled against -Pierre. - -"Eh, sir, this is no place for you," said he, and ran down the -slope. - -Pierre ran after him, avoiding the spot where the young officer -was sitting. - -One cannon ball, another, and a third flew over him, falling in -front, beside, and behind him. Pierre ran down the slope. "Where am -I going?" he suddenly asked himself when he was already near the green -ammunition wagons. He halted irresolutely, not knowing whether to -return or go on. Suddenly a terrible concussion threw him backwards to -the ground. At the same instant he was dazzled by a great flash of -flame, and immediately a deafening roar, crackling, and whistling made -his ears tingle. - -When he came to himself he was sitting on the ground leaning on -his hands; the ammunition wagons he had been approaching no longer -existed, only charred green boards and rags littered the scorched -grass, and a horse, dangling fragments of its shaft behind it, -galloped past, while another horse lay, like Pierre, on the ground, -uttering prolonged and piercing cries. - -CHAPTER XXXII - -Beside himself with terror Pierre jumped up and ran back to the -battery, as to the only refuge from the horrors that surrounded him. - -On entering the earthwork he noticed that there were men doing -something there but that no shots were being fired from the battery. -He had no time to realize who these men were. He saw the senior -officer lying on the earth wall with his back turned as if he were -examining something down below and that one of the soldiers he had -noticed before was struggling forward shouting "Brothers!" and -trying to free himself from some men who were holding him by the -arm. He also saw something else that was strange. - -But he had not time to realize that the colonel had been killed, -that the soldier shouting "Brothers!" was a prisoner, and that another -man had been bayoneted in the back before his eyes, for hardly had -he run into the redoubt before a thin, sallow-faced, perspiring man in -a blue uniform rushed on him sword in hand, shouting something. -Instinctively guarding against the shock- for they had been running -together at full speed before they saw one another- Pierre put out his -hands and seized the man (a French officer) by the shoulder with one -hand and by the throat with the other. The officer, dropping his -sword, seized Pierre by his collar. - -For some seconds they gazed with frightened eyes at one another's -unfamiliar faces and both were perplexed at what they had done and -what they were to do next. "Am I taken prisoner or have I taken him -prisoner?" each was thinking. But the French officer was evidently -more inclined to think he had been taken prisoner because Pierre's -strong hand, impelled by instinctive fear, squeezed his throat ever -tighter and tighter. The Frenchman was about to say something, when -just above their heads, terrible and low, a cannon ball whistled, -and it seemed to Pierre that the French officer's head had been torn -off, so swiftly had he ducked it. - -Pierre too bent his head and let his hands fall. Without further -thought as to who had taken whom prisoner, the Frenchman ran back to -the battery and Pierre ran down the slope stumbling over the dead -and wounded who, it seemed to him, caught at his feet. But before he -reached the foot of the knoll he was met by a dense crowd of Russian -soldiers who, stumbling, tripping up, and shouting, ran merrily and -wildly toward the battery. (This was the attack for which Ermolov -claimed the credit, declaring that only his courage and good luck made -such a feat possible: it was the attack in which he was said to have -thrown some St. George's Crosses he had in his pocket into the battery -for the first soldiers to take who got there.) - -The French who had occupied the battery fled, and our troops -shouting "Hurrah!" pursued them so far beyond the battery that it -was difficult to call them back. - -The prisoners were brought down from the battery and among them -was a wounded French general, whom the officers surrounded. Crowds -of wounded- some known to Pierre and some unknown- Russians and -French, with faces distorted by suffering, walked, crawled, and were -carried on stretchers from the battery. Pierre again went up onto -the knoll where he had spent over an hour, and of that family circle -which had received him as a member he did not find a single one. There -were many dead whom he did not know, but some he recognized. The young -officer still sat in the same way, bent double, in a pool of blood -at the edge of the earth wall. The red-faced man was still -twitching, but they did not carry him away. - -Pierre ran down the slope once more. - -"Now they will stop it, now they will be horrified at what they have -done!" he thought, aimlessly going toward a crowd of stretcher bearers -moving from the battlefield. - -But behind the veil of smoke the sun was still high, and in front -and especially to the left, near Semenovsk, something seemed to be -seething in the smoke, and the roar of cannon and musketry did not -diminish, but even increased to desperation like a man who, -straining himself, shrieks with all his remaining strength. - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -The chief action of the battle of Borodino was fought within the -seven thousand feet between Borodino and Bagration's fleches. Beyond -that space there was, on the one side, a demonstration made by the -Russians with Uvarov's cavalry at midday, and on the other side, -beyond Utitsa, Poniatowski's collision with Tuchkov; but these two -were detached and feeble actions in comparison with what took place in -the center of the battlefield. On the field between Borodino and the -fleches, beside the wood, the chief action of the day took place on an -open space visible from both sides and was fought in the simplest -and most artless way. - -The battle began on both sides with a cannonade from several hundred -guns. - -Then when the whole field was covered with smoke, two divisions, -Campan's and Dessaix's, advanced from the French right, while -Murat's troops advanced on Borodino from their left. - -From the Shevardino Redoubt where Napoleon was standing the -fleches were two thirds of a mile away, and it was more than a mile as -the crow flies to Borodino, so that Napoleon could not see what was -happening there, especially as the smoke mingling with the mist hid -the whole locality. The soldiers of Dessaix's division advancing -against the fleches could only be seen till they had entered the -hollow that lay between them and the fleches. As soon as they had -descended into that hollow, the smoke of the guns and musketry on -the fleches grew so dense that it covered the whole approach on that -side of it. Through the smoke glimpses could be caught of something -black- probably men- and at times the glint of bayonets. But whether -they were moving or stationary, whether they were French or Russian, -could not be discovered from the Shevardino Redoubt. - -The sun had risen brightly and its slanting rays struck straight -into Napoleon's face as, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked -at the fleches. The smoke spread out before them, and at times it -looked as if the smoke were moving, at times as if the troops moved. -Sometimes shouts were heard through the firing, but it was -impossible to tell what was being done there. - -Napoleon, standing on the knoll, looked through a field glass, and -in its small circlet saw smoke and men, sometimes his own and -sometimes Russians, but when he looked again with the naked eye, he -could not tell where what he had seen was. - -He descended the knoll and began walking up and down before it. - -Occasionally he stopped, listened to the firing, and gazed -intently at the battlefield. - -But not only was it impossible to make out what was happening from -where he was standing down below, or from the knoll above on which -some of his generals had taken their stand, but even from the -fleches themselves- in which by this time there were now Russian and -now French soldiers, alternately or together, dead, wounded, alive, -frightened, or maddened- even at those fleches themselves it was -impossible to make out what was taking place. There for several -hours amid incessant cannon and musketry fire, now Russians were -seen alone, now Frenchmen alone, now infantry, and now cavalry: they -appeared, fired, fell, collided, not knowing what to do with one -another, screamed, and ran back again. - -From the battlefield adjutants he had sent out, and orderlies from -his marshals, kept galloping up to Napoleon with reports of the -progress of the action, but all these reports were false, both because -it was impossible in the heat of battle to say what was happening at -any given moment and because many of the adjutants did not go to the -actual place of conflict but reported what they had heard from others; -and also because while an adjutant was riding more than a mile to -Napoleon circumstances changed and the news he brought was already -becoming false. Thus an adjutant galloped up from Murat with tidings -that Borodino had been occupied and the bridge over the Kolocha was in -the hands of the French. The adjutant asked whether Napoleon wished -the troops to cross it? Napoleon gave orders that the troops should -form up on the farther side and wait. But before that order was given- -almost as soon in fact as the adjutant had left Borodino- the bridge -had been retaken by the Russians and burned, in the very skirmish at -which Pierre had been present at the beginning of the battle. - -An adjutant galloped up from the fleches with a pale and -frightened face and reported to Napoleon that their attack had been -repulsed, Campan wounded, and Davout killed; yet at the very time -the adjutant had been told that the French had been repulsed, the -fleches had in fact been recaptured by other French troops, and Davout -was alive and only slightly bruised. On the basis of these necessarily -untrustworthy reports Napoleon gave his orders, which had either -been executed before he gave them or could not be and were not -executed. - -The marshals and generals, who were nearer to the field of battle -but, like Napoleon, did not take part in the actual fighting and -only occasionally went within musket range, made their own -arrangements without asking Napoleon and issued orders where and in -what direction to fire and where cavalry should gallop and infantry -should run. But even their orders, like Napoleon's, were seldom -carried out, and then but partially. For the most part things happened -contrary to their orders. Soldiers ordered to advance ran back on -meeting grapeshot; soldiers ordered to remain where they were, -suddenly, seeing Russians unexpectedly before them, sometimes rushed -back and sometimes forward, and the cavalry dashed without orders in -pursuit of the flying Russians. In this way two cavalry regiments -galloped through the Semenovsk hollow and as soon as they reached -the top of the incline turned round and galloped full speed back -again. The infantry moved in the same way, sometimes running to -quite other places than those they were ordered to go to. All orders -as to where and when to move the guns, when to send infantry to -shoot or horsemen to ride down the Russian infantry- all such orders -were given by the officers on the spot nearest to the units concerned, -without asking either Ney, Davout, or Murat, much less Napoleon. -They did not fear getting into trouble for not fulfilling orders or -for acting on their own initiative, for in battle what is at stake -is what is dearest to man- his own life- and it sometimes seems that -safety lies in running back, sometimes in running forward; and these -men who were right in the heat of the battle acted according to the -mood of the moment. In reality, however, all these movements forward -and backward did not improve or alter the position of the troops. -All their rushing and galloping at one another did little harm, the -harm of disablement and death was caused by the balls and bullets that -flew over the fields on which these men were floundering about. As -soon as they left the place where the balls and bullets were flying -about, their superiors, located in the background, re-formed them -and brought them under discipline and under the influence of that -discipline led them back to the zone of fire, where under the -influence of fear of death they lost their discipline and rushed about -according to the chance promptings of the throng. - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -Napoleon's generals- Davout, Ney, and Murat, who were near that -region of fire and sometimes even entered it- repeatedly led into it -huge masses of well-ordered troops. But contrary to what had always -happened in their former battles, instead of the news they expected of -the enemy's flight, these orderly masses returned thence as -disorganized and terrified mobs. The generals re-formed them, but -their numbers constantly decreased. In the middle of the day Murat -sent his adjutant to Napoleon to demand reinforcements. - -Napoleon sat at the foot of the knoll, drinking punch, when -Murat's adjutant galloped up with an assurance that the Russians would -be routed if His Majesty would let him have another division. - -"Reinforcements?" said Napoleon in a tone of stern surprise, looking -at the adjutant- a handsome lad with long black curls arranged like -Murat's own- as though he did not understand his words. - -"Reinforcements!" thought Napoleon to himself. "How can they need -reinforcements when they already have half the army directed against a -weak, unentrenched Russian wing?" - -"Tell the King of Naples," said he sternly, "that it is not noon -yet, and I don't yet see my chessboard clearly. Go!..." - -The handsome boy adjutant with the long hair sighed deeply without -removing his hand from his hat and galloped back to where men were -being slaughtered. - -Napoleon rose and having summoned Caulaincourt and Berthier began -talking to them about matters unconnected with the battle. - -In the midst of this conversation, which was beginning to interest -Napoleon, Berthier's eyes turned to look at a general with a suite, -who was galloping toward the knoll on a lathering horse. It was -Belliard. Having dismounted he went up to the Emperor with rapid -strides and in a loud voice began boldly demonstrating the necessity -of sending reinforcements. He swore on his honor that the Russians -were lost if the Emperor would give another division. - -Napoleon shrugged his shoulders and continued to pace up and down -without replying. Belliard began talking loudly and eagerly to the -generals of the suite around him. - -"You are very fiery, Belliard," said Napoleon, when he again came up -to the general. "In the heat of a battle it is easy to make a mistake. -Go and have another look and then come back to me." - -Before Belliard was out of sight, a messenger from another part of -the battlefield galloped up. - -"Now then, what do you want?" asked Napoleon in the tone of a man -irritated at being continually disturbed. - -"Sire, the prince..." began the adjutant. - -"Asks for reinforcements?" said Napoleon with an angry gesture. - -The adjutant bent his head affirmatively and began to report, but -the Emperor turned from him, took a couple of steps, stopped, came -back, and called Berthier. - -"We must give reserves," he said, moving his arms slightly apart. -"Who do you think should be sent there?" he asked of Berthier (whom he -subsequently termed "that gosling I have made an eagle"). - -"Send Claparede's division, sire," replied Berthier, who knew all -the divisions regiments, and battalions by heart. - -Napoleon nodded assent. - -The adjutant galloped to Claparede's division and a few minutes -later the Young Guards stationed behind the knoll moved forward. -Napoleon gazed silently in that direction. - -"No!" he suddenly said to Berthier. "I can't send Claparede. Send -Friant's division." - -Though there was no advantage in sending Friant's division instead -of Claparede's, and even in obvious inconvenience and delay in -stopping Claparede and sending Friant now, the order was carried out -exactly. Napoleon did not notice that in regard to his army he was -playing the part of a doctor who hinders by his medicines- a role he -so justly understood and condemned. - -Friant's division disappeared as the others had done into the -smoke of the battlefield. From all sides adjutants continued to arrive -at a gallop and as if by agreement all said the same thing. They all -asked for reinforcements and all said that the Russians were holding -their positions and maintaining a hellish fire under which the -French army was melting away. - -Napoleon sat on a campstool, wrapped in thought. - -M. de Beausset, the man so fond of travel, having fasted since -morning, came up to the Emperor and ventured respectfully to suggest -lunch to His Majesty. - -"I hope I may now congratulate Your Majesty on a victory?" said he. - -Napoleon silently shook his head in negation. Assuming the -negation to refer only to the victory and not to the lunch, M. de -Beausset ventured with respectful jocularity to remark that there is -no reason for not having lunch when one can get it. - -"Go away..." exclaimed Napoleon suddenly and morosely, and turned -aside. - -A beatific smile of regret, repentance, and ecstasy beamed on M. -de Beausset's face and he glided away to the other generals. - -Napoleon was experiencing a feeling of depression like that of an -ever-lucky gambler who, after recklessly flinging money about and -always winning, suddenly just when he has calculated all the chances -of the game, finds that the more he considers his play the more surely -he loses. - -His troops were the same, his generals the same, the same -preparations had been made, the same dispositions, and the same -proclamation courte et energique, he himself was still the same: he -knew that and knew that he was now even more experienced and -skillful than before. Even the enemy was the same as at Austerlitz and -Friedland- yet the terrible stroke of his arm had supernaturally -become impotent. - -All the old methods that had been unfailingly crowned with -success: the concentration of batteries on one point, an attack by -reserves to break the enemy's line, and a cavalry attack by "the men -of iron," all these methods had already been employed, yet not only -was there no victory, but from all sides came the same news of -generals killed and wounded, of reinforcements needed, of the -impossibility of driving back the Russians, and of disorganization -among his own troops. - -Formerly, after he had given two or three orders and uttered a few -phrases, marshals and adjutants had come galloping up with -congratulations and happy faces, announcing the trophies taken, the -corps of prisoners, bundles of enemy eagles and standards, cannon -and stores, and Murat had only begged leave to loose the cavalry to -gather in the baggage wagons. So it had been at Lodi, Marengo, Arcola, -Jena, Austerlitz, Wagram, and so on. But now something strange was -happening to his troops. - -Despite news of the capture of the fleches, Napoleon saw that this -was not the same, not at all the same, as what had happened in his -former battles. He saw that what he was feeling was felt by all the -men about him experienced in the art of war. All their faces looked -dejected, and they all shunned one another's eyes- only a de -Beausset could fail to grasp the meaning of what was happening. - -But Napoleon with his long experience of war well knew the meaning -of a battle not gained by the attacking side in eight hours, after all -efforts had been expended. He knew that it was a lost battle and -that the least accident might now- with the fight balanced on such a -strained center- destroy him and his army. - -When he ran his mind over the whole of this strange Russian campaign -in which not one battle had been won, and in which not a flag, or -cannon, or army corps had been captured in two months, when he -looked at the concealed depression on the faces around him and heard -reports of the Russians still holding their ground- a terrible feeling -like a nightmare took possession of him, and all the unlucky accidents -that might destroy him occurred to his mind. The Russians might fall -on his left wing, might break through his center, he himself might -be killed by a stray cannon ball. All this was possible. In former -battles he had only considered the possibilities of success, but now -innumerable unlucky chances presented themselves, and he expected them -all. Yes, it was like a dream in which a man fancies that a ruffian is -coming to attack him, and raises his arm to strike that ruffian a -terrible blow which he knows should annihilate him, but then feels -that his arm drops powerless and limp like a rag, and the horror of -unavoidable destruction seizes him in his helplessness. - -The news that the Russians were attacking the left flank of the -French army aroused that horror in Napoleon. He sat silently on a -campstool below the knoll, with head bowed and elbows on his knees. -Berthier approached and suggested that they should ride along the line -to ascertain the position of affairs. - -"What? What do you say?" asked Napoleon. "Yes, tell them to bring me -my horse." - -He mounted and rode toward Semenovsk. - -Amid the powder smoke, slowly dispersing over the whole space -through which Napoleon rode, horses and men were lying in pools of -blood, singly or in heaps. Neither Napoleon nor any of his generals -had ever before seen such horrors or so many slain in such a small -area. The roar of guns, that had not ceased for ten hours, wearied the -ear and gave a peculiar significance to the spectacle, as music does -to tableaux vivants. Napoleon rode up the high ground at Semenovsk, -and through the smoke saw ranks of men in uniforms of a color -unfamiliar to him. They were Russians. - -The Russians stood in serried ranks behind Semenovsk village and its -knoll, and their guns boomed incessantly along their line and sent -forth clouds of smoke. It was no longer a battle: it was a -continuous slaughter which could be of no avail either to the French -or the Russians. Napoleon stopped his horse and again fell into the -reverie from which Berthier had aroused him. He could not stop what -was going on before him and around him and was supposed to be directed -by him and to depend on him, and from its lack of success this affair, -for the first time, seemed to him unnecessary and horrible. - -One of the generals rode up to Napoleon and ventured to offer to -lead the Old Guard into action. Ney and Berthier, standing near -Napoleon, exchanged looks and smiled contemptuously at this -general's senseless offer. - -Napoleon bowed his head and remained silent a long time. - -"At eight hundred leagues from France, I will not have my Guard -destroyed!" he said, and turning his horse rode back to Shevardino. - -CHAPTER XXXV - -On the rug-covered bench where Pierre had seen him in the morning -sat Kutuzov, his gray head hanging, his heavy body relaxed. He gave no -orders, but only assented to or dissented from what others suggested. - -"Yes, yes, do that," he replied to various proposals. "Yes, yes: go, -dear boy, and have a look," he would say to one or another of those -about him; or, "No, don't, we'd better wait!" He listened to the -reports that were brought him and gave directions when his -subordinates demanded that of him; but when listening to the reports -it seemed as if he were not interested in the import of the words -spoken, but rather in something else- in the expression of face and -tone of voice of those who were reporting. By long years of military -experience he knew, and with the wisdom of age understood, that it -is impossible for one man to direct hundreds of thousands of others -struggling with death, and he knew that the result of a battle is -decided not by the orders of a commander in chief, nor the place where -the troops are stationed, nor by the number of cannon or of -slaughtered men, but by that intangible force called the spirit of the -army, and he watched this force and guided it in as far as that was in -his power. - -Kutuzov's general expression was one of concentrated quiet -attention, and his face wore a strained look as if he found it -difficult to master the fatigue of his old and feeble body. - -At eleven o'clock they brought him news that the fleches captured by -the French had been retaken, but that Prince Bagration was wounded. -Kutuzov groaned and swayed his head. - -"Ride over to Prince Peter Ivanovich and find out about it exactly," -he said to one of his adjutants, and then turned to the Duke of -Wurttemberg who was standing behind him. - -"Will Your Highness please take command of the first army?" - -Soon after the duke's departure- before he could possibly have -reached Semenovsk- his adjutant came back from him and told Kutuzov -that the duke asked for more troops. - -Kutuzov made a grimace and sent an order to Dokhturov to take over -the command of the first army, and a request to the duke- whom he said -he could not spare at such an important moment- to return to him. When -they brought him news that Murat had been taken prisoner, and the -staff officers congratulated him, Kutuzov smiled. - -"Wait a little, gentlemen," said he. "The battle is won, and there -is nothing extraordinary in the capture of Murat. Still, it is -better to wait before we rejoice." - -But he sent an adjutant to take the news round the army. - -When Scherbinin came galloping from the left flank with news that -the French had captured the fleches and the village of Semenovsk, -Kutuzov, guessing by the sounds of the battle and by Scherbinin's -looks that the news was bad, rose as if to stretch his legs and, -taking Scherbinin's arm, led him aside. - -"Go, my dear fellow," he said to Ermolov, "and see whether something -can't be done." - -Kutuzov was in Gorki, near the center of the Russian position. The -attack directed by Napoleon against our left flank had been several -times repulsed. In the center the French had not got beyond -Borodino, and on their left flank Uvarov's cavalry had put the -French to flight. - -Toward three o'clock the French attacks ceased. On the faces of -all who came from the field of battle, and of those who stood around -him, Kutuzov noticed an expression of extreme tension. He was -satisfied with the day's success- a success exceeding his -expectations, but the old man's strength was failing him. Several -times his head dropped low as if it were falling and he dozed off. -Dinner was brought him. - -Adjutant General Wolzogen, the man who when riding past Prince -Andrew had said, "the war should be extended widely," and whom -Bagration so detested, rode up while Kutuzov was at dinner. Wolzogen -had come from Barclay de Tolly to report on the progress of affairs on -the left flank. The sagacious Barclay de Tolly, seeing crowds of -wounded men running back and the disordered rear of the army, -weighed all the circumstances, concluded that the battle was lost, and -sent his favorite officer to the commander in chief with that news. - -Kutuzov was chewing a piece of roast chicken with difficulty and -glanced at Wolzogen with eyes that brightened under their puckering -lids. - -Wolzogen, nonchalantly stretching his legs, approached Kutuzov -with a half-contemptuous smile on his lips, scarcely touching the peak -of his cap. - -He treated his Serene Highness with a somewhat affected -nonchalance intended to show that, as a highly trained military man, -he left it to Russians to make an idol of this useless old man, but -that he knew whom he was dealing with. "Der alte Herr" (as in their -own set the Germans called Kutuzov) "is making himself very -comfortable," thought Wolzogen, and looking severely at the dishes -in front of Kutuzov he began to report to "the old gentleman" the -position of affairs on the left flank as Barclay had ordered him to -and as he himself had seen and understood it. - -"All the points of our position are in the enemy's hands and we -cannot dislodge them for lack of troops, the men are running away -and it is impossible to stop them," he reported. - -Kutuzov ceased chewing and fixed an astonished gaze on Wolzogen, -as if not understand what was said to him. Wolzogen, noticing "the old -gentleman's" agitation, said with a smile: - -"I have not considered it right to conceal from your Serene Highness -what I have seen. The troops are in complete disorder..." - -"You have seen? You have seen?..." Kutuzov shouted frowning, and -rising quickly he went up to Wolzogen. - -"How... how dare you!..." he shouted, choking and making a -threatening gesture with his trembling arms: "How dare you, sir, say -that to me? You know nothing about it. Tell General Barclay from me -that his information is incorrect and that the real course of the -battle is better known to me, the commander in chief, than to him." - -Wolzogen was about to make a rejoinder, but Kutuzov interrupted him. - -"The enemy has been repulsed on the left and defeated on the right -flank. If you have seen amiss, sir, do not allow yourself to say -what you don't know! Be so good as to ride to General Barclay and -inform him of my firm intention to attack the enemy tomorrow," said -Kutuzov sternly. - -All were silent, and the only sound audible was the heavy -breathing of the panting old general. - -"They are repulsed everywhere, for which I thank God and our brave -army! The enemy is beaten, and tomorrow we shall drive him from the -sacred soil of Russia," said Kutuzov crossing himself, and he suddenly -sobbed as his eyes filled with tears. - -Wolzogen, shrugging his shoulders and curling his lips, stepped -silently aside, marveling at "the old gentleman's" conceited -stupidity. - -"Ah, here he is, my hero!" said Kutuzov to a portly, handsome, -dark-haired general who was just ascending the knoll. - -This was Raevski, who had spent the whole day at the most -important part of the field of Borodino. - -Raevski reported that the troops were firmly holding their ground -and that the French no longer ventured to attack. - -After hearing him, Kutuzov said in French: - -"Then you do not think, like some others, that we must retreat?" - -"On the contrary, your Highness, in indecisive actions it is -always the most stubborn who remain victors," replied Raevski, "and in -my opinion..." - -"Kaysarov!" Kutuzov called to his adjutant. "Sit down and write -out the order of the day for tomorrow. And you," he continued, -addressing another, "ride along the line and that tomorrow we attack." - -While Kutuzov was talking to Raevski and dictating the order of -the day, Wolzogen returned from Barclay and said that General -Barclay wished to have written confirmation of the order the field -marshal had given. - -Kutuzov, without looking at Wolzogen, gave directions for the -order to be written out which the former commander in chief, to -avoid personal responsibility, very judiciously wished to receive. - -And by means of that mysterious indefinable bond which maintains -throughout an army one and the same temper, known as "the spirit of -the army," and which constitutes the sinew of war, Kutuzov's words, -his order for a battle next day, immediately became known from one end -of the army to the other. - -It was far from being the same words or the same order that -reached the farthest links of that chain. The tales passing from mouth -to mouth at different ends of the army did not even resemble what -Kutuzov had said, but the sense of his words spread everywhere because -what he said was not the outcome of cunning calculations, but of a -feeling that lay in the commander in chief's soul as in that of -every Russian. - -And on learning that tomorrow they were to attack the enemy, and -hearing from the highest quarters a confirmation of what they wanted -to believe, the exhausted, wavering men felt comforted and inspirited. - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -Prince Andrew's regiment was among the reserves which till after one -o'clock were stationed inactive behind Semenovsk, under heavy -artillery fire. Toward two o'clock the regiment, having already lost -more than two hundred men, was moved forward into a trampled -oatfield in the gap between Semenovsk and the Knoll Battery, where -thousands of men perished that day and on which an intense, -concentrated fire from several hundred enemy guns was directed between -one and two o'clock. - -Without moving from that spot or firing a single shot the regiment -here lost another third of its men. From in front and especially -from the right, in the unlifting smoke the guns boomed, and out of the -mysterious domain of smoke that overlay the whole space in front, -quick hissing cannon balls and slow whistling shells flew unceasingly. -At times, as if to allow them a respite, a quarter of an hour passed -during which the cannon balls and shells all flew overhead, but -sometimes several men were torn from the regiment in a minute and -the slain were continually being dragged away and the wounded -carried off. - -With each fresh blow less and less chance of life remained for those -not yet killed. The regiment stood in columns of battalion, three -hundred paces apart, but nevertheless the men were always in one and -the same mood. All alike were taciturn and morose. Talk was rarely -heard in the ranks, and it ceased altogether every time the thud of -a successful shot and the cry of "stretchers!" was heard. Most of -the time, by their officers' order, the men sat on the ground. One, -having taken off his shako, carefully loosened the gathers of its -lining and drew them tight again; another, rubbing some dry clay -between his palms, polished his bayonet; another fingered the strap -and pulled the buckle of his bandolier, while another smoothed and -refolded his leg bands and put his boots on again. Some built little -houses of the tufts in the plowed ground, or plaited baskets from -the straw in the cornfield. All seemed fully absorbed in these -pursuits. When men were killed or wounded, when rows of stretchers -went past, when some troops retreated, and when great masses of the -enemy came into view through the smoke, no one paid any attention to -these things. But when our artillery or cavalry advanced or some of -our infantry were seen to move forward, words of approval were heard -on all sides. But the liveliest attention was attracted by occurrences -quite apart from, and unconnected with, the battle. It was as if the -minds of these morally exhausted men found relief in everyday, -commonplace occurrences. A battery of artillery was passing in front -of the regiment. The horse of an ammunition cart put its leg over a -trace. "Hey, look at the trace horse!... Get her leg out! She'll -fall.... Ah, they don't see it!" came identical shouts from the -ranks all along the regiment. Another time, general attention was -attracted by a small brown dog, coming heaven knows whence, which -trotted in a preoccupied manner in front of the ranks with tail -stiffly erect till suddenly a shell fell close by, when it yelped, -tucked its tail between its legs, and darted aside. Yells and -shrieks of laughter rose from the whole regiment. But such -distractions lasted only a moment, and for eight hours the men had -been inactive, without food, in constant fear of death, and their pale -and gloomy faces grew ever paler and gloomier. - -Prince Andrew, pale and gloomy like everyone in the regiment, -paced up and down from the border of one patch to another, at the edge -of the meadow beside an oatfield, with head bowed and arms behind -his back. There was nothing for him to do and no orders to be given. -Everything went on of itself. The killed were dragged from the -front, the wounded carried away, and the ranks closed up. If any -soldiers ran to the rear they returned immediately and hastily. At -first Prince Andrew, considering it his duty to rouse the courage of -the men and to set them an example, walked about among the ranks, -but he soon became convinced that this was unnecessary and that -there was nothing he could teach them. All the powers of his soul, -as of every soldier there, were unconsciously bent on avoiding the -contemplation of the horrors of their situation. He walked along the -meadow, dragging his feet, rustling the grass, and gazing at the -dust that covered his boots; now he took big strides trying to keep to -the footprints left on the meadow by the mowers, then he counted his -steps, calculating how often he must walk from one strip to another to -walk a mile, then he stripped the flowers from the wormwood that -grew along a boundary rut, rubbed them in his palms, and smelled their -pungent, sweetly bitter scent. Nothing remained of the previous -day's thoughts. He thought of nothing. He listened with weary ears -to the ever-recurring sounds, distinguishing the whistle of flying -projectiles from the booming of the reports, glanced at the tiresomely -familiar faces of the men of the first battalion, and waited. "Here it -comes... this one is coming our way again!" he thought, listening to -an approaching whistle in the hidden region of smoke. "One, another! -Again! It has hit...." He stopped and looked at the ranks. "No, it has -gone over. But this one has hit!" And again he started trying to reach -the boundary strip in sixteen paces. A whizz and a thud! Five paces -from him, a cannon ball tore up the dry earth and disappeared. A chill -ran down his back. Again he glanced at the ranks. Probably many had -been hit- a large crowd had gathered near the second battalion. - -"Adjutant!" he shouted. "Order them not to crowd together." - -The adjutant, having obeyed this instruction, approached Prince -Andrew. From the other side a battalion commander rode up. - -"Look out!" came a frightened cry from a soldier and, like a bird -whirring in rapid flight and alighting on the ground, a shell -dropped with little noise within two steps of Prince Andrew and -close to the battalion commander's horse. The horse first, -regardless of whether it was right or wrong to show fear, snorted, -reared almost throwing the major, and galloped aside. The horse's -terror infected the men. - -"Lie down!" cried the adjutant, throwing himself flat on the ground. - -Prince Andrew hesitated. The smoking shell spun like a top between -him and the prostrate adjutant, near a wormwood plant between the -field and the meadow. - -"Can this be death?" thought Prince Andrew, looking with a quite -new, envious glance at the grass, the wormwood, and the streamlet of -smoke that curled up from the rotating black ball. "I cannot, I do not -wish to die. I love life- I love this grass, this earth, this air...." -He thought this, and at the same time remembered that people were -looking at him. - -"It's shameful, sir!" he said to the adjutant. "What..." - -He did not finish speaking. At one and the same moment came the -sound of an explosion, a whistle of splinters as from a breaking -window frame, a suffocating smell of powder, and Prince Andrew started -to one side, raising his arm, and fell on his chest. Several -officers ran up to him. From the right side of his abdomen, blood -was welling out making a large stain on the grass. - -The militiamen with stretchers who were called up stood behind the -officers. Prince Andrew lay on his chest with his face in the grass, -breathing heavily and noisily. - -"What are you waiting for? Come along!" - -The peasants went up and took him by his shoulders and legs, but -he moaned piteously and, exchanging looks, they set him down again. - -"Pick him up, lift him, it's all the same!" cried someone. - -They again took him by the shoulders and laid him on the stretcher. - -"Ah, God! My God! What is it? The stomach? That means death! My -God!"- voices among the officers were heard saying. - -"It flew a hair's breadth past my ear," said the adjutant. - -The peasants, adjusting the stretcher to their shoulders, started -hurriedly along the path they had trodden down, to the dressing -station. - -"Keep in step! Ah... those peasants!" shouted an officer, seizing by -their shoulders and checking the peasants, who were walking unevenly -and jolting the stretcher. - -"Get into step, Fedor... I say, Fedor!" said the foremost peasant. - -"Now that's right!" said the one behind joyfully, when he had got -into step. - -"Your excellency! Eh, Prince!" said the trembling voice of Timokhin, -who had run up and was looking down on the stretcher. - -Prince Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker from -the stretcher into which his head had sunk deep and again his -eyelids drooped. - -The militiamen carried Prince Andrew to dressing station by the -wood, where wagons were stationed. The dressing station consisted of -three tents with flaps turned back, pitched at the edge of a birch -wood. In the wood, wagons and horses were standing. The horses were -eating oats from their movable troughs and sparrows flew down and -pecked the grains that fell. Some crows, scenting blood, flew among -the birch trees cawing impatiently. Around the tents, over more than -five acres, bloodstained men in various garbs stood, sat, or lay. -Around the wounded stood crowds of soldier stretcher-bearers with -dismal and attentive faces, whom the officers keeping order tried in -vain to drive from the spot. Disregarding the officers' orders, the -soldiers stood leaning against their stretchers and gazing intently, -as if trying to comprehend the difficult problem of what was taking -place before them. From the tents came now loud angry cries and now -plaintive groans. Occasionally dressers ran out to fetch water, or -to point out those who were to be brought in next. The wounded men -awaiting their turn outside the tents groaned, sighed, wept, screamed, -swore, or asked for vodka. Some were delirious. Prince Andrew's -bearers, stepping over the wounded who had not yet been bandaged, took -him, as a regimental commander, close up to one of the tents and there -stopped, awaiting instructions. Prince Andrew opened his eyes and -for a long time could not make out what was going on around him. He -remembered the meadow, the wormwood, the field, the whirling black -ball, and his sudden rush of passionate love of life. Two steps from -him, leaning against a branch and talking loudly and attracting -general attention, stood a tall, handsome, black-haired -noncommissioned officer with a bandaged head. He had been wounded in -the head and leg by bullets. Around him, eagerly listening to his -talk, a crowd of wounded and stretcher-bearers was gathered. - -"We kicked him out from there so that he chucked everything, we -grabbed the King himself!" cried he, looking around him with eyes that -glittered with fever. "If only reserves had come up just then, lads, -there wouldn't have been nothing left of him! I tell you surely..." - -Like all the others near the speaker, Prince Andrew looked at him -with shining eyes and experienced a sense of comfort. "But isn't it -all the same now?" thought he. "And what will be there, and what has -there been here? Why was I so reluctant to part with life? There was -something in this life I did not and do not understand." - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -One of the doctors came out of the tent in a bloodstained apron, -holding a cigar between the thumb and little finger of one of his -small bloodstained hands, so as not to smear it. He raised his head -and looked about him, but above the level of the wounded men. He -evidently wanted a little respite. After turning his head from right -to left for some time, he sighed and looked down. - -"All right, immediately," he replied to a dresser who pointed Prince -Andrew out to him, and he told them to carry him into the tent. - -Murmurs arose among the wounded who were waiting. - -"It seems that even in the next world only the gentry are to have -a chance!" remarked one. - -Prince Andrew was carried in and laid on a table that had only -just been cleared and which a dresser was washing down. Prince -Andrew could not make out distinctly what was in that tent. The -pitiful groans from all sides and the torturing pain in his thigh, -stomach, and back distracted him. All he saw about him merged into a -general impression of naked, bleeding human bodies that seemed to fill -the whole of the low tent, as a few weeks previously, on that hot -August day, such bodies had filled the dirty pond beside the -Smolensk road. Yes, it was the same flesh, the same chair a canon, the -sight of which had even then filled him with horror, as by a -presentiment. - -There were three operating tables in the tent. Two were occupied, -and on the third they placed Prince Andrew. For a little while he -was left alone and involuntarily witnessed what was taking place on -the other two tables. On the nearest one sat a Tartar, probably a -Cossack, judging by the uniform thrown down beside him. Four -soldiers were holding him, and a spectacled doctor was cutting into -his muscular brown back. - -"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" grunted the Tartar, and suddenly lifting up his -swarthy snub-nosed face with its high cheekbones, and baring his white -teeth, he began to wriggle and twitch his body and utter piercing, -ringing, and prolonged yells. On the other table, round which many -people were crowding, a tall well-fed man lay on his back with his -head thrown back. His curly hair, its color, and the shape of his head -seemed strangely familiar to Prince Andrew. Several dressers were -pressing on his chest to hold him down. One large, white, plump leg -twitched rapidly all the time with a feverish tremor. The man was -sobbing and choking convulsively. Two doctors- one of whom was pale -and trembling- were silently doing something to this man's other, gory -leg. When he had finished with the Tartar, whom they covered with an -overcoat, the spectacled doctor came up to Prince Andrew, wiping his -hands. - -He glanced at Prince Andrew's face and quickly turned away. - -"Undress him! What are you waiting for?" he cried angrily to the -dressers. - -His very first, remotest recollections of childhood came back to -Prince Andrew's mind when the dresser with sleeves rolled up began -hastily to undo the buttons of his clothes and undressed him. The -doctor bent down over the wound, felt it, and sighed deeply. Then he -made a sign to someone, and the torturing pain in his abdomen caused -Prince Andrew to lose consciousness. When he came to himself the -splintered portions of his thighbone had been extracted, the torn -flesh cut away, and the wound bandaged. Water was being sprinkled on -his face. As soon as Prince Andrew opened his eyes, the doctor bent -over, kissed him silently on the lips, and hurried away. - -After the sufferings he had been enduring, Prince Andrew enjoyed a -blissful feeling such as he had not experienced for a long time. All -the best and happiest moments of his life- especially his earliest -childhood, when he used to be undressed and put to bed, and when -leaning over him his nurse sang him to sleep and he, burying his -head in the pillow, felt happy in the mere consciousness of life- -returned to his memory, not merely as something past but as -something present. - -The doctors were busily engaged with the wounded man the shape of -whose head seemed familiar to Prince Andrew: they were lifting him -up and trying to quiet him. - -"Show it to me.... Oh, ooh... Oh! Oh, ooh!" his frightened moans -could be heard, subdued by suffering and broken by sobs. - -Hearing those moans Prince Andrew wanted Andrew wanted to weep. -Whether because he was dying without glory, or because he was sorry to -part with life, or because of those memories of a childhood that could -not return, or because he was suffering and others were suffering -and that man near him was groaning so piteously- he felt like -weeping childlike, kindly, and almost happy tears. - -The wounded man was shown his amputated leg stained with clotted -blood and with the boot still on. - -"Oh! Oh, ooh!" he sobbed, like a woman. - -The doctor who had been standing beside him, preventing Prince -Andrew from seeing his face, moved away. - -"My God! What is this? Why is he here?" said Prince Andrew to -himself. - -In the miserable, sobbing, enfeebled man whose leg had just been -amputated, he recognized Anatole Kuragin. Men were supporting him in -their arms and offering him a glass of water, but his trembling, -swollen lips could not grasp its rim. Anatole was sobbing painfully. -"Yes, it is he! Yes, that man is somehow closely and painfully -connected with me," thought Prince Andrew, not yet clearly grasping -what he saw before him. "What is the connection of that man with my -childhood and life?" he asked himself without finding an answer. And -suddenly a new unexpected memory from that realm of pure and loving -childhood presented itself to him. He remembered Natasha as he had -seen her for the first time at the ball in 1810, with her slender neck -and arms and with a frightened happy face ready for rapture, and -love and tenderness for her, stronger and more vivid than ever, -awoke in his soul. He now remembered the connection that existed -between himself and this man who was dimly gazing at him through tears -that filled his swollen eyes. He remembered everything, and ecstatic -pity and love for that man overflowed his happy heart. - -Prince Andrew could no longer restrain himself and wept tender -loving tears for his fellow men, for himself, and for his own and -their errors. - -"Compassion, love of our brothers, for those who love us and for -those who hate us, love of our enemies; yes, that love which God -preached on earth and which Princess Mary taught me and I did not -understand- that is what made me sorry to part with life, that is what -remained for me had I lived. But now it is too late. I know it!" - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -The terrible spectacle of the battlefield covered with dead and -wounded, together with the heaviness of his head and the news that -some twenty generals he knew personally had been killed or wounded, -and the consciousness of the impotence of his once mighty arm, -produced an unexpected impression on Napoleon who usually liked to -look at the killed and wounded, thereby, he considered, testing his -strength of mind. This day the horrible appearance of the -battlefield overcame that strength of mind which he thought -constituted his merit and his greatness. He rode hurriedly from the -battlefield and returned to the Shevardino knoll, where he sat on -his campstool, his sallow face swollen and heavy, his eyes dim, his -nose red, and his voice hoarse, involuntarily listening, with downcast -eyes, to the sounds of firing. With painful dejection he awaited the -end of this action, in which he regarded himself as a participant -and which he was unable to arrest. A personal, human feeling for a -brief moment got the better of the artificial phantasm of life he -had served so long. He felt in his own person the sufferings and death -he had witnessed on the battlefield. The heaviness of his head and -chest reminded him of the possibility of suffering and death for -himself. At that moment he did not desire Moscow, or victory, or glory -(what need had he for any more glory?). The one thing he wished for -was rest, tranquillity, and freedom. But when he had been on the -Semenovsk heights the artillery commander had proposed to him to bring -several batteries of artillery up to those heights to strengthen the -fire on the Russian troops crowded in front of Knyazkovo. Napoleon had -assented and had given orders that news should be brought to him of -the effect those batteries produced. - -An adjutant came now to inform him that the fire of two hundred guns -had been concentrated on the Russians, as he had ordered, but that -they still held their ground. - -"Our fire is mowing them down by rows, but still they hold on," said -the adjutant. - -"They want more!..." said Napoleon in a hoarse voice. - -"Sire?" asked the adjutant who had not heard the remark. - -"They want more!" croaked Napoleon frowning. "Let them have it!" - -Even before he gave that order the thing he did not desire, and -for which he gave the order only because he thought it was expected of -him, was being done. And he fell back into that artificial realm of -imaginary greatness, and again- as a horse walking a treadmill -thinks it is doing something for itself- he submissively fulfilled the -cruel, sad, gloomy, and inhuman role predestined for him. - -And not for that day and hour alone were the mind and conscience -darkened of this man on whom the responsibility for what was happening -lay more than on all the others who took part in it. Never to the -end of his life could he understand goodness, beauty, or truth, or the -significance of his actions which were too contrary to goodness and -truth, too remote from everything human, for him ever to be able to -grasp their meaning. He could not disavow his actions, belauded as -they were by half the world, and so he had to repudiate truth, -goodness, and all humanity. - -Not only on that day, as he rode over the battlefield strewn with -men killed and maimed (by his will as he believed), did he reckon as -he looked at them how many Russians there were for each Frenchman and, -deceiving himself, find reason for rejoicing in the calculation that -there were five Russians for every Frenchman. Not on that day alone -did he write in a letter to Paris that "the battle field was -superb," because fifty thousand corpses lay there, but even on the -island of St. Helena in the peaceful solitude where he said he -intended to devote his leisure to an account of the great deeds he had -done, he wrote: - -The Russian war should have been the most popular war of modern -times: it was a war of good sense, for real interests, for the -tranquillity and security of all; it was purely pacific and -conservative. - -It was a war for a great cause, the end of uncertainties and the -beginning of security. A new horizon and new labors were opening -out, full of well-being and prosperity for all. The European system -was already founded; all that remained was to organize it. - -Satisfied on these great points and with tranquility everywhere, I -too should have had my Congress and my Holy Alliance. Those ideas were -stolen from me. In that reunion of great sovereigns we should have -discussed our interests like one family, and have rendered account -to the peoples as clerk to master. - -Europe would in this way soon have been, in fact, but one people, -and anyone who traveled anywhere would have found himself always in -the common fatherland. I should have demanded the freedom of all -navigable rivers for everybody, that the seas should be common to all, -and that the great standing armies should be reduced henceforth to -mere guards for the sovereigns. - -On returning to France, to the bosom of the great, strong, -magnificent, peaceful, and glorious fatherland, I should have -proclaimed her frontiers immutable; all future wars purely -defensive, all aggrandizement antinational. I should have associated -my son in the Empire; my dictatorship would have been finished, and -his constitutional reign would have begun. - -Paris would have been the capital of the world, and the French the -envy of the nations! - -My leisure then, and my old age, would have been devoted, in company -with the Empress and during the royal apprenticeship of my son, to -leisurely visiting, with our own horses and like a true country -couple, every corner of the Empire, receiving complaints, redressing -wrongs, and scattering public buildings and benefactions on all -sides and everywhere. - -Napoleon, predestined by Providence for the gloomy role of -executioner of the peoples, assured himself that the aim of his -actions had been the peoples' welfare and that he could control the -fate of millions and by the employment of power confer benefactions. - -"Of four hundred thousand who crossed the Vistula," he wrote further -of the Russian war, "half were Austrians, Prussians, Saxons, Poles, -Bavarians, Wurttembergers, Mecklenburgers, Spaniards, Italians, and -Neapolitans. The Imperial army, strictly speaking, was one third -composed of Dutch, Belgians, men from the borders of the Rhine, -Piedmontese, Swiss, Genevese, Tuscans, Romans, inhabitants of the -Thirty-second Military Division, of Bremen, of Hamburg, and so on: -it included scarcely a hundred and forty thousand who spoke French. -The Russian expedition actually cost France less than fifty thousand -men; the Russian army in its retreat from Vilna to Moscow lost in -the various battles four times more men than the French army; the -burning of Moscow cost the lives of a hundred thousand Russians who -died of cold and want in the woods; finally, in its march from -Moscow to the Oder the Russian army also suffered from the severity of -the season; so that by the the time it reached Vilna it numbered -only fifty thousand, and at Kalisch less than eighteen thousand." - -He imagined that the war with Russia came about by his will, and the -horrors that occurred did not stagger his soul. He boldly took the -whole responsibility for what happened, and his darkened mind found -justification in the belief that among the hundreds of thousands who -perished there were fewer Frenchmen than Hessians and Bavarians. - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -Several tens of thousands of the slain lay in diverse postures and -various uniforms on the fields and meadows belonging to the Davydov -family and to the crown serfs- those fields and meadows where for -hundreds of years the peasants of Borodino, Gorki, Shevardino, and -Semenovsk had reaped their harvests and pastured their cattle. At -the dressing stations the grass and earth were soaked with blood for a -space of some three acres around. Crowds of men of various arms, -wounded and unwounded, with frightened faces, dragged themselves -back to Mozhaysk from the one army and back to Valuevo from the other. -Other crowds, exhausted and hungry, went forward led by their -officers. Others held their ground and continued to fire. - -Over the whole field, previously so gaily beautiful with the glitter -of bayonets and cloudlets of smoke in the morning sun, there now -spread a mist of damp and smoke and a strange acid smell of -saltpeter and blood. Clouds gathered and drops of rain began to fall -on the dead and wounded, on the frightened, exhausted, and -hesitating men, as if to say: "Enough, men! Enough! Cease... bethink -yourselves! What are you doing?" - -To the men of both sides alike, worn out by want of food and rest, -it began equally to appear doubtful whether they should continue to -slaughter one another; all the faces expressed hesitation, and the -question arose in every soul: "For what, for whom, must I kill and -be killed?... You may go and kill whom you please, but I don't want to -do so anymore!" By evening this thought had ripened in every soul. -At any moment these men might have been seized with horror at what -they were doing and might have thrown up everything and run away -anywhere. - -But though toward the end of the battle the men felt all the -horror of what they were doing, though they would have been glad to -leave off, some incomprehensible, mysterious power continued to -control them, and they still brought up the charges, loaded, aimed, -and applied the match, though only one artilleryman survived out of -every three, and though they stumbled and panted with fatigue, -perspiring and stained with blood and powder. The cannon balls flew -just as swiftly and cruelly from both sides, crushing human bodies, -and that terrible work which was not done by the will of a man but -at the will of Him who governs men and worlds continued. - -Anyone looking at the disorganized rear of the Russian army would -have said that, if only the French made one more slight effort, it -would disappear; and anyone looking at the rear of the French army -would have said that the Russians need only make one more slight -effort and the French would be destroyed. But neither the French nor -the Russians made that effort, and the flame of battle burned slowly -out. - -The Russians did not make that effort because they were not -attacking the French. At the beginning of the battle they stood -blocking the way to Moscow and they still did so at the end of the -battle as at the beginning. But even had the aim of the Russians -been to drive the French from their positions, they could not have -made this last effort, for all the Russian troops had been broken -up, there was no part of the Russian army that had not suffered in the -battle, and though still holding their positions they had lost ONE -HALF of their army. - -The French, with the memory of all their former victories during -fifteen years, with the assurance of Napoleon's invincibility, with -the consciousness that they had captured part of the battlefield and -had lost only a quarter of their men and still had their Guards -intact, twenty thousand strong, might easily have made that effort. -The French had attacked the Russian army in order to drive it from its -position ought to have made that effort, for as long as the Russians -continued to block the road to Moscow as before, the aim of the French -had not been attained and all their efforts and losses were in vain. -But the French did not make that effort. Some historians say that -Napoleon need only have used his Old Guards, who were intact, and -the battle would have been won. To speak of what would have happened -had Napoleon sent his Guards is like talking of what would happen if -autumn became spring. It could not be. Napoleon did not give his -Guards, not because he did not want to, but because it could not be -done. All the generals, officers. and soldiers of the French army knew -it could not be done, because the flagging spirit of the troops -would not permitit. - -It was not Napoleon alone who had experienced that nightmare feeling -of the mighty arm being stricken powerless, but all the generals and -soldiers of his army whether they had taken part in the battle or not, -after all their experience of previous battles- when after one tenth -of such efforts the enemy had fled- experienced a similar feeling of -terror before an enemy who, after losing HALF his men, stood as -threateningly at the end as at the beginning of the battle. The -moral force of the attacking French army was exhausted. Not that -sort of victory which is defined by the capture of pieces of -material fastened to sticks, called standards, and of the ground on -which the troops had stood and were standing, but a moral victory that -convinces the enemy of the moral superiority of his opponent and of -his own impotence was gained by the Russians at Borodino. The French -invaders, like an infuriated animal that has in its onslaught received -a mortal wound, felt that they were perishing, but could not stop, any -more than the Russian army, weaker by one half, could help swerving. -By impetus gained, the French army was still able to roll forward to -Moscow, but there, without further effort on the part of the Russians, -it had to perish, bleeding from the mortal wound it had received at -Borodino. The direct consequence of the battle of Borodino was -Napoleon's senseless flight from Moscow, his retreat along the old -Smolensk road, the destruction of the invading army of five hundred -thousand men, and the downfall of Napoleonic France, on which at -Borodino for the first time the hand of an opponent of stronger spirit -had been laid. - -BOOK ELEVEN: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -Absolute continuity of motion is not comprehensible to the human -mind. Laws of motion of any kind become comprehensible to man only -when he examines arbitrarily selected elements of that motion; but -at the same time, a large proportion of human error comes from the -arbitrary division of continuous motion into discontinuous elements. -There is a well known, so-called sophism of the ancients consisting in -this, that Achilles could never catch up with a tortoise he was -following, in spite of the fact that he traveled ten times as fast -as the tortoise. By the time Achilles has covered the distance that -separated him from the tortoise, the tortoise has covered one tenth of -that distance ahead of him: when Achilles has covered that tenth, -the tortoise has covered another one hundredth, and so on forever. -This problem seemed to the ancients insoluble. The absurd answer (that -Achilles could never overtake the tortoise) resulted from this: that -motion was arbitrarily divided into discontinuous elements, whereas -the motion both of Achilles and of the tortoise was continuous. - -By adopting smaller and smaller elements of motion we only -approach a solution of the problem, but never reach it. Only when we -have admitted the conception of the infinitely small, and the -resulting geometrical progression with a common ratio of one tenth, -and have found the sum of this progression to infinity, do we reach -a solution of the problem. - -A modern branch of mathematics having achieved the art of dealing -with the infinitely small can now yield solutions in other more -complex problems of motion which used to appear insoluble. - -This modern branch of mathematics, unknown to the ancients, when -dealing with problems of motion admits the conception of the -infinitely small, and so conforms to the chief condition of motion -(absolute continuity) and thereby corrects the inevitable error -which the human mind cannot avoid when it deals with separate elements -of motion instead of examining continuous motion. - -In seeking the laws of historical movement just the same thing -happens. The movement of humanity, arising as it does from innumerable -arbitrary human wills, is continuous. - -To understand the laws of this continuous movement is the aim of -history. But to arrive at these laws, resulting from the sum of all -those human wills, man's mind postulates arbitrary and disconnected -units. The first method of history is to take an arbitrarily -selected series of continuous events and examine it apart from others, -though there is and can be no beginning to any event, for one event -always flows uninterruptedly from another. - -The second method is to consider the actions of some one man- a king -or a commander- as equivalent to the sum of many individual wills; -whereas the sum of individual wills is never expressed by the activity -of a single historic personage. - -Historical science in its endeavor to draw nearer to truth -continually takes smaller and smaller units for examination. But -however small the units it takes, we feel that to take any unit -disconnected from others, or to assume a beginning of any -phenomenon, or to say that the will of many men is expressed by the -actions of any one historic personage, is in itself false. - -It needs no critical exertion to reduce utterly to dust any -deductions drawn from history. It is merely necessary to select some -larger or smaller unit as the subject of observation- as criticism has -every right to do, seeing that whatever unit history observes must -always be arbitrarily selected. - -Only by taking infinitesimally small units for observation (the -differential of history, that is, the individual tendencies of men) -and attaining to the art of integrating them (that is, finding the sum -of these infinitesimals) can we hope to arrive at the laws of history. - -The first fifteen years of the nineteenth century in Europe -present an extraordinary movement of millions of people. Men leave -their customary pursuits, hasten from one side of Europe to the other, -plunder and slaughter one another, triumph and are plunged in despair, -and for some years the whole course of life is altered and presents an -intensive movement which first increases and then slackens. What was -the cause of this movement, by what laws was it governed? asks the -mind of man. - -The historians, replying to this question, lay before us the sayings -and doings of a few dozen men in a building in the city of Paris, -calling these sayings and doings "the Revolution"; then they give a -detailed biography of Napoleon and of certain people favorable or -hostile to him; tell of the influence some of these people had on -others, and say: that is why this movement took place and those are -its laws. - -But the mind of man not only refuses to believe this explanation, -but plainly says that this method of explanation is fallacious, -because in it a weaker phenomenon is taken as the cause of a stronger. -The sum of human wills produced the Revolution and Napoleon, and -only the sum of those wills first tolerated and then destroyed them. - -"But every time there have been conquests there have been -conquerors; every time there has been a revolution in any state -there have been great men," says history. And, indeed, human reason -replies: every time conquerors appear there have been wars, but this -does not prove that the conquerors caused the wars and that it is -possible to find the laws of a war in the personal activity of a -single man. Whenever I look at my watch and its hands point to ten, -I hear the bells of the neighboring church; but because the bells -begin to ring when the hands of the clock reach ten, I have no right -to assume that the movement of the bells is caused by the position -of the hands of the watch. - -Whenever I see the movement of a locomotive I hear the whistle and -see the valves opening and wheels turning; but I have no right to -conclude that the whistling and the turning of wheels are the cause of -the movement of the engine. - -The peasants say that a cold wind blows in late spring because the -oaks are budding, and really every spring cold winds do blow when -the oak is budding. But though I do not know what causes the cold -winds to blow when the oak buds unfold, I cannot agree with the -peasants that the unfolding of the oak buds is the cause of the cold -wind, for the force of the wind is beyond the influence of the buds. I -see only a coincidence of occurrences such as happens with all the -phenomena of life, and I see that however much and however carefully I -observe the hands of the watch, and the valves and wheels of the -engine, and the oak, I shall not discover the cause of the bells -ringing, the engine moving, or of the winds of spring. To that I -must entirely change my point of view and study the laws of the -movement of steam, of the bells, and of the wind. History must do -the same. And attempts in this direction have already been made. - -To study the laws of history we must completely change the subject -of our observation, must leave aside kings, ministers, and generals, -and the common, infinitesimally small elements by which the masses are -moved. No one can say in how far it is possible for man to advance -in this way toward an understanding of the laws of history; but it -is evident that only along that path does the possibility of -discovering the laws of history lie, and that as yet not a millionth -part as much mental effort has been applied in this direction by -historians as has been devoted to describing the actions of various -kings, commanders, and ministers and propounding the historians' own -reflections concerning these actions. - -CHAPTER II - -The forces of a dozen European nations burst into Russia. The -Russian army and people avoided a collision till Smolensk was reached, -and again from Smolensk to Borodino. The French army pushed on to -Moscow, its goal, its impetus ever increasing as it neared its aim, -just as the velocity of a falling body increases as it approaches -the earth. Behind it were seven hundred miles of hunger-stricken, -hostile country; ahead were a few dozen miles separating it from its -goal. Every soldier in Napoleon's army felt this and the invasion -moved on by its own momentum. - -The more the Russian army retreated the more fiercely a spirit of -hatred of the enemy flared up, and while it retreated the army -increased and consolidated. At Borodino a collision took place. -Neither army was broken up, but the Russian army retreated immediately -after the collision as inevitably as a ball recoils after colliding -with another having a greater momentum, and with equal inevitability -the ball of invasion that had advanced with such momentum rolled on -for some distance, though the collision had deprived it of all its -force. - -The Russians retreated eighty miles- to beyond Moscow- and the -French reached Moscow and there came to a standstill. For five weeks -after that there was not a single battle. The French did not move. -As a bleeding, mortally wounded animal licks its wounds, they remained -inert in Moscow for five weeks, and then suddenly, with no fresh -reason, fled back: they made a dash for the Kaluga road, and (after -a victory- for at Malo-Yaroslavets the field of conflict again -remained theirs) without undertaking a single serious battle, they -fled still more rapidly back to Smolensk, beyond Smolensk, beyond -the Berezina, beyond Vilna, and farther still. - -On the evening of the twenty-sixth of August, Kutuzov and the -whole Russian army were convinced that the battle of Borodino was a -victory. Kutuzov reported so to the Emperor. He gave orders to prepare -for a fresh conflict to finish the enemy and did this not to deceive -anyone, but because he knew that the enemy was beaten, as everyone who -had taken part in the battle knew it. - -But all that evening and next day reports came in one after -another of unheard-of losses, of the loss of half the army, and a -fresh battle proved physically impossible. - -It was impossible to give battle before information had been -collected, the wounded gathered in, the supplies of ammunition -replenished, the slain reckoned up, new officers appointed to -replace those who had been killed, and before the men had had food and -sleep. And meanwhile, the very next morning after the battle, the -French army advanced of itself upon the Russians, carried forward by -the force of its own momentum now seemingly increased in inverse -proportion to the square of the distance from its aim. Kutuzov's -wish was to attack next day, and the whole army desired to do so. -But to make an attack the wish to do so is not sufficient, there -must also be a possibility of doing it, and that possibility did not -exist. It was impossible not to retreat a day's march, and then in the -same way it was impossible not to retreat another and a third day's -march, and at last, on the first of September when the army drew -near Moscow- despite the strength of the feeling that had arisen in -all ranks- the force of circumstances compelled it to retire beyond -Moscow. And the troops retired one more, last, day's march, and -abandoned Moscow to the enemy. - -For people accustomed to think that plans of campaign and battles -are made by generals- as any one of us sitting over a map in his study -may imagine how he would have arranged things in this or that -battle- the questions present themselves: Why did Kutuzov during the -retreat not do this or that? Why did he not take up a position -before reaching Fili? Why did he not retire at once by the Kaluga -road, abandoning Moscow? and so on. People accustomed to think in that -way forget, or do not know, the inevitable conditions which always -limit the activities of any commander in chief. The activity of a -commander in chief does not all resemble the activity we imagine to -ourselves when we sit at case in our studies examining some campaign -on the map, with a certain number of troops on this and that side in a -certain known locality, and begin our plans from some given moment. -A commander in chief is never dealing with the beginning of any event- -the position from which we always contemplate it. The commander in -chief is always in the midst of a series of shifting events and so -he never can at any moment consider the whole import of an event -that is occurring. Moment by moment the event is imperceptibly shaping -itself, and at every moment of this continuous, uninterrupted -shaping of events the commander in chief is in the midst of a most -complex play of intrigues, worries, contingencies, authorities, -projects, counsels, threats, and deceptions and is continually obliged -to reply to innumerable questions addressed to him, which constantly -conflict with one another. - -Learned military authorities quite seriously tell us that Kutuzov -should have moved his army to the Kaluga road long before reaching -Fili, and that somebody actually submitted such a proposal to him. But -a commander in chief, especially at a difficult moment, has always -before him not one proposal but dozens simultaneously. And all these -proposals, based on strategics and tactics, contradict each other. - -A commander in chief's business, it would seem, is simply to -choose one of these projects. But even that he cannot do. Events and -time do not wait. For instance, on the twenty-eighth it is suggested -to him to cross to the Kaluga road, but just then an adjutant -gallops up from Miloradovich asking whether he is to engage the French -or retire. An order must be given him at once, that instant. And the -order to retreat carries us past the turn to the Kaluga road. And -after the adjutant comes the commissary general asking where the -stores are to be taken, and the chief of the hospitals asks where -the wounded are to go, and a courier from Petersburg brings a letter -from the sovereign which does not admit of the possibility of -abandoning Moscow, and the commander in chief's rival, the man who -is undermining him (and there are always not merely one but several -such), presents a new project diametrically opposed to that of turning -to the Kaluga road, and the commander in chief himself needs sleep and -refreshment to maintain his energy and a respectable general who has -been overlooked in the distribution of rewards comes to complain, -and the inhabitants of the district pray to be defended, and an -officer sent to inspect the locality comes in and gives a report quite -contrary to what was said by the officer previously sent; and a spy, a -prisoner, and a general who has been on reconnaissance, all describe -the position of the enemy's army differently. People accustomed to -misunderstand or to forget these inevitable conditions of a -commander in chief's actions describe to us, for instance, the -position of the army at Fili and assume that the commander in chief -could, on the first of September, quite freely decide whether to -abandon Moscow or defend it; whereas, with the Russian army less -than four miles from Moscow, no such question existed. When had that -question been settled? At Drissa and at Smolensk and most palpably -of all on the twenty-fourth of August at Shevardino and on the -twenty-sixth at Borodino, and each day and hour and minute of the -retreat from Borodino to Fili. - -CHAPTER III - -When Ermolov, having been sent by Kutuzov to inspect the position, -told the field marshal that it was impossible to fight there before -Moscow and that they must retreat, Kutuzov looked at him in silence. - -"Give me your hand," said he and, turning it over so as to feel -the pulse, added: "You are not well, my dear fellow. Think what you -are saying!" - -Kutuzov could not yet admit the possibility of retreating beyond -Moscow without a battle. - -On the Poklonny Hill, four miles from the Dorogomilov gate of -Moscow, Kutuzov got out of his carriage and sat down on a bench by the -roadside. A great crowd of generals gathered round him, and Count -Rostopchin, who had come out from Moscow, joined them. This -brilliant company separated into several groups who all discussed -the advantages and disadvantages of the position, the state of the -army, the plans suggested, the situation of Moscow, and military -questions generally. Though they had not been summoned for the -purpose, and though it was not so called, they all felt that this -was really a council of war. The conversations all dealt with public -questions. If anyone gave or asked for personal news, it was done in a -whisper and they immediately reverted to general matters. No jokes, or -laughter, or smiles even, were seen among all these men. They -evidently all made an effort to hold themselves at the height the -situation demanded. And all these groups, while talking among -themselves, tried to keep near the commander in chief (whose bench -formed the center of the gathering) and to speak so that he might -overhear them. The commander in chief listened to what was being -said and sometimes asked them to repeat their remarks, but did not -himself take part in the conversations or express any opinion. After -hearing what was being said by one or other of these groups he -generally turned away with an air of disappointment, as though they -were not speaking of anything he wished to hear. Some discussed the -position that had been chosen, criticizing not the position itself -so much as the mental capacity of those who had chosen it. Others -argued that a mistake had been made earlier and that a battle should -have been fought two days before. Others again spoke of the battle -of Salamanca, which was described by Crosart, a newly arrived -Frenchman in a Spanish uniform. (This Frenchman and one of the -German princes serving with the Russian army were discussing the siege -of Saragossa and considering the possibility of defending Moscow in -a similar manner.) Count Rostopchin was telling a fourth group that he -was prepared to die with the city train bands under the walls of the -capital, but that he still could not help regretting having been -left in ignorance of what was happening, and that had he known it -sooner things would have been different.... A fifth group, -displaying the profundity of their strategic perceptions, discussed -the direction the troops would now have to take. A sixth group was -talking absolute nonsense. Kutuzov's expression grew more and more -preoccupied and gloomy. From all this talk he saw only one thing: that -to defend Moscow was a physical impossibility in the full meaning of -those words, that is to say, so utterly impossible that if any -senseless commander were to give orders to fight, confusion would -result but the battle would still not take place. It would not take -place because the commanders not merely all recognized the position to -be impossible, but in their conversations were only discussing what -would happen after its inevitable abandonment. How could the -commanders lead their troops to a field of battle they considered it -impossible to hold? The lower-grade officers and even the soldiers -(who too reason) also considered the position impossible and therefore -could not go to fight, fully convinced as they were of defeat. If -Bennigsen insisted on the position being defended and others still -discussed it, the question was no longer important in itself but -only as a pretext for disputes and intrigue. This Kutuzov knew well. - -Bennigsen, who had chosen the position, warmly displayed his Russian -patriotism (Kutuzov could not listen to this without wincing) by -insisting that Moscow must be defended. His aim was as clear as -daylight to Kutuzov: if the defense failed, to throw the blame on -Kutuzov who had brought the army as far as the Sparrow Hills without -giving battle; if it succeeded, to claim the success as his own; or if -battle were not given, to clear himself of the crime of abandoning -Moscow. But this intrigue did not now occupy the old man's mind. One -terrible question absorbed him and to that question he heard no -reply from anyone. The question for him now was: "Have I really -allowed Napoleon to reach Moscow, and when did I do so? When was it -decided? Can it have been yesterday when I ordered Platov to -retreat, or was it the evening before, when I had a nap and told -Bennigsen to issue orders? Or was it earlier still?... When, when -was this terrible affair decided? Moscow must be abandoned. The army -must retreat and the order to do so must be given." To give that -terrible order seemed to him equivalent to resigning the command of -the army. And not only did he love power to which he was accustomed -(the honours awarded to Prince Prozorovski, under whom he had served -in Turkey, galled him), but he was convinced that he was destined to -save Russia and that that was why, against the Emperor's wish and by -the will of the people, he had been chosen commander in chief. He -was convinced that he alone could maintain command of the army in -these difficult circumstances, and that in all the world he alone -could encounter the invincible Napoleon without fear, and he was -horrified at the thought of the order he had to issue. But something -had to be decided, and these conversations around him which were -assuming too free a character must be stopped. - -He called the most important generals to him. - -"My head, be it good or bad, must depend on itself," said he, rising -from the bench, and he rode to Fili where his carriages were waiting. - -CHAPTER IV - -The Council of War began to assemble at two in the afternoon in -the better and roomier part of Andrew Savostyanov's hut. The men, -women, and children of the large peasant family crowded into the -back room across the passage. Only Malasha, Andrew's six-year-old -granddaughter whom his Serene Highness had petted and to whom he had -given a lump of sugar while drinking his tea, remained on the top of -the brick oven in the larger room. Malasha looked down from the oven -with shy delight at the faces, uniforms, and decorations of the -generals, who one after another came into the room and sat down on the -broad benches in the corner under the icons. "Granddad" himself, as -Malasha in her own mind called Kutuzov, sat apart in a dark corner -behind the oven. He sat, sunk deep in a folding armchair, and -continually cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his coat -which, though it was unbuttoned, still seemed to pinch his neck. Those -who entered went up one by one to the field marshal; he pressed the -hands of some and nodded to others. His adjutant Kaysarov was about to -draw back the curtain of the window facing Kutuzov, but the latter -moved his hand angrily and Kaysarov understood that his Serene -Highness did not wish his face to be seen. - -Round the peasant's deal table, on which lay maps, plans, pencils, -and papers, so many people gathered that the orderlies brought in -another bench and put it beside the table. Ermolov, Kaysarov, and -Toll, who had just arrived, sat down on this bench. In the foremost -place, immediately under the icons, sat Barclay de Tolly, his high -forehead merging into his bald crown. He had a St. George's Cross -round his neck and looked pale and ill. He had been feverish for two -days and was now shivering and in pain. Beside him sat Uvarov, who -with rapid gesticulations was giving him some information, speaking in -low tones as they all did. Chubby little Dokhturov was listening -attentively with eyebrows raised and arms folded on his stomach. On -the other side sat Count Ostermann-Tolstoy, seemingly absorbed in -his own thoughts. His broad head with its bold features and glittering -eyes was resting on his hand. Raevski, twitching forward the black -hair on his temples as was his habit, glanced now at Kutuzov and now -at the door with a look of impatience. Konovnitsyn's firm, handsome, -and kindly face was lit up by a tender, sly smile. His glance met -Malasha's, and the expression of his eyes caused the little girl to -smile. - -They were all waiting for Bennigsen, who on the pretext of -inspecting the position was finishing his savory dinner. They waited -for him from four till six o'clock and did not begin their -deliberations all that time talked in low tones of other matters. - -Only when Bennigsen had entered the hut did Kutuzov leave his corner -and draw toward the table, but not near enough for the candles that -had been placed there to light up his face. - -Bennigsen opened the council with the question: "Are we to abandon -Russia's ancient and sacred capital without a struggle, or are we to -defend it?" A prolonged and general silence followed. There was a -frown on every face and only Kutuzov's angry grunts and occasional -cough broke the silence. All eyes were gazing at him. Malasha too -looked at "Granddad." She was nearest to him and saw how his face -puckered; he seemed about to cry, but this did not last long. - -"Russia's ancient and sacred capital!" he suddenly said, repeating -Bennigsen's words in an angry voice and thereby drawing attention to -the false note in them. "Allow me to tell you, your excellency, that -that question has no meaning for a Russian." (He lurched his heavy -body forward.) "Such a question cannot be put; it is senseless! The -question I have asked these gentlemen to meet to discuss is a military -one. The question is that of saving Russia. Is it better to give up -Moscow without a battle, or by accepting battle to risk losing the -army as well as Moscow? That is the question on which I want your -opinion," and he sank back in his chair. - -The discussion began. Bennigsen did not yet consider his game -lost. Admitting the view of Barclay and others that a defensive battle -at Fili was impossible, but imbued with Russian patriotism and the -love of Moscow, he proposed to move troops from the right to the -left flank during the night and attack the French right flank the -following day. Opinions were divided, and arguments were advanced -for and against that project. Ermolov, Dokhturov, and Raevski agreed -with Bennigsen. Whether feeling it necessary to make a sacrifice -before abandoning the capital or guided by other, personal -considerations, these generals seemed not to understand that this -council could not alter the inevitable course of events and that -Moscow was in effect already abandoned. The other generals, however, -understood it and, leaving aside the question of Moscow, of the -direction the army should take in its retreat. Malasha, who kept her -eyes fixed on what was going on before her, understood the meaning -of the council differently. It seemed to her that it was only a -personal struggle between "Granddad" and "Long-coat" as she termed -Bennigsen. She saw that they grew spiteful when they spoke to one -another, and in her heart she sided with "Granddad." In the midst of -the conversation she noticed "Granddad" give Bennigsen a quick, subtle -glance, and then to her joys he saw that "Granddad" said something -to "Long-coat" which settled him. Bennigsen suddenly reddened and -paced angrily up and down the room. What so affected him was Kutuzov's -calm and quiet comment on the advantage or disadvantage of Bennigsen's -proposal to move troops by night from the right to the left flank to -attack the French right wing. - -"Gentlemen," said Kutuzov, "I cannot approve of the count's plan. -Moving troops in close proximity to an enemy is always dangerous, -and military history supports that view. For instance..." Kutuzov -seemed to reflect, searching for an example, then with a clear, -naive look at Bennigsen he added: "Oh yes; take the battle of -Friedland, which I think the count well remembers, and which was... -not fully successful, only because our troops were rearranged too near -the enemy..." - -There followed a momentary pause, which seemed very long to them -all. - -The discussion recommenced, but pauses frequently occurred and -they all felt that there was no more to be said. - -During one of these pauses Kutuzov heaved a deep sigh as if -preparing to speak. They all looked at him. - -"Well, gentlemen, I see that it is I who will have to pay for the -broken crockery," said he, and rising slowly he moved to the table. -"Gentlemen, I have heard your views. Some of you will not agree with -me. But I," he paused, "by the authority entrusted to me by my -Sovereign and country, order a retreat." - -After that the generals began to disperse with the solemnity and -circumspect silence of people who are leaving, after a funeral. - -Some of the generals, in low tones and in a strain very different -from the way they had spoken during the council, communicated -something to their commander in chief. - -Malasha, who had long been expected for supper, climbed carefully -backwards down from the oven, her bare little feet catching at its -projections, and slipping between the legs of the generals she -darted out of the room. - -When he had dismissed the generals Kutuzov sat a long time with -his elbows on the table, thinking always of the same terrible -question: "When, when did the abandonment of Moscow become inevitable? -When was that done which settled the matter? And who was to blame -for it?" - -"I did not expect this," said he to his adjutant Schneider when -the latter came in late that night. "I did not expect this! I did -not think this would happen." - -"You should take some rest, your Serene Highness," replied -Schneider. - -"But no! They shall eat horseflesh yet, like the Turks!" exclaimed -Kutuzov without replying, striking the table with his podgy fist. -"They shall too, if only..." - -CHAPTER V - -At that very time, in circumstances even more important than -retreating without a battle, namely the evacuation and burning of -Moscow, Rostopchin, who is usually represented as being the instigator -of that event, acted in an altogether different manner from Kutuzov. - -After the battle of Borodino the abandonment and burning of Moscow -was as inevitable as the retreat of the army beyond Moscow without -fighting. - -Every Russian might have predicted it, not by reasoning but by the -feeling implanted in each of us and in our fathers. - -The same thing that took place in Moscow had happened in all the -towns and villages on Russian soil beginning with Smolensk, without -the participation of Count Rostopchin and his broadsheets. The -people awaited the enemy unconcernedly, did not riot or become excited -or tear anyone to pieces, but faced its fate, feeling within it the -strength to find what it should do at that most difficult moment. -And as soon as the enemy drew near the wealthy classes went away -abandoning their property, while the poorer remained and burned and -destroyed what was left. - -The consciousness that this would be so and would always be so was -and is present in the heart of every Russian. And a consciousness of -this, and a foreboding that Moscow would be taken, was present in -Russian Moscow society in 1812. Those who had quitted Moscow already -in July and at the beginning of August showed that they expected this. -Those who went away, taking what they could and abandoning their -houses and half their belongings, did so from the latent patriotism -which expresses itself not by phrases or by giving one's children to -save the fatherland and similar unnatural exploits, but unobtrusively, -simply, organically, and therefore in the way that always produces the -most powerful results. - -"It is disgraceful to run away from danger; only cowards are running -away from Moscow," they were told. In his broadsheets Rostopchin -impressed on them that to leave Moscow was shameful. They were ashamed -to be called cowards, ashamed to leave, but still they left, knowing -it had to be done. Why did they go? It is impossible to suppose that -Rostopchin had scared them by his accounts of horrors Napoleon had -committed in conquered countries. The first people to go away were the -rich educated people who knew quite well that Vienna and Berlin had -remained intact and that during Napoleon's occupation the -inhabitants had spent their time pleasantly in the company of the -charming Frenchmen whom the Russians, and especially the Russian -ladies, then liked so much. - -They went away because for Russians there could be no question as to -whether things would go well or ill under French rule in Moscow. It -was out of the question to be under French rule, it would be the worst -thing that could happen. They went away even before the battle of -Borodino and still more rapidly after it, despite Rostopchin's calls -to defend Moscow or the announcement of his intention to take the -wonder-working icon of the Iberian Mother of God and go to fight, or -of the balloons that were to destroy the French, and despite all the -nonsense Rostopchin wrote in his broadsheets. They knew that it was -for the army to fight, and that if it could not succeed it would not -do to take young ladies and house serfs to the Three Hills quarter -of Moscow to fight Napoleon, and that they must go away, sorry as they -were to abandon their property to destruction. They went away -without thinking of the tremendous significance of that immense and -wealthy city being given over to destruction, for a great city with -wooden buildings was certain when abandoned by its inhabitants to be -burned. They went away each on his own account, and yet it was only in -consequence of their going away that the momentous event was -accomplished that will always remain the greatest glory of the Russian -people. The lady who, afraid of being stopped by Count Rostopchin's -orders, had already in June moved with her Negroes and her women -jesters from Moscow to her Saratov estate, with a vague -consciousness that she was not Bonaparte's servant, was really, -simply, and truly carrying out the great work which saved Russia. -But Count Rostopchin, who now taunted those who left Moscow and now -had the government offices removed; now distributed quite useless -weapons to the drunken rabble; now had processions displaying the -icons, and now forbade Father Augustin to remove icons or the relics -of saints; now seized all the private carts in Moscow and on one -hundred and thirty-six of them removed the balloon that was being -constructed by Leppich; now hinted that he would burn Moscow and -related how he had set fire to his own house; now wrote a proclamation -to the French solemnly upbraiding them for having destroyed his -Orphanage; now claimed the glory of having hinted that he would burn -Moscow and now repudiated the deed; now ordered the people to catch -all spies and bring them to him, and now reproached them for doing so; -now expelled all the French residents from Moscow, and now allowed -Madame Aubert-Chalme (the center of the whole French colony in Moscow) -to remain, but ordered the venerable old postmaster Klyucharev to be -arrested and exiled for no particular offense; now assembled the -people at the Three Hills to fight the French and now, to get rid of -them, handed over to them a man to be killed and himself drove away by -a back gate; now declared that he would not survive the fall of -Moscow, and now wrote French verses in albums concerning his share -in the affair- this man did not understand the meaning of what was -happening but merely wanted to do something himself that would -astonish people, to perform some patriotically heroic feat; and like a -child he made sport of the momentous, and unavoidable event- the -abandonment and burning of Moscow- and tried with his puny hand now to -speed and now to stay the enormous, popular tide that bore him along -with it. - -CHAPTER VI - -Helene, having returned with the court from Vilna to Petersburg, -found herself in a difficult position. - -In Petersburg she had enjoyed the special protection of a grandee -who occupied one of the highest posts in the Empire. In Vilna she -had formed an intimacy with a young foreign prince. When she -returned to Petersburg both the magnate and the prince were there, and -both claimed their rights. Helene was faced by a new problem- how to -preserve her intimacy with both without offending either. - -What would have seemed difficult or even impossible to another woman -did not cause the least embarrassment to Countess Bezukhova, who -evidently deserved her reputation of being a very clever woman. Had -she attempted concealment, or tried to extricate herself from her -awkward position by cunning, she would have spoiled her case by -acknowledging herself guilty. But Helene, like a really great man -who can do whatever he pleases, at once assumed her own position to be -correct, as she sincerely believed it to be, and that everyone else -was to blame. - -The first time the young foreigner allowed himself to reproach -her, she lifted her beautiful head and, half turning to him, said -firmly: "That's just like a man- selfish and cruel! I expected nothing -else. A woman sacrifices herself for you, she suffers, and this is her -reward! What right have you, monseigneur, to demand an account of my -attachments and friendships? He is a man who has been more than a -father to me!" The prince was about to say something, but Helene -interrupted him. - -"Well, yes," said she, "it may be that he has other sentiments for -me than those of a father, but that is not a reason for me to shut -my door on him. I am not a man, that I should repay kindness with -ingratitude! Know, monseigneur, that in all that relates to my -intimate feelings I render account only to God and to my -conscience," she concluded, laying her hand on her beautiful, fully -expanded bosom and looking up to heaven. - -"But for heaven's sake listen to me!" - -"Marry me, and I will be your slave!" - -"But that's impossible." - -"You won't deign to demean yourself by marrying me, you..." said -Helene, beginning to cry. - -The prince tried to comfort her, but Helene, as if quite distraught, -said through her tears that there was nothing to prevent her marrying, -that there were precedents (there were up to that time very few, but -she mentioned Napoleon and some other exalted personages), that she -had never been her husband's wife, and that she had been sacrificed. - -"But the law, religion..." said the prince, already yielding. - -"The law, religion... What have they been invented for if they can't -arrange that?" said Helene. - -The prince was surprised that so simple an idea had not occurred -to him, and he applied for advice to the holy brethren of the -Society of Jesus, with whom he was on intimate terms. - -A few days later at one of those enchanting fetes which Helene -gave at her country house on the Stone Island, the charming Monsieur -de Jobert, a man no longer young, with snow white hair and brilliant -black eyes, a Jesuit a robe courte~{ Lay member of the Society of Jesus. }~ was presented to her, and in the -garden by the light of the illuminations and to the sound of music -talked to her for a long time of the love of God, of Christ, of the -Sacred Heart, and of the consolations the one true Catholic religion -affords in this world and the next. Helene was touched, and more -than once tears rose to her eyes and to those of Monsieur de Jobert -and their voices trembled. A dance, for which her partner came to seek -her, put an end to her discourse with her future directeur de -conscience, but the next evening Monsieur de Jobert came to see Helene -when she was alone, and after that often came again. - -One day he took the countess to a Roman Catholic church, where she -knelt down before the altar to which she was led. The enchanting, -middle-aged Frenchman laid his hands on her head and, as she herself -afterward described it, she felt something like a fresh breeze -wafted into her soul. It was explained to her that this was la grace. - -After that a long-frocked abbe was brought to her. She confessed -to him, and he absolved her from her sins. Next day she received a box -containing the Sacred Host, which was left at her house for her to -partake of. A few days later Helene learned with pleasure that she had -now been admitted to the true Catholic Church and that in a few days -the Pope himself would hear of her and would send her a certain -document. - -All that was done around her and to her at this time, all the -attention devoted to her by so many clever men and expressed in such -pleasant, refined ways, and the state of dove-like purity she was -now in (she wore only white dresses and white ribbons all that time) -gave her pleasure, but her pleasure did not cause her for a moment -to forget her aim. And as it always happens in contests of cunning -that a stupid person gets the better of cleverer ones, Helene- -having realized that the main object of all these words and all this -trouble was, after converting her to Catholicism, to obtain money from -her for Jesuit institutions (as to which she received indications)- -before parting with her money insisted that the various operations -necessary to free her from her husband should be performed. In her -view the aim of every religion was merely to preserve certain -proprieties while affording satisfaction to human desires. And with -this aim, in one of her talks with her Father Confessor, she -insisted on an answer to the question, in how far was she bound by her -marriage? - -They were sitting in the twilight by a window in the drawing room. -The scent of flowers came in at the window. Helene was wearing a white -dress, transparent over her shoulders and bosom. The abbe, a -well-fed man with a plump, clean-shaven chin, a pleasant firm mouth, -and white hands meekly folded on his knees, sat close to Helene and, -with a subtle smile on his lips and a peaceful look of delight at -her beauty, occasionally glanced at her face as he explained his -opinion on the subject. Helene with an uneasy smile looked at his -curly hair and his plump, clean-shaven, blackish cheeks and every -moment expected the conversation to take a fresh turn. But the abbe, -though he evidently enjoyed the beauty of his companion, was -absorbed in his mastery of the matter. - -The course of the Father Confessor's arguments ran as follows: -"Ignorant of the import of what you were undertaking, you made a vow -of conjugal fidelity to a man who on his part, by entering the married -state without faith in the religious significance of marriage, -committed an act of sacrilege. That marriage lacked the dual -significance it should have had. Yet in spite of this your vow was -binding. You swerved from it. What did you commit by so acting? A -venial, or a mortal, sin? A venial sin, for you acted without evil -intention. If now you married again with the object of bearing -children, your sin might be forgiven. But the question is again a -twofold one: firstly..." - -But suddenly Helene, who was getting bored, said with one of her -bewitching smiles: "But I think that having espoused the true religion -I cannot be bound by what a false religion laid upon me." - -The director of her conscience was astounded at having the case -presented to him thus with the simplicity of Columbus' egg. He was -delighted at the unexpected rapidity of his pupil's progress, but -could not abandon the edifice of argument he had laboriously -constructed. - -"Let us understand one another, Countess," said he with a smile, and -began refuting his spiritual daughter's arguments. - -CHAPTER VII - -Helene understood that the question was very simple and easy from -the ecclesiastical point of view, and that her directors were making -difficulties only because they were apprehensive as to how the -matter would be regarded by the secular authorities. - -So she decided that it was necessary to prepare the opinion of -society. She provoked the jealousy of the elderly magnate and told him -what she had told her other suitor; that is, she put the matter so -that the only way for him to obtain a right over her was to marry her. -The elderly magnate was at first as much taken aback by this -suggestion of marriage with a woman whose husband was alive, as the -younger man had been, but Helene's imperturbable conviction that it -was as simple and natural as marrying a maiden had its effect on him -too. Had Helene herself shown the least sign of hesitation, shame, -or secrecy, her cause would certainly have been lost; but not only did -she show no signs of secrecy or shame, on the contrary, with -good-natured naivete she told her intimate friends (and these were all -Petersburg) that both the prince and the magnate had proposed to her -and that she loved both and was afraid of grieving either. - -A rumor immediately spread in Petersburg, not that Helene wanted -to be divorced from her husband (had such a report spread many would -have opposed so illegal an intention) but simply that the -unfortunate and interesting Helene was in doubt which of the two men -she should marry. The question was no longer whether this was -possible, but only which was the better match and how the matter would -be regarded at court. There were, it is true, some rigid individuals -unable to rise to the height of such a question, who saw in the -project a desecration of the sacrament of marriage, but there were not -many such and they remained silent, while the majority were interested -in Helene's good fortune and in the question which match would be -the more advantageous. Whether it was right or wrong to remarry -while one had a husband living they did not discuss, for that question -had evidently been settled by people "wiser than you or me," as they -said, and to doubt the correctness of that decision would be to risk -exposing one's stupidity and incapacity to live in society. - -Only Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova, had come to Petersburg that -summer to see one of her sons, allowed herself plainly to express an -opinion contrary to the general one. Meeting Helene at a ball she -stopped her in the middle of the room and, amid general silence, -said in her gruff voice: "So wives of living men have started marrying -again! Perhaps you think you have invented a novelty? You have been -forestalled, my dear! It was thought of long ago. It is done in all -the brothels," and with these words Marya Dmitrievna, turning up her -wide sleeves with her usual threatening gesture and glancing sternly -round, moved across the room. - -Though people were afraid of Marya Dmitrievna she was regarded in -Petersburg as a buffoon, and so of what she had said they only -noticed, and repeated in a whisper, the one coarse word she had -used, supposing the whole sting of her remark to lie in that word. - -Prince Vasili, who of late very often forgot what he had said and -repeated one and the same thing a hundred times, remarked to his -daughter whenever he chanced to see her: - -"Helene, I have a word to say to you," and he would lead her -aside, drawing her hand downward. "I have heard of certain projects -concerning... you know. Well my dear child, you know how your father's -heart rejoices to know that you... You have suffered so much.... -But, my dear child, consult only your own heart. That is all I have to -say," and concealing his unvarying emotion he would press his cheek -against his daughter's and move away. - -Bilibin, who had not lost his reputation of an exceedingly clever -man, and who was one of one of the disinterested friends so -brilliant a woman as Helene always has- men friends who can never -change into lovers- once gave her his view of the matter at a small -and intimate gathering. - -"Listen, Bilibin," said Helene (she always called friends of that -sort by their surnames), and she touched his coat sleeve with her -white, beringed fingers. "Tell me, as you would a sister, what I ought -to do. Which of the two?" - -Bilibin wrinkled up the skin over his eyebrows and pondered, with -a smile on his lips. - -"You are not taking me unawares, you know," said he. "As a true -friend, I have thought and thought again about your affair. You see, -if you marry the prince"- he meant the younger man- and he crooked one -finger, "you forever lose the chance of marrying the other, and you -will displease the court besides. (You know there is some kind of -connection.) But if you marry the old count you will make his last -days happy, and as widow of the Grand... the prince would no longer be -making a mesalliance by marrying you," and Bilibin smoothed out his -forehead. - -"That's a true friend!" said Helene beaming, and again touching -Bilibin's sleeve. "But I love them, you know, and don't want to -distress either of them. I would give my life for the happiness of -them both." - -Bilibin shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that not even he -could help in that difficulty. - -"Une maitresse-femme!~{ A masterly woman. }~ That's what is called putting things -squarely. She would like to be married to all three at the same time," -thought he. - -"But tell me, how will your husband look at the matter?" Bilibin -asked, his reputation being so well established that he did not fear -to ask so naive a question. "Will he agree?" - -"Oh, he loves me so!" said Helene, who for some reason imagined that -Pierre too loved her. "He will do anything for me." - -Bilibin puckered his skin in preparation for something witty. - -"Even divorce you?" said he. - -Helene laughed. - -Among those who ventured to doubt the justifiability of the proposed -marriage was Helene's mother, Princess Kuragina. She was continually -tormented by jealousy of her daughter, and now that jealousy concerned -a subject near to her own heart, she could not reconcile herself to -the idea. She consulted a Russian priest as to the possibility of -divorce and remarriage during a husband's lifetime, and the priest -told her that it was impossible, and to her delight showed her a -text in the Gospel which (as it seemed to him) plainly remarriage -while the husband is alive. - -Armed with these arguments, which appeared to her unanswerable, -she drove to her daughter's early one morning so as to find her alone. - -Having listened to her mother's objections, Helene smiled blandly -and ironically. - -"But it says plainly: 'Whosoever shall marry her that is -divorced...'" said the old princess. - -"Ah, Maman, ne dites pas de betises. Vous ne comprenez rein. Dans ma -position j'ai des devoirs,"~{ "Oh, Mamma, don't talk nonsense! You don't understand anything. -In my position I have obligations. }~ said Helene changing from Russian, in -which language she always felt that her case did not sound quite -clear, into French which suited it better. - -"But, my dear...." - -"Oh, Mamma, how is it you don't understand that the Holy Father, who -has the right to grant dispensations..." - -Just then the lady companion who lived with Helene came in to -announce that His Highness was in the ballroom and wished to see her. - -"Non, dites-lui que je ne veux pas le voir, que je suis furieuse -contre lui, parce qu'il m' a manque parole."~{ "No, tell him I don't wish to see him, I am furious with him for -not keeping his word to me." }~ - -"Comtesse, a tout peche misericorde,"~{ "Countess, there is mercy for every sin." }~ said a fair-haired young -man with a long face and nose, as he entered the room. - -The old princess rose respectfully and curtsied. The young man who -had entered took no notice of her. The princess nodded to her daughter -and sidled out of the room. - -"Yes, she is right," thought the old princess, all her convictions -dissipated by the appearance of His Highness. "She is right, but how -is it that we in our irrecoverable youth did not know it? Yet it is so -simple," she thought as she got into her carriage. - -By the beginning of August Helene's affairs were clearly defined and -she wrote a letter to her husband- who, as she imagined, loved her -very much- informing him of her intention to marry N.N. and of her -having embraced the one true faith, and asking him to carry out all -the formalities necessary for a divorce, which would be explained to -him by the bearer of the letter. - -And so I pray God to have you, my friend, in His holy and powerful -keeping- Your friend Helene. - -This letter was brought to Pierre's house when he was on the field -of Borodino. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Toward the end of the battle of Borodino, Pierre, having run down -from Raevski's battery a second time, made his way through a gully -to Knyazkovo with a crowd of soldiers, reached the dressing station, -and seeing blood and hearing cries and groans hurried on, still -entangled in the crowds of soldiers. - -The one thing he now desired with his whole soul was to get away -quickly from the terrible sensations amid which he had lived that -day and return to ordinary conditions of life and sleep quietly in a -room in his own bed. He felt that only in the ordinary conditions of -life would he be able to understand himself and all he had seen and -felt. But such ordinary conditions of life were nowhere to be found. - -Though shells and bullets did not whistle over the road along -which he was going, still on all sides there was what there had been -on the field of battle. There were still the same suffering, -exhausted, and sometimes strangely indifferent faces, the same -blood, the same soldiers' overcoats, the same sounds of firing -which, though distant now, still aroused terror, and besides this -there were the foul air and the dust. - -Having gone a couple of miles along the Mozhaysk road, Pierre sat -down by the roadside. - -Dusk had fallen, and the roar of guns died away. Pierre lay -leaning on his elbow for a long time, gazing at the shadows that moved -past him in the darkness. He was continually imagining that a cannon -ball was flying toward him with a terrific whizz, and then he -shuddered and sat up. He had no idea how long he had been there. In -the middle of the night three soldiers, having brought some -firewood, settled down near him and began lighting a fire. - -The soldiers, who threw sidelong glances at Pierre, got the fire -to burn and placed an iron pot on it into which they broke some -dried bread and put a little dripping. The pleasant odor of greasy -viands mingled with the smell of smoke. Pierre sat up and sighed. -The three soldiers were eating and talking among themselves, taking no -notice of him. - -"And who may you be?" one of them suddenly asked Pierre, evidently -meaning what Pierre himself had in mind, namely: "If you want to eat -we'll give you some food, only let us know whether you are an honest -man." - -"I, I..." said Pierre, feeling it necessary to minimize his social -position as much as possible so as to be nearer to the soldiers and -better understood by them. "By rights I am a militia officer, but my -men are not here. I came to the battle and have lost them." - -"There now!" said one of the soldiers. - -Another shook his head. - -"Would you like a little mash?" the first soldier asked, and -handed Pierre a wooden spoon after licking it clean. - -Pierre sat down by the fire and began eating the mash, as they -called the food in the cauldron, and he thought it more delicious than -any food he had ever tasted. As he sat bending greedily over it, -helping himself to large spoonfuls and chewing one after another, -his was lit up by the fire and the soldiers looked at him in silence. - -"Where have you to go to? Tell us!" said one of them. - -"To Mozhaysk." - -"You're a gentleman, aren't you?" - -"Yes." - -"And what's your name?" - -"Peter Kirilych." - -"Well then, Peter Kirilych, come along with us, we'll take you -there." - -In the total darkness the soldiers walked with Pierre to Mozhaysk. - -By the time they got near Mozhaysk and began ascending the steep -hill into the town, the cocks were already crowing. Pierre went on -with the soldiers, quite forgetting that his inn was at the bottom -of the hill and that he had already passed it. He would not soon -have remembered this, such was his state of forgetfulness, had he -not halfway up the hill stumbled upon his groom, who had been to -look for him in the town and was returning to the inn. The groom -recognized Pierre in the darkness by his white hat. - -"Your excellency!" he said. "Why, we were beginning to despair! -How is it you are on foot? And where are you going, please?" - -"Oh, yes!" said Pierre. - -The soldiers stopped. - -"So you've found your folk?" said one of them. "Well, good-by, Peter -Kirilych- isn't it?" - -"Good-by, Peter Kirilych!" Pierre heard the other voices repeat. - -"Good-by!" he said and turned with his groom toward the inn. - -"I ought to give them something!" he thought, and felt in his -pocket. "No, better not!" said another, inner voice. - -There was not a room to be had at the inn, they were all occupied. -Pierre went out into the yard and, covering himself up head and all, -lay down in his carriage. - -CHAPTER IX - -Scarcely had Pierre laid his head on the pillow before he felt -himself falling asleep, but suddenly, almost with the distinctness -of reality, he heard the boom, boom, boom of firing, the thud of -projectiles, groans and cries, and smelled blood and powder, and a -feeling of horror and dread of death seized him. Filled with fright he -opened his eyes and lifted his head from under his cloak. All was -tranquil in the yard. Only someone's orderly passed through the -gateway, splashing through the mud, and talked to the innkeeper. Above -Pierre's head some pigeons, disturbed by the movement he had made in -sitting up, fluttered under the dark roof of the penthouse. The -whole courtyard was permeated by a strong peaceful smell of stable -yards, delightful to Pierre at that moment. He could see the clear -starry sky between the dark roofs of two penthouses. - -"Thank God, there is no more of that!" he thought, covering up his -head again. "Oh, what a terrible thing is fear, and how shamefully I -yielded to it! But they... they were steady and calm all the time, -to the end..." thought he. - -They, in Pierre's mind, were the soldiers, those who had been at the -battery, those who had given him food, and those who had prayed before -the icon. They, those strange men he had not previously known, stood -out clearly and sharply from everyone else. - -"To be a soldier, just a soldier!" thought Pierre as he fell asleep, -"to enter communal life completely, to be imbued by what makes them -what they are. But how cast off all the superfluous, devilish burden -of my outer man? There was a time when I could have done it. I could -have run away from my father, as I wanted to. Or I might have been -sent to serve as a soldier after the duel with Dolokhov." And the -memory of the dinner at the English Club when he had challenged -Dolokhov flashed through Pierre's mind, and then he remembered his -benefactor at Torzhok. And now a picture of a solemn meeting of the -lodge presented itself to his mind. It was taking place at the English -Club and someone near and dear to him sat at the end of the table. -"Yes, that is he! It is my benefactor. But he died!" thought Pierre. -"Yes, he died, and I did not know he was alive. How sorry I am that he -died, and how glad I am that he is alive again!" On one side of the -table sat Anatole, Dolokhov, Nesvitski, Denisov, and others like -them (in his dream the category to which these men belonged was as -clearly defined in his mind as the category of those he termed -they), and he heard those people, Anatole and Dolokhov, shouting and -singing loudly; yet through their shouting the voice of his benefactor -was heard speaking all the time and the sound of his words was as -weighty and uninterrupted as the booming on the battlefield, but -pleasant and comforting. Pierre did not understand what his benefactor -was saying, but he knew (the categories of thoughts were also quite -distinct in his dream) that he was talking of goodness and the -possibility of being what they were. And they with their simple, kind, -firm faces surrounded his benefactor on all sides. But though they -were kindly they did not look at Pierre and did not know him. -Wishing to speak and to attract their attention, he got up, but at -that moment his legs grew cold and bare. - -He felt ashamed, and with one arm covered his legs from which his -cloak had in fact slipped. For a moment as he was rearranging his -cloak Pierre opened his eyes and saw the same penthouse roofs, -posts, and yard, but now they were all bluish, lit up, and -glittering with frost or dew. - -"It is dawn," thought Pierre. "But that's not what I want. I want to -hear and understand my benefactor's words." Again he covered himself -up with his cloak, but now neither the lodge nor his benefactor was -there. There were only thoughts clearly expressed in words, thoughts -that someone was uttering or that he himself was formulating. - -Afterwards when he recalled those thoughts Pierre was convinced that -someone outside himself had spoken them, though the impressions of -that day had evoked them. He had never, it seemed to him, been able to -think and express his thoughts like that when awake. - -"To endure war is the most difficult subordination of man's -freedom to the law of God," the voice had said. "Simplicity is -submission to the will of God; you cannot escape from Him. And they -are simple. They do not talk, but act. The spoken word is silver but -the unspoken is golden. Man can be master of nothing while he fears -death, but he who does not fear it possesses all. If there were no -suffering, man would not know his limitations, would not know himself. -The hardest thing [Pierre went on thinking, or hearing, in his -dream] is to be able in your soul to unite the meaning of all. To -unite all?" he asked himself. "No, not to unite. Thoughts cannot be -united, but to harness all these thoughts together is what we need! -Yes, one must harness them, must harness them!" he repeated to himself -with inward rapture, feeling that these words and they alone expressed -what he wanted to say and solved the question that tormented him. - -"Yes, one must harness, it is time to harness." - -"Time to harness, time to harness, your excellency! Your -excellency!" some voice was repeating. "We must harness, it is time to -harness...." - -It was the voice of the groom, trying to wake him. The sun shone -straight into Pierre's face. He glanced at the dirty innyard in the -middle of which soldiers were watering their lean horses at the pump -while carts were passing out of the gate. Pierre turned away with -repugnance, and closing his eyes quickly fell back on the carriage -seat. "No, I don't want that, I don't want to see and understand that. -I want to understand what was revealing itself to me in my dream. -One second more and I should have understood it all! But what am I -to do? Harness, but how can I harness everything?" and Pierre felt -with horror that the meaning of all he had seen and thought in the -dream had been destroyed. - -The groom, the coachman, and the innkeeper told Pierre that an -officer had come with news that the French were already near -Mozhaysk and that our men were leaving it. - -Pierre got up and, having told them to harness and overtake him, -went on foot through the town. - -The troops were moving on, leaving about ten thousand wounded behind -them. There were wounded in the yards, at the windows of the houses, -and the streets were crowded with them. In the streets, around carts -that were to take some of the wounded away, shouts, curses, and -blows could be heard. Pierre offered the use of his carriage, which -had overtaken him, to a wounded general he knew, and drove with him to -Moscow. On the way Pierre was told of the death of his -brother-in-law Anatole and of that of Prince Andrew. - -CHAPTER X - -On the thirteenth of August Pierre reached Moscow. Close to the -gates of the city he was met by Count Rostopchin's adjutant. - -"We have been looking for you everywhere," said the adjutant. "The -count wants to see you particularly. He asks you to come to him at -once on a very important matter." - -Without going home, Pierre took a cab and drove to see the Moscow -commander in chief. - -Count Rostopchin had only that morning returned to town from his -summer villa at Sokolniki. The anteroom and reception room of his -house were full of officials who had been summoned or had come for -orders. Vasilchikov and Platov had already seen the count and -explained to him that it was impossible to defend Moscow and that it -would have to be surrendered. Though this news was being concealed -from the inhabitants, the officials- the heads of the various -government departments- knew that Moscow would soon be in the -enemy's hands, just as Count Rostopchin himself knew it, and to escape -personal responsibility they had all come to the governor to ask how -they were to deal with their various departments. - -As Pierre was entering the reception room a courier from the army -came out of Rostopchin's private room. - -In answer to questions with which he was greeted, the courier made a -despairing gesture with his hand and passed through the room. - -While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched -the various officials, old and young, military and civilian, who -were there. They all seemed dissatisfied and uneasy. Pierre went up to -a group of men, one of whom he knew. After greeting Pierre they -continued their conversation. - -"If they're sent out and brought back again later on it will do no -harm, but as things are now one can't answer for anything." - -"But you see what he writes..." said another, pointing to a -printed sheet he held in his hand. - -"That's another matter. That's necessary for the people," said the -first. - -"What is it?" asked Pierre. - -"Oh, it's a fresh broadsheet." - -Pierre took it and began reading. - -His Serene Highness has passed through Mozhaysk in order to join -up with the troops moving toward him and has taken up a strong -position where the enemy will not soon attack him. Forty eight guns -with ammunition have been sent him from here, and his Serene -Highness says he will defend Moscow to the last drop of blood and is -even ready to fight in the streets. Do not be upset, brothers, that -the law courts are closed; things have to be put in order, and we will -deal with villains in our own way! When the time comes I shall want -both town and peasant lads and will raise the cry a day or two -beforehand, but they are not wanted yet so I hold my peace. An ax will -be useful, a hunting spear not bad, but a three-pronged fork will be -best of all: a Frenchman is no heavier than a sheaf of rye. Tomorrow -after dinner I shall take the Iberian icon of the Mother of God to the -wounded in the Catherine Hospital where we will have some water -blessed. That will help them to get well quicker. I, too, am well now: -one of my eyes was sore but now I am on the lookout with both. - -"But military men have told me that it is impossible to fight in the -town," said Pierre, "and that the position..." - -"Well, of course! That's what we were saying," replied the first -speaker. - -"And what does he mean by 'One of my eyes was sore but now I am on -the lookout with both'?" asked Pierre. - -"The count had a sty," replied the adjutant smiling, "and was very -much upset when I told him people had come to ask what was the -matter with him. By the by, Count," he added suddenly, addressing -Pierre with a smile, "we heard that you have family troubles and -that the countess, your wife..." - -"I have heard nothing," Pierre replied unconcernedly. "But what have -you heard?" - -"Oh, well, you know people often invent things. I only say what I -heard." - -"But what did you hear?" - -"Well, they say," continued the adjutant with the same smile, -"that the countess, your wife, is preparing to go abroad. I expect -it's nonsense...." - -"Possibly," remarked Pierre, looking about him absent-mindedly. "And -who is that?" he asked, indicating a short old man in a clean blue -peasant overcoat, with a big snow-white beard and eyebrows and a ruddy -face. - -"He? That's a tradesman, that is to say, he's the restaurant keeper, -Vereshchagin. Perhaps you have heard of that affair with the -proclamation." - -"Oh, so that is Vereshchagin!" said Pierre, looking at the firm, -calm face of the old man and seeking any indication of his being a -traitor. - -"That's not he himself, that's the father of the fellow who wrote -the proclamation," said the adjutant. "The young man is in prison -and I expect it will go hard with him." - -An old gentleman wearing a star and another official, a German -wearing a cross round his neck, approached the speaker. - -"It's a complicated story, you know," said the adjutant. "That -proclamation appeared about two months ago. The count was informed -of it. He gave orders to investigate the matter. Gabriel Ivanovich -here made the inquiries. The proclamation had passed through exactly -sixty-three hands. He asked one, 'From whom did you get it?' 'From -so-and-so.' He went to the next one. 'From whom did you get it?' and -so on till he reached Vereshchagin, a half educated tradesman, you -know, 'a pet of a trader,'" said the adjutant smiling. "They asked -him, 'Who gave it you?' And the point is that we knew whom he had it -from. He could only have had it from the Postmaster. But evidently -they had come to some understanding. He replied: 'From no one; I -made it up myself.' They threatened and questioned him, but he stuck -to that: 'I made it up myself.' And so it was reported to the count, -who sent for the man. 'From whom did you get the proclamation?' 'I -wrote it myself.' Well, you know the count," said the adjutant -cheerfully, with a smile of pride, "he flared up dreadfully- and -just think of the fellow's audacity, lying, and obstinacy!" - -"And the count wanted him to say it was from Klyucharev? I -understand!" said Pierre. - -"Not at all," rejoined the adjutant in dismay. "Klyucharev had his -own sins to answer for without that and that is why he has been -banished. But the point is that the count was much annoyed. 'How could -you have written it yourself?' said he, and he took up the Hamburg -Gazette that was lying on the table. 'Here it is! You did not write it -yourself but translated it, and translated it abominably, because -you don't even know French, you fool.' And what do you think? 'No,' -said he, 'I have not read any papers, I made it up myself.' 'If that's -so, you're a traitor and I'll have you tried, and you'll be hanged! -Say from whom you had it.' 'I have seen no papers, I made it up -myself.' And that was the end of it. The count had the father fetched, -but the fellow stuck to it. He was sent for trial and condemned to -hard labor, I believe. Now the father has come to intercede for him. -But he's a good-for-nothing lad! You know that sort of tradesman's -son, a dandy and lady-killer. He attended some lectures somewhere -and imagines that the devil is no match for him. That's the sort of -fellow he is. His father keeps a cookshop here by the Stone Bridge, -and you know there was a large icon of God Almighty painted with a -scepter in one hand and an orb in the other. Well, he took that icon -home with him for a few days and what did he do? He found some -scoundrel of a painter..." - -CHAPTER XI - -In the middle of this fresh tale Pierre was summoned to the -commander in chief. - -When he entered the private room Count Rostopchin, puckering his -face, was rubbing his forehead and eyes with his hand. A short man was -saying something, but when Pierre entered he stopped speaking and went -out. - -"Ah, how do you do, great warrior?" said Rostopchin as soon as the -short man had left the room. "We have heard of your prowess. But -that's not the point. Between ourselves, mon cher, do you belong to -the Masons?" he went on severely, as though there were something wrong -about it which he nevertheless intended to pardon. Pierre remained -silent. "I am well informed, my friend, but I am aware that there -are Masons and Masons and I hope that you are not one of those who -on pretense of saving mankind wish to ruin Russia." - -"Yes, I am a Mason," Pierre replied. - -"There, you see, mon cher! I expect you know that Messrs. -Speranski and Magnitski have been deported to their proper place. -Mr. Klyucharev has been treated in the same way, and so have others -who on the plea of building up the temple of Solomon have tried to -destroy the temple of their fatherland. You can understand that -there are reasons for this and that I could not have exiled the -Postmaster had he not been a harmful person. It has now come to my -knowledge that you lent him your carriage for his removal from town, -and that you have even accepted papers from him for safe custody. I -like you and don't wish you any harm and- as you are only half my age- -I advise you, as a father would, to cease all communication with men -of that stamp and to leave here as soon as possible." - -"But what did Klyucharev do wrong, Count?" asked Pierre. - -"That is for me to know, but not for you to ask," shouted -Rostopchin. - -"If he is accused of circulating Napoleon's proclamation it is not -proved that he did so," said Pierre without looking at Rostopchin, -"and Vereshchagin..." - -"There we are!" Rostopchin shouted at Pierre louder than before, -frowning suddenly. "Vereshchagin is a renegade and a traitor who -will be punished as he deserves," said he with the vindictive heat -with which people speak when recalling an insult. "But I did not -summon you to discuss my actions, but to give you advice- or an -order if you prefer it. I beg you to leave the town and break off -all communication with such men as Klyucharev. And I will knock the -nonsense out of anybody"- but probably realizing that he was -shouting at Bezukhov who so far was not guilty of anything, he -added, taking Pierre's hand in a friendly manner, "We are on the eve -of a public disaster and I haven't time to be polite to everybody -who has business with me. My head is sometimes in a whirl. Well, mon -cher, what are you doing personally?" - -"Why, nothing," answered Pierre without raising his eyes or changing -the thoughtful expression of his face. - -The count frowned. - -"A word of friendly advice, mon cher. Be off as soon as you can, -that's all I have to tell you. Happy he who has ears to hear. Good-by, -my dear fellow. Oh, by the by!" he shouted through the doorway after -Pierre, "is it true that the countess has fallen into the clutches -of the holy fathers of the Society of Jesus?" - -Pierre did not answer and left Rostopchin's room more sullen and -angry than he had ever before shown himself. - -When he reached home it was already getting dark. Some eight -people had come to see him that evening: the secretary of a committee, -the colonel of his battalion, his steward, his major-domo, and various -petitioners. They all had business with Pierre and wanted decisions -from him. Pierre did not understand and was not interested in any of -these questions and only answered them in order to get rid of these -people. When left alone at last he opened and read his wife's letter. - -"They, the soldiers at the battery, Prince Andrew killed... that old -man... Simplicity is submission to God. Suffering is necessary... -the meaning of all... one must harness... my wife is getting -married... One must forget and understand..." And going to his bed -he threw himself on it without undressing and immediately fell asleep. - -When he awoke next morning the major-domo came to inform him that -a special messenger, a police officer, had come from Count -Rostopchin to know whether Count Bezukhov had left or was leaving -the town. - -A dozen persons who had business with Pierre were awaiting him in -the drawing room. Pierre dressed hurriedly and, instead of going to -see them, went to the back porch and out through the gate. - -From that time till the end of the destruction of Moscow no one of -Bezukhov's household, despite all the search they made, saw Pierre -again or knew where he was. - -CHAPTER XII - -The Rostovs remained in Moscow till the first of September, that is, -till the eve of the enemy's entry into the city. - -After Petya had joined Obolenski's regiment of Cossacks and left for -Belaya Tserkov where that regiment was forming, the countess was -seized with terror. The thought that both her sons were at the war, -had both gone from under her wing, that today or tomorrow either or -both of them might be killed like the three sons of one of her -acquaintances, struck her that summer for the first time with cruel -clearness. She tried to get Nicholas back and wished to go herself -to join Petya, or to get him an appointment somewhere in Petersburg, -but neither of these proved possible. Petya could not return unless -his regiment did so or unless he was transferred to another regiment -on active service. Nicholas was somewhere with the army and had not -sent a word since his last letter, in which he had given a detailed -account of his meeting with Princess Mary. The countess did not -sleep at night, or when she did fall asleep dreamed that she saw her -sons lying dead. After many consultations and conversations, the count -at last devised means to tranquillize her. He got Petya transferred -from Obolenski's regiment to Bezukhov's, which was in training near -Moscow. Though Petya would remain in the service, this transfer -would give the countess the consolation of seeing at least one of -her sons under her wing, and she hoped to arrange matters for her -Petya so as not to let him go again, but always get him appointed to -places where he could not possibly take part in a battle. As long as -Nicholas alone was in danger the countess imagined that she loved -her first-born more than all her other children and even reproached -herself for it; but when her youngest: the scapegrace who had been bad -at lessons, was always breaking things in the house and making himself -a nuisance to everybody, that snub-nosed Petya with his merry black -eyes and fresh rosy cheeks where soft down was just beginning to show- -when he was thrown amid those big, dreadful, cruel men who were -fighting somewhere about something and apparently finding pleasure -in it- then his mother thought she loved him more, much more, than all -her other children. The nearer the time came for Petya to return, -the more uneasy grew the countess. She began to think she would -never live to see such happiness. The presence of Sonya, of her -beloved Natasha, or even of her husband irritated her. "What do I want -with them? I want no one but Petya," she thought. - -At the end of August the Rostovs received another letter from -Nicholas. He wrote from the province of Voronezh where he had been -sent to procure remounts, but that letter did not set the countess -at ease. Knowing that one son was out of danger she became the more -anxious about Petya. - -Though by the twentieth of August nearly all the Rostovs' -acquaintances had left Moscow, and though everybody tried to -persuade the countess to get away as quickly as possible, she would -not bear of leaving before her treasure, her adored Petya, returned. -On the twenty-eighth of August he arrived. The passionate tenderness -with which his mother received him did not please the sixteen-year-old -officer. Though she concealed from him her intention of keeping him -under her wing, Petya guessed her designs, and instinctively fearing -that he might give way to emotion when with her- might "become -womanish" as he termed it to himself- he treated her coldly, avoided -her, and during his stay in Moscow attached himself exclusively to -Natasha for whom he had always had a particularly brotherly -tenderness, almost lover-like. - -Owing to the count's customary carelessness nothing was ready for -their departure by the twenty-eighth of August and the carts that were -to come from their Ryazan and Moscow estates to remove their household -belongings did not arrive till the thirtieth. - -From the twenty-eighth till the thirty-first all Moscow was in a -bustle and commotion. Every day thousands of men wounded at Borodino -were brought in by the Dorogomilov gate and taken to various parts -of Moscow, and thousands of carts conveyed the inhabitants and their -possessions out by the other gates. In spite of Rostopchin's -broadsheets, or because of them or independently of them, the -strangest and most contradictory rumors were current in the town. Some -said that no one was to be allowed to leave the city, others on the -contrary said that all the icons had been taken out of the churches -and everybody was to be ordered to leave. Some said there had been -another battle after Borodino at which the French had been routed, -while others on the contrary reported that the Russian army bad been -destroyed. Some talked about the Moscow militia which, preceded by the -clergy, would go to the Three Hills; others whispered that Augustin -had been forbidden to leave, that traitors had been seized, that the -peasants were rioting and robbing people on their way from Moscow, and -so on. But all this was only talk; in reality (though the Council of -Fili, at which it was decided to abandon Moscow, had not yet been -held) both those who went away and those who remained behind felt, -though they did not show it, that Moscow would certainly be abandoned, -and that they ought to get away as quickly as possible and save -their belongings. It was felt that everything would suddenly break -up and change, but up to the first of September nothing had done so. -As a criminal who is being led to execution knows that he must die -immediately, but yet looks about him and straightens the cap that is -awry on his head, so Moscow involuntarily continued its wonted life, -though it knew that the time of its destruction was near when the -conditions of life to which its people were accustomed to submit would -be completely upset. - -During the three days preceding the occupation of Moscow the whole -Rostov family was absorbed in various activities. The head of the -family, Count Ilya Rostov, continually drove about the city collecting -the current rumors from all sides and gave superficial and hasty -orders at home about the preparations for their departure. - -The countess watched the things being packed, was dissatisfied -with everything, was constantly in pursuit of Petya who was always -running away from her, and was jealous of Natasha with whom he spent -all his time. Sonya alone directed the practical side of matters by -getting things packed. But of late Sonya had been particularly sad and -silent. Nicholas' letter in which he mentioned Princess Mary had -elicited, in her presence, joyous comments from the countess, who -saw an intervention of Providence in this meeting of the princess -and Nicholas. - -"I was never pleased at Bolkonski's engagement to Natasha," said the -countess, "but I always wanted Nicholas to marry the princess, and had -a presentiment that it would happen. What a good thing it would be!" - -Sonya felt that this was true: that the only possibility of -retrieving the Rostovs' affairs was by Nicholas marrying a rich woman, -and that the princess was a good match. It was very bitter for her. -But despite her grief, or perhaps just because of it, she took on -herself all the difficult work of directing the storing and packing of -their things and was busy for whole days. The count and countess -turned to her when they had any orders to give. Petya and Natasha on -the contrary, far from helping their parents, were generally a -nuisance and a hindrance to everyone. Almost all day long the house -resounded with their running feet, their cries, and their -spontaneous laughter. They laughed and were gay not because there -was any reason to laugh, but because gaiety and mirth were in their -hearts and so everything that happened was a cause for gaiety and -laughter to them. Petya was in high spirits because having left home a -boy he had returned (as everybody told him) a fine young man, -because he was at home, because he had left Belaya Tserkov where there -was no hope of soon taking part in a battle and had come to Moscow -where there was to be fighting in a few days, and chiefly because -Natasha, whose lead he always followed, was in high spirits. Natasha -was gay because she had been sad too long and now nothing reminded her -of the cause of her sadness, and because she was feeling well. She was -also happy because she had someone to adore her: the adoration of -others was a lubricant the wheels of her machine needed to make them -run freely- and Petya adored her. Above all, they were gay because -there was a war near Moscow, there would be fighting at the town -gates, arms were being given out, everybody was escaping- going away -somewhere, and in general something extraordinary was happening, and -that is always exciting, especially to the young. - -CHAPTER XIII - -On Saturday, the thirty-first of August, everything in the -Rostovs' house seemed topsy-turvy. All the doors were open, all the -furniture was being carried out or moved about, and the mirrors and -pictures had been taken down. There were trunks in the rooms, and hay, -wrapping paper, and ropes were scattered about. The peasants and house -serfs carrying out the things were treading heavily on the parquet -floors. The yard was crowded with peasant carts, some loaded high -and already corded up, others still empty. - -The voices and footsteps of the many servants and of the peasants -who had come with the carts resounded as they shouted to one another -in the yard and in the house. The count bad been out since morning. -The countess had a headache brought on by all the noise and turmoil -and was lying down in the new sitting room with a vinegar compress -on her head. Petya was not at home, he had gone to visit a friend with -whom he meant to obtain a transfer from the militia to the active -army. Sonya was in the ballroom looking after the packing of the glass -and china. Natasha was sitting on the floor of her dismantled room -with dresses, ribbons, and scarves strewn all about her, gazing -fixedly at the floor and holding in her hands the old ball dress -(already out of fashion) which she had worn at her first Petersburg -ball. - -Natasha was ashamed of doing nothing when everyone else was so busy, -and several times that morning had tried to set to work, but her heart -was not in it, and she could not and did not know how to do anything -except with all her heart and all her might. For a while she had stood -beside Sonya while the china was being packed and tried to help, but -soon gave it up and went to her room to pack her own things. At -first she found it amusing to give away dresses and ribbons to the -maids, but when that was done and what was left had still to be -packed, she found it dull. - -"Dunyasha, you pack! You will, won't you, dear?" And when Dunyasha -willingly promised to do it all for her, Natasha sat down on the -floor, took her old ball dress, and fell into a reverie quite -unrelated to what ought to have occupied her thoughts now. She was -roused from her reverie by the talk of the maids in the next room -(which was theirs) and by the sound of their hurried footsteps going -to the back porch. Natasha got up and looked out of the window. An -enormously long row of carts full of wounded men had stopped in the -street. - -The housekeeper, the old nurse, the cooks, coachmen, maids, footmen, -postilions, and scullions stood at the gate, staring at the wounded. - -Natasha, throwing a clean pocket handkerchief over her hair and -holding an end of it in each hand, went out into the street. - -The former housekeeper, old Mavra Kuzminichna, had stepped out of -the crowd by the gate, gone up to a cart with a hood constructed of -bast mats, and was speaking to a pale young officer who lay inside. -Natasha moved a few steps forward and stopped shyly, still holding her -handkerchief, and listened to what the housekeeper was saying. - -"Then you have nobody in Moscow?" she was saying. "You would be more -comfortable somewhere in a house... in ours, for instance... the -family are leaving." - -"I don't know if it would be allowed," replied the officer in a weak -voice. "Here is our commanding officer... ask him," and he pointed -to a stout major who was walking back along the street past the row of -carts. - -Natasha glanced with frightened eyes at the face of the wounded -officer and at once went to meet the major. - -"May the wounded men stay in our house?" she asked. - -The major raised his hand to his cap with a smile. - -"Which one do you want, Ma'am'selle?" said he, screwing up his -eyes and smiling. - -Natasha quietly repeated her question, and her face and whole manner -were so serious, though she was still holding the ends of her -handkerchief, that the major ceased smiling and after some reflection- -as if considering in how far the thing was possible- replied in the -affirmative. - -"Oh yes, why not? They may," he said. - -With a slight inclination of her head, Natasha stepped back -quickly to Mavra Kuzminichna, who stood talking compassionately to the -officer. - -"They may. He says they may!" whispered Natasha. - -The cart in which the officer lay was turned into the Rostovs' yard, -and dozens of carts with wounded men began at the invitation of the -townsfolk to turn into the yards and to draw up at the entrances of -the houses in Povarskaya Street. Natasha was evidently pleased to be -dealing with new people outside the ordinary routine of her life. -She and Mavra Kuzminichna tried to get as many of the wounded as -possible into their yard. - -"Your Papa must be told, though," said Mavra Kuzminichna. - -"Never mind, never mind, what does it matter? For one day we can -move into the drawing room. They can have all our half of the house." - -"There now, young lady, you do take things into your head! Even if -we put them into the wing, the men's room, or the nurse's room, we -must ask permission." - -"Well, I'll ask." - -Natasha ran into the house and went on tiptoe through the -half-open door into the sitting room, where there was a smell of -vinegar and Hoffman's drops. - -"Are you asleep, Mamma?" - -"Oh, what sleep-?" said the countess, waking up just as she was -dropping into a doze. - -"Mamma darling!" said Natasha, kneeling by her mother and bringing -her face close to her mother's, "I am sorry, forgive me, I'll never do -it again; I woke you up! Mavra Kuzminichna has sent me: they have -brought some wounded here- officers. Will you let them come? They have -nowhere to go. I knew you'd let them come!" she said quickly all in -one breath. - -"What officers? Whom have they brought? I don't understand -anything about it," said the countess. - -Natasha laughed, and the countess too smiled slightly. - -"I knew you'd give permission... so I'll tell them," and, having -kissed her mother, Natasha got up and went to the door. - -In the hall she met her father, who had returned with bad news. - -"We've stayed too long!" said the count with involuntary vexation. -"The Club is closed and the police are leaving." - -"Papa, is it all right- I've invited some of the wounded into the -house?" said Natasha. - -"Of course it is," he answered absently. "That's not the point. I -beg you not to indulge in trifles now, but to help to pack, and -tomorrow we must go, go, go!...." - -And the count gave a similar order to the major-domo and the -servants. - -At dinner Petya having returned home told them the news he had -heard. He said the people had been getting arms in the Kremlin, and -that though Rostopchin's broadsheet had said that he would sound a -call two or three days in advance, the order had certainly already -been given for everyone to go armed to the Three Hills tomorrow, and -that there would be a big battle there. - -The countess looked with timid horror at her son's eager, excited -face as he said this. She realized that if she said a word about his -not going to the battle (she knew he enjoyed the thought of the -impending engagement) he would say something about men, honor, and the -fatherland- something senseless, masculine, and obstinate which -there would be no contradicting, and her plans would be spoiled; and -so, hoping to arrange to leave before then and take Petya with her -as their protector and defender, she did not answer him, but after -dinner called the count aside and implored him with tears to take -her away quickly, that very night if possible. With a woman's -involuntary loving cunning she, who till then had not shown any alarm, -said that she would die of fright if they did not leave that very -night. Without any pretense she was now afraid of everything. - -CHAPTER XIV - -Madame Schoss, who had been out to visit her daughter, increased the -countess' fears still more by telling what she had seen at a spirit -dealer's in Myasnitski Street. When returning by that street she had -been unable to pass because of a drunken crowd rioting in front of the -shop. She had taken a cab and driven home by a side street and the -cabman had told her that the people were breaking open the barrels -at the drink store, having received orders to do so. - -After dinner the whole Rostov household set to work with -enthusiastic haste packing their belongings and preparing for their -departure. The old count, suddenly setting to work, kept passing -from the yard to the house and back again, shouting confused -instructions to the hurrying people, and flurrying them still more. -Petya directed things in the yard. Sonya, owing to the count's -contradictory orders, lost her head and did not know what to do. The -servants ran noisily about the house and yard, shouting and disputing. -Natasha, with the ardor characteristic of all she did suddenly set -to work too. At first her intervention in the business of packing -was received skeptically. Everybody expected some prank from her and -did not wish to obey her; but she resolutely and passionately demanded -obedience, grew angry and nearly cried because they did not heed -her, and at last succeeded in making them believe her. Her first -exploit, which cost her immense effort and established her -authority, was the packing of the carpets. The count had valuable -Gobelin tapestries and Persian carpets in the house. When Natasha -set to work two cases were standing open in the ballroom, one almost -full up with crockery, the other with carpets. There was also much -china standing on the tables, and still more was being brought in from -the storeroom. A third case was needed and servants had gone to -fetch it. - -"Sonya, wait a bit- we'll pack everything into these," said Natasha. - -"You can't, Miss, we have tried to," said the butler's assistant. - -"No, wait a minute, please." - -And Natasha began rapidly taking out of the case dishes and plates -wrapped in paper. - -"The dishes must go in here among the carpets," said she. - -"Why, it's a mercy if we can get the carpets alone into three -cases," said the butler's assistant. - -"Oh, wait, please!" And Natasha began rapidly and deftly sorting out -the things. "These aren't needed," said she, putting aside some plates -of Kiev ware. "These- yes, these must go among the carpets," she said, -referring to the Saxony china dishes. - -"Don't, Natasha! Leave it alone! We'll get it all packed," urged -Sonya reproachfully. - -"What a young lady she is!" remarked the major-domo. - -But Natasha would not give in. She turned everything out and began -quickly repacking, deciding that the inferior Russian carpets and -unnecessary crockery should not be taken at all. When everything had -been taken out of the cases, they recommenced packing, and it turned -out that when the cheaper things not worth taking had nearly all -been rejected, the valuable ones really did all go into the two cases. -Only the lid of the case containing the carpets would not shut down. A -few more things might have been taken out, but Natasha insisted on -having her own way. She packed, repacked, pressed, made the butler's -assistant and Petya- whom she had drawn into the business of -packing- press on the lid, and made desperate efforts herself. - -"That's enough, Natasha," said Sonya. "I see you were right, but -just take out the top one." - -"I won't!" cried Natasha, with one hand bolding back the hair that -hung over her perspiring face, while with the other she pressed down -the carpets. "Now press, Petya! Press, Vasilich, press hard!" she -cried. - -The carpets yielded and the lid closed; Natasha, clapping her hands, -screamed with delight and tears fell from her eyes. But this only -lasted a moment. She at once set to work afresh and they now trusted -her completely. The count was not angry even when they told him that -Natasha had countermanded an order of his, and the servants now came -to her to ask whether a cart was sufficiently loaded, and whether it -might be corded up. Thanks to Natasha's directions the work now went -on expeditiously, unnecessary things were left, and the most -valuable packed as compactly as possible. - -But hard as they all worked till quite late that night, they could -not get everything packed. The countess had fallen asleep and the -count, having put off their departure till next morning, went to bed. - -Sonya and Natasha slept in the sitting room without undressing. - -That night another wounded man was driven down the Povarskaya, and -Mavra Kuzminichna, who was standing at the gate, had him brought -into the Rostovs' yard. Mavra Kuzminichna concluded that he was a very -important man. He was being conveyed in a caleche with a raised -hood, and was quite covered by an apron. On the box beside the -driver sat a venerable old attendant. A doctor and two soldiers -followed the carriage in a cart. - -"Please come in here. The masters are going away and the whole house -will be empty," said the old woman to the old attendant. - -"Well, perhaps," said he with a sigh. "We don't expect to get him -home alive! We have a house of our own in Moscow, but it's a long -way from here, and there's nobody living in it." - -"Do us the honor to come in, there's plenty of everything in the -master's house. Come in," said Mavra Kuzminichna. "Is he very ill?" -she asked. - -The attendant made a hopeless gesture. - -"We don't expect to get him home! We must ask the doctor." - -And the old servant got down from the box and went up to the cart. - -"All right!" said the doctor. - -The old servant returned to the caleche, looked into it, shook his -head disconsolately, told the driver to turn into the yard, and -stopped beside Mavra Kuzminichna. - -"O, Lord Jesus Christ!" she murmured. - -She invited them to take the wounded man into the house. - -"The masters won't object..." she said. - -But they had to avoid carrying the man upstairs, and so they took -him into the wing and put him in the room that had been Madame -Schoss'. - -This wounded man was Prince Andrew Bolkonski. - -CHAPTER XV - -Moscow's last day had come. It was a clear bright autumn day, a -Sunday. The church bells everywhere were ringing for service, just -as usual on Sundays. Nobody seemed yet to realize what awaited the -city. - -Only two things indicated the social condition of Moscow- the -rabble, that is the poor people, and the price of commodities. An -enormous crowd of factory hands, house serfs, and peasants, with -whom some officials, seminarists, and gentry were mingled, had gone -early that morning to the Three Hills. Having waited there for -Rostopchin who did not turn up, they became convinced that Moscow -would be surrendered, and then dispersed all about the town to the -public houses and cookshops. Prices too that day indicated the state -of affairs. The price of weapons, of gold, of carts and horses, kept -rising, but the value of paper money and city articles kept falling, -so that by midday there were instances of carters removing valuable -goods, such as cloth, and receiving in payment a half of what they -carted, while peasant horses were fetching five hundred rubles each, -and furniture, mirrors, and bronzes were being given away for nothing. - -In the Rostovs' staid old-fashioned house the dissolution of -former conditions of life was but little noticeable. As to the serfs -the only indication was that three out of their huge retinue -disappeared during the night, but nothing was stolen; and as to the -value of their possessions, the thirty peasant carts that had come -in from their estates and which many people envied proved to be -extremely valuable and they were offered enormous sums of money for -them. Not only were huge sums offered for the horses and carts, but on -the previous evening and early in the morning of the first of -September, orderlies and servants sent by wounded officers came to the -Rostovs' and wounded men dragged themselves there from the Rostovs' -and from neighboring houses where they were accommodated, entreating -the servants to try to get them a lift out of Moscow. The major-domo -to whom these entreaties were addressed, though he was sorry for the -wounded, resolutely refused, saying that he dare not even mention -the matter to the count. Pity these wounded men as one might, it was -evident that if they were given one cart there would be no reason to -refuse another, or all the carts and one's own carriages as well. -Thirty carts could not save all the wounded and in the general -catastrophe one could not disregard oneself and one's own family. So -thought the major-domo on his master's behalf. - -On waking up that morning Count Ilya Rostov left his bedroom softly, -so as not to wake the countess who had fallen asleep only toward -morning, and came out to the porch in his lilac silk dressing gown. In -the yard stood the carts ready corded. The carriages were at the front -porch. The major-domo stood at the porch talking to an elderly orderly -and to a pale young officer with a bandaged arm. On seeing the count -the major-domo made a significant and stern gesture to them both to go -away. - -"Well, Vasilich, is everything ready?" asked the count, and stroking -his bald head he looked good-naturedly at the officer and the -orderly and nodded to them. (He liked to see new faces.) - -"We can harness at once, your excellency." - -"Well, that's right. As soon as the countess wakes we'll be off, God -willing! What is it, gentlemen?" he added, turning to the officer. -"Are you staying in my house?" - -The officer came nearer and suddenly his face flushed crimson. - -"Count, be so good as to allow me... for God's sake, to get into -some corner of one of your carts! I have nothing here with me.... I -shall be all right on a loaded cart..." - -Before the officer had finished speaking the orderly made the same -request on behalf of his master. - -"Oh, yes, yes,yes!" said the count hastily. "I shall be very -pleased, very pleased. Vasilich, you'll see to it. Just unload one -or two carts. Well, what of it... do what's necessary..." said the -count, muttering some indefinite order. - -But at the same moment an expression of warm gratitude on the -officer's face had already sealed the order. The count looked around -him. In the yard, at the gates, at the window of the wings, wounded -officers and their orderlies were to be seen. They were all looking at -the count and moving toward the porch. - -"Please step into the gallery, your excellency," said the -major-domo. "What are your orders about the pictures?" - -The count went into the house with him, repeating his order not to -refuse the wounded who asked for a lift. - -"Well, never mind, some of the things can be unloaded," he added -in a soft, confidential voice, as though afraid of being overheard. - -At nine o'clock the countess woke up, and Matrena Timofeevna, who -had been her lady's maid before her marriage and now performed a -sort of chief gendarme's duty for her, came to say that Madame -Schoss was much offended and the young ladies' summer dresses could -not be left behind. On inquiry, the countess learned that Madame -Schoss was offended because her trunk had been taken down from its -cart, and all the loads were being uncorded and the luggage taken -out of the carts to make room for wounded men whom the count in the -simplicity of his heart had ordered that they should take with them. -The countess sent for her husband. - -"What is this, my dear? I hear that the luggage is being unloaded." - -"You know, love, I wanted to tell you... Countess dear... an officer -came to me to ask for a few carts for the wounded. After all, ours are -things that can be bought but think what being left behind means to -them!... Really now, in our own yard- we asked them in ourselves and -there are officers among them.... You know, I think, my dear... let -them be taken... where's the hurry?" - -The count spoke timidly, as he always did when talking of money -matters. The countess was accustomed to this tone as a precursor of -news of something detrimental to the children's interests, such as the -building of a new gallery or conservatory, the inauguration of a -private theater or an orchestra. She was accustomed always to oppose -anything announced in that timid tone and considered it her duty to do -so. - -She assumed her dolefully submissive manner and said to her husband: -"Listen to me, Count, you have managed matters so that we are -getting nothing for the house, and now you wish to throw away all our- -all the children's property! You said yourself that we have a -hundred thousand rubles' worth of things in the house. I don't -consent, my dear, I don't! Do as you please! It's the government's -business to look after the wounded; they know that. Look at the -Lopukhins opposite, they cleared out everything two days ago. That's -what other people do. It's only we who are such fools. If you have -no pity on me, have some for the children." - -Flourishing his arms in despair the count left the room without -replying. - -"Papa, what are you doing that for?" asked Natasha, who had followed -him into her mother's room. - -"Nothing! What business is it of yours?" muttered the count angrily. - -"But I heard," said Natasha. "Why does Mamma object?" - -"What business is it of yours?" cried the count. - -Natasha stepped up to the window and pondered. - -"Papa! Here's Berg coming to see us," said she, looking out of the -window. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Berg, the Rostovs' son-in-law, was already a colonel wearing the -orders of Vladimir and Anna, and he still filled the quiet and -agreeable post of assistant to the head of the staff of the -assistant commander of the first division of the Second Army. - -On the first of September he had come to Moscow from the army. - -He had nothing to do in Moscow, but he had noticed that everyone -in the army was asking for leave to visit Moscow and had something -to do there. So he considered it necessary to ask for leave of absence -for family and domestic reasons. - -Berg drove up to his father-in-law's house in his spruce little trap -with a pair of sleek roans, exactly like those of a certain prince. He -looked attentively at the carts in the yard and while going up to -the porch took out a clean pocket handkerchief and tied a knot in it. - -From the anteroom Berg ran with smooth though impatient steps into -the drawing room, where he embraced the count, kissed the hands of -Natasha and Sonya, and hastened to inquire after "Mamma's" health. - -"Health, at a time like this?" said the count. "Come, tell us the -news! Is the army retreating or will there be another battle?" - -"God Almighty alone can decide the fate of our fatherland, Papa," -said Berg. "The army is burning with a spirit of heroism and the -leaders, so to say, have now assembled in council. No one knows what -is coming. But in general I can tell you, Papa, that such a heroic -spirit, the truly antique valor of the Russian army, which they- which -it" (he corrected himself) "has shown or displayed in the battle of -the twenty-sixth- there are no words worthy to do it justice! I tell -you, Papa" (he smote himself on the breast as a general he had heard -speaking had done, but Berg did it a trifle late for he should have -struck his breast at the words "Russian army"), "I tell you frankly -that we, the commanders, far from having to urge the men on or -anything of that kind, could hardly restrain those... those... yes, -those exploits of antique valor," he went on rapidly. "General Barclay -de Tolly risked his life everywhere at the head of the troops, I can -assure you. Our corps was stationed on a hillside. You can imagine!" - -And Berg related all that he remembered of the various tales he -had heard those days. Natasha watched him with an intent gaze that -confused him, as if she were trying to find in his face the answer -to some question. - -"Altogether such heroism as was displayed by the Russian warriors -cannot be imagined or adequately praised!" said Berg, glancing round -at Natasha, and as if anxious to conciliate her, replying to her -intent look with a smile. "'Russia is not in Moscow, she lives in -the hearts of her sons!' Isn't it so, Papa?" said he. - -Just then the countess came in from the sitting room with a weary -and dissatisfied expression. Berg hurriedly jumped up, kissed her -hand, asked about her health, and, swaying his head from side to -side to express sympathy, remained standing beside her. - -"Yes, Mamma, I tell you sincerely that these are hard and sad -times for every Russian. But why are you so anxious? You have still -time to get away...." - -"I can't think what the servants are about," said the countess, -turning to her husband. "I have just been told that nothing is ready -yet. Somebody after all must see to things. One misses Mitenka at such -times. There won't be any end to it." - -The count was about to say something, but evidently restrained -himself. He got up from his chair and went to the door. - -At that moment Berg drew out his handkerchief as if to blow his nose -and, seeing the knot in it, pondered, shaking his head sadly and -significantly. - -"And I have a great favor to ask of you, Papa," said he. - -"Hm..." said the count, and stopped. - -"I was driving past Yusupov's house just now," said Berg with a -laugh, "when the steward, a man I know, ran out and asked me whether I -wouldn't buy something. I went in out of curiosity, you know, and -there is a small chiffonier and a dressing table. You know how dear -Vera wanted a chiffonier like that and how we had a dispute about it." -(At the mention of the chiffonier and dressing table Berg -involuntarily changed his tone to one of pleasure at his admirable -domestic arrangements.) "And it's such a beauty! It pulls out and -has a secret English drawer, you know! And dear Vera has long wanted -one. I wish to give her a surprise, you see. I saw so many of those -peasant carts in your yard. Please let me have one, I will pay the man -well, and..." - -The count frowned and coughed. - -"Ask the countess, I don't give orders." - -"If it's inconvenient, please don't," said Berg. "Only I so wanted -it, for dear Vera's sake." - -"Oh, go to the devil, all of you! To the devil, the devil, the -devil..." cried the old count. "My head's in a whirl!" - -And he left the room. The countess began to cry. - -"Yes, Mamma! Yes, these are very hard times!" said Berg. - -Natasha left the room with her father and, as if finding it -difficult to reach some decision, first followed him and then ran -downstairs. - -Petya was in the porch, engaged in giving out weapons to the -servants who were to leave Moscow. The loaded carts were still -standing in the yard. Two of them had been uncorded and a wounded -officer was climbing into one of them helped by an orderly. - -"Do you know what it's about?" Petya asked Natasha. - -She understood that he meant what were their parents quarreling -about. She did not answer. - -"It's because Papa wanted to give up all the carts to the -wounded," said Petya. "Vasilich told me. I consider..." - -"I consider," Natasha suddenly almost shouted, turning her angry -face to Petya, "I consider it so horrid, so abominable, so... I -don't know what. Are we despicable Germans?" - -Her throat quivered with convulsive sobs and, afraid of weakening -and letting the force of her anger run to waste, she turned and rushed -headlong up the stairs. - -Berg was sitting beside the countess consoling her with the -respectful attention of a relative. The count, pipe in hand, was -pacing up and down the room, when Natasha, her face distorted by -anger, burst in like a tempest and approached her mother with rapid -steps. - -"It's horrid! It's abominable! she screamed. "You can't possibly -have ordered it!" - -Berg and the countess looked at her, perplexed and frightened. The -count stood still at the window and listened. - -"Mamma, it's impossible: see what is going on in the yard!" she -cried. "They will be left!..." - -"What's the matter with you? Who are 'they'? What do you want?" - -"Why, the wounded! It's impossible, Mamma. It's monstrous!... No, -Mamma darling, it's not the thing. Please forgive me, darling.... -Mamma, what does it matter what we take away? Only look what is -going on in the yard... Mamma!... It's impossible!" - -The count stood by the window and listened without turning round. -Suddenly he sniffed and put his face closer to the window. - -The countess glanced at her daughter, saw her face full of shame for -her mother, saw her agitation, and understood why her husband did -not turn to look at her now, and she glanced round quite disconcerted. - -"Oh, do as you like! Am I hindering anyone?" she said, not -surrendering at once. - -"Mamma, darling, forgive me!" - -But the countess pushed her daughter away and went up to her -husband. - -"My dear, you order what is right.... You know I don't understand -about it," said she, dropping her eyes shamefacedly. - -"The eggs... the eggs are teaching the hen," muttered the count -through tears of joy, and he embraced his wife who was glad to hide -her look of shame on his breast. - -"Papa! Mamma! May I see to it? May I?..." asked Natasha. "We will -still take all the most necessary things." - -The count nodded affirmatively, and Natasha, at the rapid pace at -which she used to run when playing at tag, ran through the ballroom to -the anteroom and downstairs into the yard. - -The servants gathered round Natasha, but could not believe the -strange order she brought them until the count himself, in his -wife's name, confirmed the order to give up all the carts to the -wounded and take the trunks to the storerooms. When they understood -that order the servants set to work at this new task with pleasure and -zeal. It no longer seemed strange to them but on the contrary it -seemed the only thing that could be done, just as a quarter of an hour -before it had not seemed strange to anyone that the wounded should -be left behind and the goods carted away but that had seemed the -only thing to do. - -The whole household, as if to atone for not having done it sooner, -set eagerly to work at the new task of placing the wounded in the -carts. The wounded dragged themselves out of their rooms and stood -with pale but happy faces round the carts. The news that carts were to -be had spread to the neighboring houses, from which wounded men -began to come into the Rostovs' yard. Many of the wounded asked them -not to unload the carts but only to let them sit on the top of the -things. But the work of unloading, once started, could not be -arrested. It seemed not to matter whether all or only half the -things were left behind. Cases full of china, bronzes, pictures, and -mirrors that had been so carefully packed the night before now lay -about the yard, and still they went on searching for and finding -possibilities of unloading this or that and letting the wounded have -another and yet another cart. - -"We can take four more men," said the steward. "They can have my -trap, or else what is to become of them?" - -"Let them have my wardrobe cart," said the countess. "Dunyasha can -go with me in the carriage." - -They unloaded the wardrobe cart and sent it to take wounded men from -a house two doors off. The whole household, servants included, was -bright and animated. Natasha was in a state of rapturous excitement -such as she had not known for a long time. - -"What could we fasten this onto?" asked the servants, trying to -fix a trunk on the narrow footboard behind a carriage. "We must keep -at least one cart." - -"What's in it?" asked Natasha. - -"The count's books." - -"Leave it, Vasilich will put it away. It's not wanted." - -The phaeton was full of people and there was a doubt as to where -Count Peter could sit. - -"On the box. You'll sit on the box, won't you, Petya?" cried -Natasha. - -Sonya too was busy all this time, but the aim of her efforts was -quite different from Natasha's. She was putting away the things that -had to be left behind and making a list of them as the countess -wished, and she tried to get as much taken away with them as possible. - -CHAPTER XVII - -Before two o'clock in the afternoon the Rostovs' four carriages, -packed full and with the horses harnessed, stood at the front door. -One by one the carts with the wounded had moved out of the yard. - -The caleche in which Prince Andrew was being taken attracted Sonya's -attention as it passed the front porch. With the help of a maid she -was arranging a seat for the countess in the huge high coach that -stood at the entrance. - -"Whose caleche is that?" she inquired, leaning out of the carriage -window. - -"Why, didn't you know, Miss?" replied the maid. "The wounded prince: -he spent the night in our house and is going with us." - -"But who is it? What's his name?" - -"It's our intended that was- Prince Bolkonski himself! They say he -is dying," replied the maid with a sigh. - -Sonya jumped out of the coach and ran to the countess. The countess, -tired out and already dressed in shawl and bonnet for her journey, was -pacing up and down the drawing room, waiting for the household to -assemble for the usual silent prayer with closed doors before -starting. Natasha was not in the room. - -"Mamma," said Sonya, "Prince Andrew is here, mortally wounded. He is -going with us." - -The countess opened her eyes in dismay and, seizing Sonya's arm, -glanced around. - -"Natasha?" she murmured. - -At that moment this news had only one significance for both of them. -They knew their Natasha, and alarm as to what would happen if she -heard this news stifled all sympathy for the man they both liked. - -"Natasha does not know yet, but he is going with us," said Sonya. - -"You say he is dying?" - -Sonya nodded. - -The countess put her arms around Sonya and began to cry. - -"The ways of God are past finding out!" she thought, feeling that -the Almighty Hand, hitherto unseen, was becoming manifest in all -that was now taking place. - -"Well, Mamma? Everything is ready. What's the matter?" asked -Natasha, as with animated face she ran into the room. - -"Nothing," answered the countess. "If everything is ready let us -start." - -And the countess bent over her reticule to hide her agitated face. -Sonya embraced Natasha and kissed her. - -Natasha looked at her inquiringly. - -"What is it? What has happened?" - -"Nothing... No..." - -"Is it something very bad for me? What is it?" persisted Natasha -with her quick intuition. - -Sonya sighed and made no reply. The count, Petya, Madame Schoss, -Mavra Kuzminichna, and Vasilich came into the drawing room and, having -closed the doors, they all sat down and remained for some moments -silently seated without looking at one another. - -The count was the first to rise, and with a loud sigh crossed -himself before the icon. All the others did the same. Then the count -embraced Mavra Kuzminichna and Vasilich, who were to remain in Moscow, -and while they caught at his hand and kissed his shoulder he patted -their backs lightly with some vaguely affectionate and comforting -words. The countess went into the oratory and there Sonya found her on -her knees before the icons that had been left here and there hanging -on the wall. (The most precious ones, with which some family tradition -was connected, were being taken with them.) - -In the porch and in the yard the men whom Petya had armed with -swords and daggers, with trousers tucked inside their high boots and -with belts and girdles tightened, were taking leave of those remaining -behind. - -As is always the case at a departure, much had been forgotten or put -in the wrong place, and for a long time two menservants stood one on -each side of the open door and the carriage steps waiting to help -the countess in, while maids rushed with cushions and bundles from the -house to the carriages, the caleche, the phaeton, and back again. - -"They always will forget everything!" said the countess. "Don't -you know I can't sit like that?" - -And Dunyasha, with clenched teeth, without replying but with an -aggrieved look on her face, hastily got into the coach to rearrange -the seat. - -"Oh, those servants!" said the count, swaying his head. - -Efim, the old coachman, who was the only one the countess trusted to -drive her, sat perched up high on the box and did not so much as -glance round at what was going on behind him. From thirty years' -experience he knew it would be some time yet before the order, "Be -off, in God's name!" would be given him: and he knew that even when it -was said he would be stopped once or twice more while they sent back -to fetch something that had been forgotten, and even after that he -would again be stopped and the countess herself would lean out of -the window and beg him for the love of heaven to drive carefully -down the hill. He knew all this and therefore waited calmly for what -would happen, with more patience than the horses, especially the -near one, the chestnut Falcon, who was pawing the ground and -champing his bit. At last all were seated, the carriage steps were -folded and pulled up, the door was shut, somebody was sent for a -traveling case, and the countess leaned out and said what she had to -say. Then Efim deliberately doffed his hat and began crossing himself. -The postilion and all the other servants did the same. "Off, in -God's name!" said Efim, putting on his hat. "Start!" The postilion -started the horses, the off pole horse tugged at his collar, the -high springs creaked, and the body of the coach swayed. The footman -sprang onto the box of the moving coach which jolted as it passed -out of the yard onto the uneven roadway; the other vehicles jolted -in their turn, and the procession of carriages moved up the street. In -the carriages, the caleche, and the phaeton, all crossed themselves as -they passed the church opposite the house. Those who were to remain in -Moscow walked on either side of the vehicles seeing the travelers off. - -Rarely had Natasha experienced so joyful a feeling as now, sitting -in the carriage beside the countess and gazing at the slowly -receding walls of forsaken, agitated Moscow. Occasionally she leaned -out of the carriage window and looked back and then forward at the -long train of wounded in front of them. Almost at the head of the line -she could see the raised hood of Prince Andrew's caleche. She did -not know who was in it, but each time she looked at the procession her -eyes sought that caleche. She knew it was right in front. - -In Kudrino, from the Nikitski, Presnya, and Podnovinsk Streets -came several other trains of vehicles similar to the Rostovs', and -as they passed along the Sadovaya Street the carriages and carts -formed two rows abreast. - -As they were going round the Sukharev water tower Natasha, who was -inquisitively and alertly scrutinizing the people driving or walking -past, suddenly cried out in joyful surprise: - -"Dear me! Mamma, Sonya, look, it's he!" - -"Who? Who?" - -"Look! Yes, on my word, it's Bezukhov!" said Natasha, putting her -head out of the carriage and staring at a tall, stout man in a -coachman's long coat, who from his manner of walking and moving was -evidently a gentleman in disguise, and who was passing under the -arch of the Sukharev tower accompanied by a small, sallow-faced, -beardless old man in a frieze coat. - -"Yes, it really is Bezukhov in a coachman's coat, with a -queer-looking old boy. Really," said Natasha, "look, look!" - -"No, it's not he. How can you talk such nonsense?" - -"Mamma," screamed Natasha, "I'll stake my head it's he! I assure -you! Stop, stop!" she cried to the coachman. - -But the coachman could not stop, for from the Meshchanski Street -came more carts and carriages, and the Rostovs were being shouted at -to move on and not block the way. - -In fact, however, though now much farther off than before, the -Rostovs all saw Pierre- or someone extraordinarily like him- in a -coachman's coat, going down the street with head bent and a serious -face beside a small, beardless old man who looked like a footman. That -old man noticed a face thrust out of the carriage window gazing at -them, and respectfully touching Pierre's elbow said something to him -and pointed to the carriage. Pierre, evidently engrossed in thought, -could not at first understand him. At length when he had understood -and looked in the direction the old man indicated, he recognized -Natasha, and following his first impulse stepped instantly and rapidly -toward the coach. But having taken a dozen steps he seemed to remember -something and stopped. - -Natasha's face, leaning out of the window, beamed with quizzical -kindliness. - -"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you! This is -wonderful!" she cried, holding out her hand to him. "What are you -doing? Why are you like this?" - -Pierre took her outstretched hand and kissed it awkwardly as he -walked along beside her while the coach still moved on. - -"What is the matter, Count?" asked the countess in a surprised and -commiserating tone. - -"What? What? Why? Don't ask me," said Pierre, and looked round at -Natasha whose radiant, happy expression- of which he was conscious -without looking at her- filled him with enchantment. - -"Are you remaining in Moscow, then?" - -Pierre hesitated. - -"In Moscow?" he said in a questioning tone. "Yes, in Moscow. -Goodby!" - -"Ah, if only I were a man? I'd certainly stay with you. How -splendid!" said Natasha. "Mamma, if you'll let me, I'll stay!" - -Pierre glanced absently at Natasha and was about to say something, -but the countess interrupted him. - -"You were at the battle, we heard." - -"Yes, I was," Pierre answered. "There will be another battle -tomorrow..." he began, but Natasha interrupted him. - -"But what is the matter with you, Count? You are not like -yourself...." - -"Oh, don't ask me, don't ask me! I don't know myself. Tomorrow... -But no! Good-by, good-by!" he muttered. "It's an awful time!" and -dropping behind the carriage he stepped onto the pavement. - -Natasha continued to lean out of the window for a long time, beaming -at him with her kindly, slightly quizzical, happy smile. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -For the last two days, ever since leaving home, Pierre had been -living in the empty house of his deceased benefactor, Bazdeev. This is -how it happened. - -When he woke up on the morning after his return to Moscow and his -interview with Count Rostopchin, he could not for some time make out -where he was and what was expected of him. When he was informed that -among others awaiting him in his reception room there was a -Frenchman who had brought a letter from his wife, the Countess Helene, -he felt suddenly overcome by that sense of confusion and -hopelessness to which he was apt to succumb. He felt that everything -was now at an end, all was in confusion and crumbling to pieces, -that nobody was right or wrong, the future held nothing, and there was -no escape from this position. Smiling unnaturally and muttering to -himself, he first sat down on the sofa in an attitude of despair, then -rose, went to the door of the reception room and peeped through the -crack, returned flourishing his arms, and took up a book. His -major-domo came in a second time to say that the Frenchman who had -brought the letter from the countess was very anxious to see him if -only for a minute, and that someone from Bazdeev's widow had called to -ask Pierre to take charge of her husband's books, as she herself was -leaving for the country. - -"Oh, yes, in a minute; wait... or no! No, of course... go and say -I will come directly," Pierre replied to the major-domo. - -But as soon as the man had left the room Pierre took up his hat -which was lying on the table and went out of his study by the other -door. There was no one in the passage. He went along the whole -length of this passage to the stairs and, frowning and rubbing his -forehead with both hands, went down as far as the first landing. The -hall porter was standing at the front door. From the landing where -Pierre stood there was a second staircase leading to the back -entrance. He went down that staircase and out into the yard. No one -had seen him. But there were some carriages waiting, and as soon as -Pierre stepped out of the gate the coachmen and the yard porter -noticed him and raised their caps to him. When he felt he was being -looked at he behaved like an ostrich which hides its head in a bush in -order not to be seen: he hung his head and quickening his pace went -down the street. - -Of all the affairs awaiting Pierre that day the sorting of Joseph -Bazdeev's books and papers appeared to him the most necessary. - -He hired the first cab he met and told the driver to go to the -Patriarch's Ponds, where the widow Bazdeev's house was. - -Continually turning round to look at the rows of loaded carts that -were making their way from all sides out of Moscow, and balancing -his bulky body so as not to slip out of the ramshackle old vehicle, -Pierre, experiencing the joyful feeling of a boy escaping from school, -began to talk to his driver. - -The man told him that arms were being distributed today at the -Kremlin and that tomorrow everyone would be sent out beyond the -Three Hills gates and a great battle would be fought there. - -Having reached the Patriarch's Ponds Pierre found the Bazdeevs' -house, where he had not been for a long time past. He went up to the -gate. Gerasim, that sallow beardless old man Pierre had seen at -Torzhok five years before with Joseph Bazdeev, came out in answer to -his knock. - -"At home?" asked Pierre. - -"Owing to the present state of things Sophia Danilovna has gone to -the Torzhok estate with the children, your excellency." - -"I will come in all the same, I have to look through the books," -said Pierre. - -"Be so good as to step in. Makar Alexeevich, the brother of my -late master- may the kingdom of heaven be his- has remained here, -but he is in a weak state as you know," said the old servant. - -Pierre knew that Makar Alexeevich was Joseph Bazdeev's half-insane -brother and a hard drinker. - -"Yes, yes, I know. Let us go in..." said Pierre and entered the -house. - -A tall, bald-headed old man with a red nose, wearing a dressing gown -and with galoshes on his bare feet, stood in the anteroom. On seeing -Pierre he muttered something angrily and went away along the passage. - -"He was a very clever man but has now grown quite feeble, as your -honor sees," said Gerasim. "Will you step into the study?" Pierre -nodded. "As it was sealed up so it has remained, but Sophia -Danilovna gave orders that if anyone should come from you they were to -have the books." - -Pierre went into that gloomy study which he had entered with such -trepidation in his benefactor's lifetime. The room, dusty and -untouched since the death of Joseph Bazdeev was now even gloomier. - -Gerasim opened one of the shutters and left the room on tiptoe. -Pierre went round the study, approached the cupboard in which the -manuscripts were kept, and took out what had once been one of the most -important, the holy of holies of the order. This was the authentic -Scotch Acts with Bazdeev's notes and explanations. He sat down at -the dusty writing table, and, having laid the manuscripts before -him, opened them out, closed them, finally pushed them away, and -resting his head on his hand sank into meditation. - -Gerasim looked cautiously into the study several times and saw -Pierre always sitting in the same attitude. - -More than two hours passed and Gerasim took the liberty of making -a slight noise at the door to attract his attention, but Pierre did -not hear him. - -"Is the cabman to be discharged, your honor?" - -"Oh yes!" said Pierre, rousing himself and rising hurriedly. "Look -here," he added, taking Gerasim by a button of his coat and looking -down at the old man with moist, shining, and ecstatic eyes, "I say, do -you know that there is going to be a battle tomorrow?" - -"We heard so," replied the man. - -"I beg you not to tell anyone who I am, and to do what I ask you." - -"Yes, your excellency," replied Gerasim. "Will you have something to -eat?" - -"No, but I want something else. I want peasant clothes and a -pistol," said Pierre, unexpectedly blushing. - -"Yes, your excellency," said Gerasim after thinking for a moment. - -All the rest of that day Pierre spent alone in his benefactor's -study, and Gerasim heard him pacing restlessly from one corner to -another and talking to himself. And he spent the night on a bed made -up for him there. - -Gerasim, being a servant who in his time had seen many strange -things, accepted Pierre's taking up his residence in the house without -surprise, and seemed pleased to have someone to wait on. That same -evening- without even asking himself what they were wanted for- he -procured a coachman's coat and cap for Pierre, and promised to get him -the pistol next day. Makar Alexeevich came twice that evening -shuffling along in his galoshes as far as the door and stopped and -looked ingratiatingly at Pierre. But as soon as Pierre turned toward -him he wrapped his dressing gown around him with a shamefaced and -angry look and hurried away. It was when Pierre (wearing the -coachman's coat which Gerasim had procured for him and had disinfected -by steam) was on his way with the old man to buy the pistol at the -Sukharev market that he met the Rostovs. - -CHAPTER XIX - -Kutuzov's order to retreat through Moscow to the Ryazan road was -issued at night on the first of September. - -The first troops started at once, and during the night they -marched slowly and steadily without hurry. At daybreak, however, those -nearing the town at the Dorogomilov bridge saw ahead of them masses of -soldiers crowding and hurrying across the bridge, ascending on the -opposite side and blocking the streets and alleys, while endless -masses of troops were bearing down on them from behind, and an -unreasoning hurry and alarm overcame them. They all rushed forward -to the bridge, onto it, and to the fords and the boats. Kutuzov -himself had driven round by side streets to the other side of Moscow. - -By ten o'clock in the morning of the second of September, only the -rear guard remained in the Dorogomilov suburb, where they had ample -room. The main army was on the other side of Moscow or beyond it. - -At that very time, at ten in the morning of the second of September, -Napoleon was standing among his troops on the Poklonny Hill looking at -the panorama spread out before him. From the twenty-sixth of August to -the second of September, that is from the battle of Borodino to the -entry of the French into Moscow, during the whole of that agitating, -memorable week, there had been the extraordinary autumn weather that -always comes as a surprise, when the sun hangs low and gives more heat -than in spring, when everything shines so brightly in the rare clear -atmosphere that the eyes smart, when the lungs are strengthened and -refreshed by inhaling the aromatic autumn air, when even the nights -are warm, and when in those dark warm nights, golden stars startle and -delight us continually by falling from the sky. - -At ten in the morning of the second of September this weather -still held. - -The brightness of the morning was magical. Moscow seen from the -Poklonny Hill lay spaciously spread out with her river, her gardens, -and her churches, and she seemed to be living her usual life, her -cupolas glittering like stars in the sunlight. - -The view of the strange city with its peculiar architecture, such as -he had never seen before, filled Napoleon with the rather envious -and uneasy curiosity men feel when they see an alien form of life that -has no knowledge of them. This city was evidently living with the full -force of its own life. By the indefinite signs which, even at a -distance, distinguish a living body from a dead one, Napoleon from the -Poklonny Hill perceived the throb of life in the town and felt, as -it were, the breathing of that great and beautiful body. - -Every Russian looking at Moscow feels her to be a mother; every -foreigner who sees her, even if ignorant of her significance as the -mother city, must feel her feminine character, and Napoleon felt it. - -"Cette ville asiatique aux innombrables eglises, Moscou la sainte. -La voila done enfin, cette fameuse ville! Il etait temps,"~{ "That Asiatic city of the innumerable churches, holy Moscow! Here -it is then at last, that famous city. It was high time." }~ said he, -and dismounting he ordered a plan of Moscow to be spread out before -him, and summoned Lelorgne d'Ideville, the interpreter. - -"A town captured by the enemy is like a maid who has lost her -honor," thought he (he had said so to Tuchkov at Smolensk). From -that point of view he gazed at the Oriental beauty he had not seen -before. It seemed strange to him that his long-felt wish, which had -seemed unattainable, had at last been realized. In the clear morning -light he gazed now at the city and now at the plan, considering its -details, and the assurance of possessing it agitated and awed him. - -"But could it be otherwise?" he thought. "Here is this capital at my -feet. Where is Alexander now, and of what is he thinking? A strange, -beautiful, and majestic city; and a strange and majestic moment! In -what light must I appear to them!" thought he, thinking of his troops. -"Here she is, the reward for all those fainthearted men," he -reflected, glancing at those near him and at the troops who were -approaching and forming up. "One word from me, one movement of my -hand, and that ancient capital of the Tsars would perish. But my -clemency is always ready to descend upon the vanquished. I must be -magnanimous and truly great. But no, it can't be true that I am in -Moscow," he suddenly thought. "Yet here she is lying at my feet, -with her golden domes and crosses scintillating and twinkling in the -sunshine. But I shall spare her. On the ancient monuments of barbarism -and despotism I will inscribe great words of justice and mercy.... -It is just this which Alexander will feel most painfully, I know him." -(It seemed to Napoleon that the chief import of what was taking -place lay in the personal struggle between himself and Alexander.) -"From the height of the Kremlin- yes, there is the Kremlin, yes- I -will give them just laws; I will teach them the meaning of true -civilization, I will make generations of boyars remember their -conqueror with love. I will tell the deputation that I did not, and do -not, desire war, that I have waged war only against the false policy -of their court; that I love and respect Alexander and that in Moscow I -will accept terms of peace worthy of myself and of my people. I do not -wish to utilize the fortunes of war to humiliate an honored monarch. -'Boyars,' I will say to them, 'I do not desire war, I desire the peace -and welfare of all my subjects.' However, I know their presence will -inspire me, and I shall speak to them as I always do: clearly, -impressively, and majestically. But can it be true that I am in -Moscow? Yes, there she lies." - -"Qu'on m'amene les boyars,"~{ "Bring the boyars to me." }~ said he to his suite. - -A general with a brilliant suite galloped off at once to fetch the -boyars. - -Two hours passed. Napoleon had lunched and was again standing in the -same place on the Poklonny Hill awaiting the deputation. His speech to -the boyars had already taken definite shape in his imagination. That -speech was full of dignity and greatness as Napoleon understood it. - -He was himself carried away by the tone of magnanimity he intended -to adopt toward Moscow. In his imagination he appointed days for -assemblies at the palace of the Tsars, at which Russian notables and -his own would mingle. He mentally appointed a governor, one who -would win the hearts of the people. Having learned that there were -many charitable institutions in Moscow he mentally decided that he -would shower favors on them all. He thought that, as in Africa he -had to put on a burnoose and sit in a mosque, so in Moscow he must -be beneficent like the Tsars. And in order finally to touch the hearts -of the Russians- and being like all Frenchmen unable to imagine -anything sentimental without a reference to ma chere, ma tendre, ma -pauvre mere~{ "My dear, my tender, my poor mother." }~ - he decided that he would place an inscription on all -these establishments in large letters: "This establishment is -dedicated to my dear mother." Or no, it should be simply: Maison de ma -Mere,~{ "House of my Mother." }~ he concluded. "But am I really in Moscow? Yes, here it -lies before me, but why is the deputation from the city so long in -appearing?" he wondered. - -Meanwhile an agitated consultation was being carried on in -whispers among his generals and marshals at the rear of his suite. -Those sent to fetch the deputation had returned with the news that -Moscow was empty, that everyone had left it. The faces of those who -were not conferring together were pale and perturbed. They were not -alarmed by the fact that Moscow had been abandoned by its -inhabitants (grave as that fact seemed), but by the question how to -tell the Emperor- without putting him in the terrible position of -appearing ridiculous- that he had been awaiting the boyars so long -in vain: that there were drunken mobs left in Moscow but no one -else. Some said that a deputation of some sort must be scraped -together, others disputed that opinion and maintained that the Emperor -should first be carefully and skillfully prepared, and then told the -truth. - -"He will have to be told, all the same," said some gentlemen of -the suite. "But, gentlemen..." - -The position was the more awkward because the Emperor, meditating -upon his magnanimous plans, was pacing patiently up and down before -the outspread map, occasionally glancing along the road to Moscow from -under his lifted hand with a bright and proud smile. - -"But it's impossible..." declared the gentlemen of the suite, -shrugging their shoulders but not venturing to utter the implied word- -le ridicule... - -At last the Emperor, tired of futile expectation, his actor's -instinct suggesting to him that the sublime moment having been too -long drawn out was beginning to lose its sublimity, gave a sign with -his hand. A single report of a signaling gun followed, and the troops, -who were already spread out on different sides of Moscow, moved into -the city through Tver, Kaluga, and Dorogomilov gates. Faster and -faster, vying with one another, they moved at the double or at a trot, -vanishing amid the clouds of dust they raised and making the air -ring with a deafening roar of mingling shouts. - -Drawn on by the movement of his troops Napoleon rode with them as -far as the Dorogomilov gate, but there again stopped and, -dismounting from his horse, paced for a long time by the -Kammer-Kollezski rampart, awaiting the deputation. - -CHAPTER XX - -Meanwhile Moscow was empty. There were still people in it, perhaps a -fiftieth part of its former inhabitants had remained, but it was -empty. It was empty in the sense that a dying queenless hive is empty. - -In a queenless hive no life is left though to a superficial glance -it seems as much alive as other hives. - -The bees circle round a queenless hive in the hot beams of the -midday sun as gaily as around the living hives; from a distance it -smells of honey like the others, and bees fly in and out in the same -way. But one has only to observe that hive to realize that there is no -longer any life in it. The bees do not fly in the same way, the -smell and the sound that meet the beekeeper are not the same. To the -beekeeper's tap on the wall of the sick hive, instead of the former -instant unanimous humming of tens of thousands of bees with their -abdomens threateningly compressed, and producing by the rapid -vibration of their wings an aerial living sound, the only reply is a -disconnected buzzing from different parts of the deserted hive. From -the alighting board, instead of the former spirituous fragrant smell -of honey and venom, and the warm whiffs of crowded life, comes an odor -of emptiness and decay mingling with the smell of honey. There are -no longer sentinels sounding the alarm with their abdomens raised, and -ready to die in defense of the hive. There is no longer the measured -quiet sound of throbbing activity, like the sound of boiling water, -but diverse discordant sounds of disorder. In and out of the hive long -black robber bees smeared with honey fly timidly and shiftily. They do -not sting, but crawl away from danger. Formerly only bees laden with -honey flew into the hive, and they flew out empty; now they fly out -laden. The beekeeper opens the lower part of the hive and peers in. -Instead of black, glossy bees- tamed by toil, clinging to one -another's legs and drawing out the wax, with a ceaseless hum of labor- -that used to hang in long clusters down to the floor of the hive, -drowsy shriveled bees crawl about separately in various directions -on the floor and walls of the hive. Instead of a neatly glued floor, -swept by the bees with the fanning of their wings, there is a floor -littered with bits of wax, excrement, dying bees scarcely moving their -legs, and dead ones that have not been cleared away. - -The beekeeper opens the upper part of the hive and examines the -super. Instead of serried rows of bees sealing up every gap in the -combs and keeping the brood warm, he sees the skillful complex -structures of the combs, but no longer in their former state of -purity. All is neglected and foul. Black robber bees are swiftly and -stealthily prowling about the combs, and the short home bees, -shriveled and listless as if they were old, creep slowly about without -trying to hinder the robbers, having lost all motive and all sense -of life. Drones, bumblebees, wasps, and butterflies knock awkwardly -against the walls of the hive in their flight. Here and there among -the cells containing dead brood and honey an angry buzzing can -sometimes be heard. Here and there a couple of bees, by force of habit -and custom cleaning out the brood cells, with efforts beyond their -strength laboriously drag away a dead bee or bumblebee without knowing -why they do it. In another corner two old bees are languidly fighting, -or cleaning themselves, or feeding one another, without themselves -knowing whether they do it with friendly or hostile intent. In a third -place a crowd of bees, crushing one another, attack some victim and -fight and smother it, and the victim, enfeebled or killed, drops -from above slowly and lightly as a feather, among the heap of corpses. -The keeper opens the two center partitions to examine the brood cells. -In place of the former close dark circles formed by thousands of -bees sitting back to back and guarding the high mystery of generation, -he sees hundreds of dull, listless, and sleepy shells of bees. They -have almost all died unawares, sitting in the sanctuary they had -guarded and which is now no more. They reek of decay and death. Only a -few of them still move, rise, and feebly fly to settle on the -enemy's hand, lacking the spirit to die stinging him; the rest are -dead and fall as lightly as fish scales. The beekeeper closes the -hive, chalks a mark on it, and when he has time tears out its contents -and burns it clean. - -So in the same way Moscow was empty when Napoleon, weary, uneasy, -and morose, paced up and down in front of the Kammer-Kollezski -rampart, awaiting what to his mind was a necessary, if but formal, -observance of the proprieties- a deputation. - -In various corners of Moscow there still remained a few people -aimlessly moving about, following their old habits and hardly aware of -what they were doing. - -When with due circumspection Napoleon was informed that Moscow was -empty, he looked angrily at his informant, turned away, and silently -continued to walk to and fro. - -"My carriage!" he said. - -He took his seat beside the aide-de-camp on duty and drove into -the suburb. "Moscow deserted!" he said to himself. "What an incredible -event!" - -He did not drive into the town, but put up at an inn in the -Dorogomilov suburb. - -The coup de theatre had not come off. - -CHAPTER XXI - -The Russian troops were passing through Moscow from two o'clock at -night till two in the afternoon and bore away with them the wounded -and the last of the inhabitants who were leaving. - -The greatest crush during the movement of the troops took place at -the Stone, Moskva, and Yauza bridges. - -While the troops, dividing into two parts when passing around the -Kremlin, were thronging the Moskva and the Stone bridges, a great many -soldiers, taking advantage of the stoppage and congestion, turned back -from the bridges and slipped stealthily and silently past the church -of Vasili the Beatified and under the Borovitski gate, back up the -hill to the Red Square where some instinct told them they could easily -take things not belonging to them. Crowds of the kind seen at cheap -sales filled all the passages and alleys of the Bazaar. But there were -no dealers with voices of ingratiating affability inviting customers -to enter; there were no hawkers, nor the usual motley crowd of -female purchasers- but only soldiers, in uniforms and overcoats though -without muskets, entering the Bazaar empty-handed and silently -making their way out through its passages with bundles. Tradesmen -and their assistants (of whom there were but few) moved about among -the soldiers quite bewildered. They unlocked their shops and locked -them up again, and themselves carried goods away with the help their -assistants. On the square in front of the Bazaar were drummers beating -the muster call. But the roll of the drums did not make the looting -soldiers run in the direction of the drum as formerly, but made -them, on the contrary, run farther away. Among the soldiers in the -shops and passages some men were to be seen in gray coats, with -closely shaven heads. Two officers, one with a scarf over his -uniform and mounted on a lean, dark-gray horse, the other in an -overcoat and on foot, stood at the corner of Ilyinka Street, -talking. A third officer galloped up to them. - -"The general orders them all to be driven out at once, without fail. -This is outrageous! Half the men have dispersed." - -"Where are you off to?... Where?..." he shouted to three infantrymen -without muskets who, holding up the skirts of their overcoats, were -slipping past him into the Bazaar passage. "Stop, you rascals!" - -"But how are you going to stop them?" replied another officer. -"There is no getting them together. The army should push on before the -rest bolt, that's all!" - -"How can one push on? They are stuck there, wedged on the bridge, -and don't move. Shouldn't we put a cordon round to prevent the rest -from running away?" - -"Come, go in there and drive them out!" shouted the senior officer. - -The officer in the scarf dismounted, called up a drummer, and went -with him into the arcade. Some soldiers started running away in a -group. A shopkeeper with red pimples on his cheeks near the nose, -and a calm, persistent, calculating expression on his plump face, -hurriedly and ostentatiously approached the officer, swinging his -arms. - -"Your honor!" said he. "Be so good as to protect us! We won't grudge -trifles, you are welcome to anything- we shall be delighted! -Pray!... I'll fetch a piece of cloth at once for such an honorable -gentleman, or even two pieces with pleasure. For we feel how it is; -but what's all this- sheer robbery! If you please, could not guards be -placed if only to let us close the shop...." - -Several shopkeepers crowded round the officer. - -"Eh, what twaddle!" said one of them, a thin, stern-looking man. -"When one's head is gone one doesn't weep for one's hair! Take what -any of you like!" And flourishing his arm energetically he turned -sideways to the officer. - -"It's all very well for you, Ivan Sidorych, to talk," said the first -tradesman angrily. "Please step inside, your honor!" - -"Talk indeed!" cried the thin one. "In my three shops here I have -a hundred thousand rubles' worth of goods. Can they be saved when -the army has gone? Eh, what people! 'Against God's might our hands -can't fight.'" - -"Come inside, your honor!" repeated the tradesman, bowing. - -The officer stood perplexed and his face showed indecision. - -"It's not my business!" he exclaimed, and strode on quickly down one -of the passages. - -From one open shop came the sound of blows and vituperation, and -just as the officer came up to it a man in a gray coat with a shaven -head was flung out violently. - -This man, bent double, rushed past the tradesman and the officer. -The officer pounced on the soldiers who were in the shops, but at that -moment fearful screams reached them from the huge crowd on the -Moskva bridge and the officer ran out into the square. - -"What is it? What is it?" he asked, but his comrade was already -galloping off past Vasili the Beatified in the direction from which -the screams came. - -The officer mounted his horse and rode after him. When he reached -the bridge he saw two unlimbered guns, the infantry crossing the -bridge, several overturned carts, and frightened and laughing faces -among the troops. Beside the cannon a cart was standing to which two -horses were harnessed. Four borzois with collars were pressing close -to the wheels. The cart was loaded high, and at the very top, beside a -child's chair with its legs in the air, sat a peasant woman uttering -piercing and desperate shrieks. He was told by his fellow officers -that the screams of the crowd and the shrieks of the woman were due to -the fact that General Ermolov, coming up to the crowd and learning -that soldiers were dispersing among the shops while crowds of -civilians blocked the bridge, had ordered two guns to be unlimbered -and made a show of firing at the bridge. The crowd, crushing one -another, upsetting carts, and shouting and squeezing desperately, -had cleared off the bridge and the troops were now moving forward. - -CHAPTER XXII - -Meanwhile, the city itself was deserted. There was hardly anyone -in the streets. The gates and shops were all closed, only here and -there round the taverns solitary shouts or drunken songs could be -heard. Nobody drove through the streets and footsteps were rarely -heard. The Povarskaya was quite still and deserted. The huge courtyard -of the Rostovs' house was littered with wisps of hay and with dung -from the horses, and not a soul was to be seen there. In the great -drawing room of the house, which had been left with all it -contained, were two people. They were the yard porter Ignat, and the -page boy Mishka, Vasilich's grandson who had stayed in Moscow with his -grandfather. Mishka had opened the clavichord and was strumming on -it with one finger. The yard porter, his arms akimbo, stood smiling -with satisfaction before the large mirror. - -"Isn't it fine, eh, Uncle Ignat?" said the boy, suddenly beginning -to strike the keyboard with both hands. - -"Only fancy!" answered Ignat, surprised at the broadening grin on -his face in the mirror. - -"Impudence! Impudence!" they heard behind them the voice of Mavra -Kuzminichna who had entered silently. "How he's grinning, the fat mug! -Is that what you're here for? Nothing's cleared away down there and -Vasilich is worn out. Just you wait a bit!" - -Ignat left off smiling, adjusted his belt, and went out of the -room with meekly downcast eyes. - -"Aunt, I did it gently," said the boy. - -"I'll give you something gently, you monkey you!" cried Mavra -Kuzminichna, raising her arm threateningly. "Go and get the samovar to -boil for your grandfather." - -Mavra Kuzminichna flicked the dust off the clavichord and closed it, -and with a deep sigh left the drawing room and locked its main door. - -Going out into the yard she paused to consider where she should go -next- to drink tea in the servants' wing with Vasilich, or into the -storeroom to put away what still lay about. - -She heard the sound of quick footsteps in the quiet street. -Someone stopped at the gate, and the latch rattled as someone tried to -open it. Mavra Kuzminichna went to the gate. - -"Who do you want?" - -"The count- Count Ilya Andreevich Rostov." - -"And who are you?" - -"An officer, I have to see him," came the reply in a pleasant, -well-bred Russian voice. - -Mavra Kuzminichna opened the gate and an officer of eighteen, with -the round face of a Rostov, entered the yard. - -"They have gone away, sir. Went away yesterday at vespertime," -said Mavra Kuzminichna cordially. - -The young officer standing in the gateway, as if hesitating -whether to enter or not, clicked his tongue. - -"Ah, how annoying!" he muttered. "I should have come yesterday.... -Ah, what a pity." - -Meanwhile, Mavra Kuzminichna was attentively and sympathetically -examining the familiar Rostov features of the young man's face, his -tattered coat and trodden-down boots. - -"What did you want to see the count for?" she asked. - -"Oh well... it can't be helped!" said he in a tone of vexation and -placed his hand on the gate as if to leave. - -He again paused in indecision. - -"You see," he suddenly said, "I am a kinsman of the count's and he -has been very kind to me. As you see" (he glanced with an amused air -and good-natured smile at his coat and boots) "my things are worn -out and I have no money, so I was going to ask the count..." - -Mavra Kuzminichna did not let him finish. - -"Just wait a minute, sir. One little moment," said she. - -And as soon as the officer let go of the gate handle she turned and, -hurrying away on her old legs, went through the back yard to the -servants' quarters. - -While Mavra Kuzminichna was running to her room the officer walked -about the yard gazing at his worn-out boots with lowered head and a -faint smile on his lips. "What a pity I've missed Uncle! What a nice -old woman! Where has she run off to? And how am I to find the -nearest way to overtake my regiment, which must by now be getting near -the Rogozhski gate?" thought he. Just then Mavra Kuzminichna -appeared from behind the corner of the house with a frightened yet -resolute look, carrying a rolled-up check kerchief in her hand. -While still a few steps from the officer she unfolded the kerchief and -took out of it a white twenty-five-ruble assignat and hastily handed -it to him. - -"If his excellency had been at home, as a kinsman he would of -course... but as it is..." - -Mavra Kuzminichna grew abashed and confused. The officer did not -decline, but took the note quietly and thanked her. - -"If the count had been at home..." Mavra Kuzminichna went on -apologetically. "Christ be with you, sir! May God preserve you!" -said she, bowing as she saw him out. - -Swaying his head and smiling as if amused at himself, the officer -ran almost at a trot through the deserted streets toward the Yauza -bridge to overtake his regiment. - -But Mavra Kuzminichna stood at the closed gate for some time with -moist eyes, pensively swaying her head and feeling an unexpected -flow of motherly tenderness and pity for the unknown young officer. - -CHAPTER XXIII - -From an unfinished house on the Varvarka, the ground floor of -which was a dramshop, came drunken shouts and songs. On benches -round the tables in a dirty little room sat some ten factory hands. -Tipsy and perspiring, with dim eyes and wide-open mouths, they were -all laboriously singing some song or other. They were singing -discordantly, arduously, and with great effort, evidently not -because they wished to sing, but because they wanted to show they were -drunk and on a spree. One, a tall, fair-haired lad in a clean blue -coat, was standing over the others. His face with its fine straight -nose would have been handsome had it not been for his thin, -compressed, twitching lips and dull, gloomy, fixed eyes. Evidently -possessed by some idea, he stood over those who were singing, and -solemnly and jerkily flourished above their heads his white arm with -the sleeve turned up to the elbow, trying unnaturally to spread out -his dirty fingers. The sleeve of his coat kept slipping down and he -always carefully rolled it up again with his left hand, as if it -were most important that the sinewy white arm he was flourishing -should be bare. In the midst of the song cries were heard, and -fighting and blows in the passage and porch. The tall lad waved his -arm. - -"Stop it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "There's a fight, lads!" -And, still rolling up his sleeve, he went out to the porch. - -The factory hands followed him. These men, who under the -leadership of the tall lad were drinking in the dramshop that morning, -had brought the publican some skins from the factory and for this -had had drink served them. The blacksmiths from a neighboring -smithy, hearing the sounds of revelry in the tavern and supposing it -to have been broken into, wished to force their way in too and a fight -in the porch had resulted. - -The publican was fighting one of the smiths at the door, and when -the workmen came out the smith, wrenching himself free from the tavern -keeper, fell face downward on the pavement. - -Another smith tried to enter the doorway, pressing against the -publican with his chest. - -The lad with the turned-up sleeve gave the smith a blow in the -face and cried wildly: "They're fighting us, lads!" - -At that moment the first smith got up and, scratching his bruised -face to make it bleed, shouted in a tearful voice: "Police! Murder!... -They've killed a man, lads!" - -"Oh, gracious me, a man beaten to death- killed!..." screamed a -woman coming out of a gate close by. - -A crowd gathered round the bloodstained smith. - -"Haven't you robbed people enough- taking their last shirts?" said a -voice addressing the publican. "What have you killed a man for, you -thief?" - -The tall lad, standing in the porch, turned his bleared eyes from -the publican to the smith and back again as if considering whom he -ought to fight now. - -"Murderer!" he shouted suddenly to the publican. "Bind him, lads!" - -"I daresay you would like to bind me!" shouted the publican, pushing -away the men advancing on him, and snatching his cap from his head -he flung it on the ground. - -As if this action had some mysterious and menacing significance, the -workmen surrounding the publican paused in indecision. - -"I know the law very well, mates! I'll take the matter to the -captain of police. You think I won't get to him? Robbery is not -permitted to anybody now a days!" shouted the publican, picking up his -cap. - -"Come along then! Come along then!" the publican and the tall -young fellow repeated one after the other, and they moved up the -street together. - -The bloodstained smith went beside them. The factory hands and -others followed behind, talking and shouting. - -At the corner of the Moroseyka, opposite a large house with closed -shutters and bearing a bootmaker's signboard, stood a score of thin, -worn-out, gloomy-faced bootmakers, wearing overalls and long -tattered coats. - -"He should pay folks off properly," a thin workingman, with frowning -brows and a straggly beard, was saying. - -"But he's sucked our blood and now he thinks he's quit of us. He's -been misleading us all the week and now that he's brought us to this -pass he's made off." - -On seeing the crowd and the bloodstained man the workman ceased -speaking, and with eager curiosity all the bootmakers joined the -moving crowd. - -"Where are all the folks going?" - -"Why, to the police, of course!" - -"I say, is it true that we have been beaten?" "And what did you -think? Look what folks are saying." - -Questions and answers were heard. The publican, taking advantage -of the increased crowd, dropped behind and returned to his tavern. - -The tall youth, not noticing the disappearance of his foe, waved his -bare arm and went on talking incessantly, attracting general attention -to himself. It was around him that the people chiefly crowded, -expecting answers from him to the questions that occupied all their -minds. - -"He must keep order, keep the law, that's what the government is -there for. Am I not right, good Christians?" said the tall youth, with -a scarcely perceptible smile. "He thinks there's no government! How -can one do without government? Or else there would be plenty who'd rob -us." - -"Why talk nonsense?" rejoined voices in the crowd. "Will they give -up Moscow like this? They told you that for fun, and you believed -it! Aren't there plenty of troops on the march? Let him in, indeed! -That's what the government is for. You'd better listen to what -people are saying," said some of the mob pointing to the tall youth. - -By the wall of China-Town a smaller group of people were gathered -round a man in a frieze coat who held a paper in his hand. - -"An ukase, they are reading an ukase! Reading an ukase!" cried -voices in the crowd, and the people rushed toward the reader. - -The man in the frieze coat was reading the broadsheet of August 31 -When the crowd collected round him he seemed confused, but at the -demand of the tall lad who had pushed his way up to him, he began in a -rather tremulous voice to read the sheet from the beginning. - -"Early tomorrow I shall go to his Serene Highness," he read -("Sirin Highness," said the tall fellow with a triumphant smile on his -lips and a frown on his brow), "to consult with him to act, and to aid -the army to exterminate these scoundrels. We too will take part..." -the reader went on, and then paused ("Do you see," shouted the youth -victoriously, "he's going to clear up the whole affair for -you...."), "in destroying them, and will send these visitors to the -devil. I will come back to dinner, and we'll set to work. We will -do, completely do, and undo these scoundrels." - -The last words were read out in the midst of complete silence. The -tall lad hung his head gloomily. It was evident that no one had -understood the last part. In particular, the words "I will come back -to dinner," evidently displeased both reader and audience. The -people's minds were tuned to a high pitch and this was too simple -and needlessly comprehensible- it was what any one of them might -have said and therefore was what an ukase emanating from the highest -authority should not say. - -They all stood despondent and silent. The tall youth moved his -lips and swayed from side to side. - -"We should ask him... that's he himself?"... "Yes, ask him -indeed!... Why not? He'll explain"... voices in the rear of the -crowd were suddenly heard saying, and the general attention turned -to the police superintendent's trap which drove into the square -attended by two mounted dragoons. - -The superintendent of police, who had that morning by Count -Rostopchin's orders to burn the barges and had in connection with that -matter acquired a large sum of money which was at that moment in his -pocket, on seeing a crowd bearing down upon him told his coachman to -stop. - -"What people are these?" he shouted to the men, who were moving -singly and timidly in the direction of his trap. - -"What people are these?" he shouted again, receiving no answer. - -"Your honor..." replied the shopman in the frieze coat, "your honor, -in accord with the proclamation of his highest excellency the count, -they desire to serve, not sparing their lives, and it is not any -kind of riot, but as his highest excellence said..." - -"The count has not left, he is here, and an order will be issued -concerning you," said the superintendent of police. "Go on!" he -ordered his coachman. - -The crowd halted, pressing around those who had heard what the -superintendent had said, and looking at the departing trap. - -The superintendent of police turned round at that moment with a -scared look, said something to his coachman, and his horses -increased their speed. - -"It's a fraud, lads! Lead the way to him, himself!" shouted the tall -youth. "Don't let him go, lads! Let him answer us! Keep him!" -shouted different people and the people dashed in pursuit of the trap. - -Following the superintendent of police and talking loudly the -crowd went in the direction of the Lubyanka Street. - -"There now, the gentry and merchants have gone away and left us to -perish. Do they think we're dogs?" voices in the crowd were heard -saying more and more frequently. - -CHAPTER XXIV - -On the evening of the first of September, after his interview with -Kutuzov, Count Rostopchin had returned to Moscow mortified and -offended because he had not been invited to attend the council of war, -and because Kutuzov had paid no attention to his offer to take part in -the defense of the city; amazed also at the novel outlook revealed -to him at the camp, which treated the tranquillity of the capital -and its patriotic fervor as not merely secondary but quite -irrelevant and unimportant matters. Distressed, offended, and -surprised by all this, Rostopchin had returned to Moscow. After supper -he lay down on a sofa without undressing, and was awakened soon -after midnight by a courier bringing him a letter from Kutuzov. This -letter requested the count to send police officers to guide the troops -through the town, as the army was retreating to the Ryazan road beyond -Moscow. This was not news to Rostopchin. He had known that Moscow -would be abandoned not merely since his interview the previous day -with Kutuzov on the Poklonny Hill but ever since the battle of -Borodino, for all the generals who came to Moscow after that battle -had said unanimously that it was impossible to fight another battle, -and since then the government property had been removed every night, -and half the inhabitants had left the city with Rostopchin's own -permission. Yet all the same this information astonished and irritated -the count, coming as it did in the form of a simple note with an order -from Kutuzov, and received at night, breaking in on his beauty sleep. - -When later on in his memoirs Count Rostopchin explained his -actions at this time, he repeatedly says that he was then actuated -by two important considerations: to maintain tranquillity in Moscow -and expedite the departure of the inhabitants. If one accepts this -twofold aim all Rostopchin's actions appear irreproachable. "Why -were the holy relics, the arms, ammunition, gunpowder, and stores of -corn not removed? Why were thousands of inhabitants deceived into -believing that Moscow would not be given up- and thereby ruined?" -"To presence the tranquillity of the city," explains Count Rostopchin. -"Why were bundles of useless papers from the government offices, and -Leppich's balloon and other articles removed?" "To leave the town -empty," explains Count Rostopchin. One need only admit that public -tranquillity is in danger and any action finds a justification. - -All the horrors of the reign of terror were based only on solicitude -for public tranquillity. - -On what, then, was Count Rostopchin's fear for the tranquillity of -Moscow based in 1812? What reason was there for assuming any -probability of an uprising in the city? The inhabitants were leaving -it and the retreating troops were filling it. Why should that cause -the masses to riot? - -Neither in Moscow nor anywhere in Russia did anything resembling -an insurrection ever occur when the enemy entered a town. More than -ten thousand people were still in Moscow on the first and second of -September, and except for a mob in the governor's courtyard, assembled -there at his bidding, nothing happened. It is obvious that there would -have been even less reason to expect a disturbance among the people if -after the battle of Borodino, when the surrender of Moscow became -certain or at least probable, Rostopchin instead of exciting the -people by distributing arms and broadsheets had taken steps to -remove all the holy relics, the gunpowder, munitions, and money, and -had told the population plainly that the town would be abandoned. - -Rostopchin, though he had patriotic sentiments, was a sanguine and -impulsive man who had always moved in the highest administrative -circles and had no understanding at all of the people he supposed -himself to be guiding. Ever since the enemy's entry into Smolensk he -had in imagination been playing the role of director of the popular -feeling of "the heart of Russia." Not only did it seem to him (as to -all administrators) that he controlled the external actions of -Moscow's inhabitants, but he also thought he controlled their mental -attitude by means of his broadsheets and posters, written in a -coarse tone which the people despise in their own class and do not -understand from those in authority. Rostopchin was so pleased with the -fine role of leader of popular feeling, and had grown so used to it, -that the necessity of relinquishing that role and abandoning Moscow -without any heroic display took him unawares and he suddenly felt -the ground slip away from under his feet, so that he positively did -not know what to do. Though he knew it was coming, he did not till the -last moment wholeheartedly believe that Moscow would be abandoned, and -did not prepare for it. The inhabitants left against his wishes. If -the government offices were removed, this was only done on the -demand of officials to whom the count yielded reluctantly. He was -absorbed in the role he had created for himself. As is often the -case with those gifted with an ardent imagination, though he had -long known that Moscow would be abandoned he knew it only with his -intellect, he did not believe it in his heart and did not adapt -himself mentally to this new position of affairs. - -All his painstaking and energetic activity (in how far it was useful -and had any effect on the people is another question) had been -simply directed toward arousing in the masses his own feeling of -patriotic hatred of the French. - -But when events assumed their true historical character, when -expressing hatred for the French in words proved insufficient, when it -was not even possible to express that hatred by fighting a battle, -when self-confidence was of no avail in relation to the one question -before Moscow, when the whole population streamed out of Moscow as one -man, abandoning their belongings and proving by that negative action -all the depth of their national feeling, then the role chosen by -Rostopchin suddenly appeared senseless. He unexpectedly felt himself -ridiculous, weak, and alone, with no ground to stand on. - -When, awakened from his sleep, he received that cold, peremptory -note from Kutuzov, he felt the more irritated the more he felt himself -to blame. All that he had been specially put in charge of, the state -property which he should have removed, was still in Moscow and it -was no longer possible to take the whole of it away. - -"Who is to blame for it? Who has let things come to such a pass?" he -ruminated. "Not I, of course. I had everything ready. I had Moscow -firmly in hand. And this is what they have let it come to! Villains! -Traitors!" he thought, without clearly defining who the villains and -traitors were, but feeling it necessary to hate those traitors whoever -they might be who were to blame for the false and ridiculous -position in which he found himself. - -All that night Count Rostopchin issued orders, for which people came -to him from all parts of Moscow. Those about him had never seen the -count so morose and irritable. - -"Your excellency, the Director of the Registrar's Department has -sent for instructions... From the Consistory, from the Senate, from -the University, from the Foundling Hospital, the Suffragan has sent... -asking for information.... What are your orders about the Fire -Brigade? From the governor of the prison... from the superintendent of -the lunatic asylum..." All night long such announcements were -continually being received by the count. - -To all these inquiries he gave brief and angry replies indicating -that orders from him were not now needed, that the whole affair, -carefully prepared by him, had now been ruined by somebody, and that -that somebody would have to bear the whole responsibility for all that -might happen. - -"Oh, tell that blockhead," he said in reply to the question from the -Registrar's Department, "that he should remain to guard his documents. -Now why are you asking silly questions about the Fire Brigade? They -have horses, let them be off to Vladimir, and not leave them to the -French." - -"Your excellency, the superintendent of the lunatic asylum has come: -what are your commands?" - -"My commands? Let them go away, that's all.... And let the -lunatics out into the town. When lunatics command our armies God -evidently means these other madmen to be free." - -In reply to an inquiry about the convicts in the prison, Count -Rostopchin shouted angrily at the governor: - -"Do you expect me to give you two battalions- which we have not got- -for a convoy? Release them, that's all about it!" - -"Your excellency, there are some political prisoners, Meshkov, -Vereshchagin..." - -"Vereshchagin! Hasn't he been hanged yet?" shouted Rostopchin. -"Bring him to me!" - -CHAPTER XXV - -Toward nine o'clock in the morning, when the troops were already -moving through Moscow, nobody came to the count any more for -instructions. Those who were able to get away were going of their -own accord, those who remained behind decided for themselves what they -must do. - -The count ordered his carriage that he might drive to Sokolniki, and -sat in his study with folded hands, morose, sallow, and taciturn. - -In quiet and untroubled times it seems to every administrator that -it is only by his efforts that the whole population under his rule -is kept going, and in this consciousness of being indispensable -every administrator finds the chief reward of his labor and efforts. -While the sea of history remains calm the ruler-administrator in his -frail bark, holding on with a boat hook to the ship of the people -and himself moving, naturally imagines that his efforts move the -ship he is holding on to. But as soon as a storm arises and the sea -begins to heave and the ship to move, such a delusion is no longer -possible. The ship moves independently with its own enormous motion, -the boat hook no longer reaches the moving vessel, and suddenly the -administrator, instead of appearing a ruler and a source of power, -becomes an insignificant, useless, feeble man. - -Rostopchin felt this, and it was this which exasperated him. - -The superintendent of police, whom the crowd had stopped, went in to -see him at the same time as an adjutant who informed the count that -the horses were harnessed. They were both pale, and the superintendent -of police, after reporting that he had executed the instructions he -had received, informed the count that an immense crowd had collected -in the courtyard and wished to see him. - -Without saying a word Rostopchin rose and walked hastily to his -light, luxurious drawing room, went to the balcony door, took hold -of the handle, let it go again, and went to the window from which he -had a better view of the whole crowd. The tall lad was standing in -front, flourishing his arm and saying something with a stern look. The -blood stained smith stood beside him with a gloomy face. A drone of -voices was audible through the closed window. - -"Is my carriage ready?" asked Rostopchin, stepping back from the -window. - -"It is, your excellency," replied the adjutant. - -Rostopchin went again to the balcony door. - -"But what do they want?" he asked the superintendent of police. - -"Your excellency, they say they have got ready, according to your -orders, to go against the French, and they shouted something about -treachery. But it is a turbulent crowd, your excellency- I hardly -managed to get away from it. Your excellency, I venture to suggest..." - -"You may go. I don't need you to tell me what to do!" exclaimed -Rostopchin angrily. - -He stood by the balcony door looking at the crowd. - -"This is what they have done with Russia! This is what they have -done with me!" thought he, full of an irrepressible fury that welled -up within him against the someone to whom what was happening might -be attributed. As often happens with passionate people, he was -mastered by anger but was still seeking an object on which to vent it. -"Here is that mob, the dregs of the people," he thought as he gazed at -the crowd: "this rabble they have roused by their folly! They want a -victim," he thought as he looked at the tall lad flourishing his -arm. And this thought occurred to him just because he himself -desired a victim, something on which to vent his rage. - -"Is the carriage ready?" he asked again. - -"Yes, your excellency. What are your orders about Vereshchagin? He -is waiting at the porch," said the adjutant. - -"Ah!" exclaimed Rostopchin, as if struck by an unexpected -recollection. - -And rapidly opening the door he went resolutely out onto the -balcony. The talking instantly ceased, hats and caps were doffed, -and all eyes were raised to the count. - -"Good morning, lads!" said the count briskly and loudly. "Thank -you for coming. I'll come out to you in a moment, but we must first -settle with the villain. We must punish the villain who has caused the -ruin of Moscow. Wait for me!" - -And the count stepped as briskly back into the room and slammed -the door behind him. - -A murmur of approbation and satisfaction ran through the crowd. -"He'll settle with all the villains, you'll see! And you said the -French... He'll show you what law is!" the mob were saying as if -reproving one another for their lack of confidence. - -A few minutes later an officer came hurriedly out of the front door, -gave an order, and the dragoons formed up in line. The crowd moved -eagerly from the balcony toward the porch. Rostopchin, coming out -there with quick angry steps, looked hastily around as if seeking -someone. - -"Where is he?" he inquired. And as he spoke he saw a young man -coming round the corner of the house between two dragoons. He had a -long thin neck, and his head, that had been half shaved, was again -covered by short hair. This young man was dressed in a threadbare blue -cloth coat lined with fox fur, that had once been smart, and dirty -hempen convict trousers, over which were pulled his thin, dirty, -trodden-down boots. On his thin, weak legs were heavy chains which -hampered his irresolute movements. - -"Ah!" said Rostopchin, hurriedly turning away his eyes from the -young man in the fur-lined coat and pointing to the bottom step of the -porch. "Put him there." - -The young man in his clattering chains stepped clumsily to the -spot indicated, holding away with one finger the coat collar which -chafed his neck, turned his long neck twice this way and that, sighed, -and submissively folded before him his thin hands, unused to work. - -For several seconds while the young man was taking his place on -the step the silence continued. Only among the back rows of the -people, who were all pressing toward the one spot, could sighs, -groans, and the shuffling of feet be heard. - -While waiting for the young man to take his place on the step -Rostopchin stood frowning and rubbing his face with his hand. - -"Lads!" said he, with a metallic ring in his voice. "This man, -Vereshchagin, is the scoundrel by whose doing Moscow is perishing." - -The young man in the fur-lined coat, stooping a little, stood in a -submissive attitude, his fingers clasped before him. His emaciated -young face, disfigured by the half-shaven head, hung down -hopelessly. At the count's first words he raised it slowly and -looked up at him as if wishing to say something or at least to meet -his eye. But Rostopchin did not look at him. A vein in the young man's -long thin neck swelled like a cord and went blue behind the ear, and -suddenly his face flushed. - -All eyes were fixed on him. He looked at the crowd, and rendered -more hopeful by the expression he read on the faces there, he smiled -sadly and timidly, and lowering his head shifted his feet on the step. - -"He has betrayed his Tsar and his country, he had gone over to -Bonaparte. He alone of all the Russians has disgraced the Russian -name, he has caused Moscow to perish," said Rostopchin in a sharp, -even voice, but suddenly he glanced down at Vereshchagin who continued -to stand in the same submissive attitude. As if inflamed by the sight, -he raised his arm and addressed the people, almost shouting: - -"Deal with him as you think fit! I hand him over to you." - -The crowd remained silent and only pressed closer and closer to -one another. To keep one another back, to breathe in that stifling -atmosphere, to be unable to stir, and to await something unknown, -uncomprehended, and terrible, was becoming unbearable. Those -standing in front, who had seen and heard what had taken place -before them, all stood with wide open eyes and mouths, straining -with all their strength, and held back the crowd that was pushing -behind them. - -"Beat him!... Let the traitor perish and not disgrace the Russian -name!" shouted Rostopchin. "Cut him down. I command it." - -Hearing not so much the words as the angry tone of Rostopchin's -voice, the crowd moaned and heaved forward, but again paused. - -"Count!" exclaimed the timid yet theatrical voice of Vereshchagin in -the midst of the momentary silence that ensued, "Count! One God is -above us both...." He lifted his head and again the thick vein in -his thin neck filled with blood and the color rapidly came and went in -his face. - -He did not finish what he wished to say. - -"Cut him down! I command it..." shouted Rostopchin, suddenly growing -pale like Vereshchagin. - -"Draw sabers!" cried the dragoon officer, drawing his own. - -Another still stronger wave flowed through the crowd and reaching -the front ranks carried it swaying to the very steps of the porch. The -tall youth, with a stony look on his face, and rigid and uplifted arm, -stood beside Vereshchagin. - -"Saber him!" the dragoon officer almost whispered. - -And one of the soldiers, his face all at once distorted with fury, -struck Vereshchagin on the head with the blunt side of his saber. - -"Ah!" cried Vereshchagin in meek surprise, looking round with a -frightened glance as if not understanding why this was done to him. -A similar moan of surprise and horror ran through the crowd. "O Lord!" -exclaimed a sorrowful voice. - -But after the exclamation of surprise that had escaped from -Vereshchagin he uttered a plaintive cry of pain, and that cry was -fatal. The barrier of human feeling, strained to the utmost, that -had held the crowd in check suddenly broke. The crime had begun and -must now be completed. The plaintive moan of reproach was drowned by -the threatening and angry roar of the crowd. Like the seventh and last -wave that shatters a ship, that last irresistible wave burst from -the rear and reached the front ranks, carrying them off their feet and -engulfing them all. The dragoon was about to repeat his blow. -Vereshchagin with a cry of horror, covering his head with his hands, -rushed toward the crowd. The tall youth, against whom he stumbled, -seized his thin neck with his hands and, yelling wildly, fell with him -under the feet of the pressing, struggling crowd. - -Some beat and tore at Vereshchagin, others at the tall youth. And -the screams of those that were being trampled on and of those who -tried to rescue the tall lad only increased the fury of the crowd. -It was a long time before the dragoons could extricate the bleeding -youth, beaten almost to death. And for a long time, despite the -feverish haste with which the mob tried to end the work that had -been begun, those who were hitting, throttling, and tearing at -Vereshchagin were unable to kill him, for the crowd pressed from all -sides, swaying as one mass with them in the center and rendering it -impossible for them either to kill him or let him go. - -"Hit him with an ax, eh!... Crushed?... Traitor, he sold -Christ.... Still alive... tenacious... serves him right! Torture -serves a thief right. Use the hatchet!... What- still alive?" - -Only when the victim ceased to struggle and his cries changed to a -long-drawn, measured death rattle did the crowd around his -prostrate, bleeding corpse begin rapidly to change places. Each one -came up, glanced at what had been done, and with horror, reproach, and -astonishment pushed back again. - -"O Lord! The people are like wild beasts! How could he be alive?" -voices in the crowd could be heard saying. "Quite a young fellow -too... must have been a merchant's son. What men!... and they say he's -not the right one.... How not the right one?... O Lord! And there's -another has been beaten too- they say he's nearly done for.... Oh, the -people... Aren't they afraid of sinning?..." said the same mob now, -looking with pained distress at the dead body with its long, thin, -half-severed neck and its livid face stained with blood and dust. - -A painstaking police officer, considering the presence of a corpse -in his excellency's courtyard unseemly, told the dragoons to take it -away. Two dragoons took it by its distorted legs and dragged it -along the ground. The gory, dust-stained, half-shaven head with its -long neck trailed twisting along the ground. The crowd shrank back -from it. - -At the moment when Vereshchagin fell and the crowd closed in with -savage yells and swayed about him, Rostopchin suddenly turned pale -and, instead of going to the back entrance where his carriage -awaited him, went with hurried steps and bent head, not knowing -where and why, along the passage leading to the rooms on the ground -floor. The count's face was white and he could not control the -feverish twitching of his lower jaw. - -"This way, your excellency... Where are you going?... This way, -please..." said a trembling, frightened voice behind him. - -Count Rostopchin was unable to reply and, turning obediently, went -in the direction indicated. At the back entrance stood his caleche. -The distant roar of the yelling crowd was audible even there. He -hastily took his seat and told the coachman to drive him to his -country house in Sokolniki. - -When they reached the Myasnitski Street and could no longer hear the -shouts of the mob, the count began to repent. He remembered with -dissatisfaction the agitation and fear he had betrayed before his -subordinates. "The mob is terrible- disgusting," he said to himself in -French. "They are like wolves whom nothing but flesh can appease." -"Count! One God is above us both!"- Vereshchagin's words suddenly -recurred to him, and a disagreeable shiver ran down his back. But this -was only a momentary feeling and Count Rostopchin smiled -disdainfully at himself. "I had other duties," thought he. "The people -had to be appeased. Many other victims have perished and are perishing -for the public good"- and he began thinking of his social duties to -his family and to the city entrusted to him, and of himself- not -himself as Theodore Vasilyevich Rostopchin (he fancied that Theodore -Vasilyevich Rostopchin was sacrificing himself for the public good) -but himself as governor, the representative of authority and of the -Tsar. "Had I been simply Theodore Vasilyevich my course of action -would have been quite different, but it was my duty to safeguard my -life and dignity as commander in chief." - -Lightly swaying on the flexible springs of his carriage and no -longer hearing the terrible sounds of the crowd, Rostopchin grew -physically calm and, as always happens, as soon as he became -physically tranquil his mind devised reasons why he should be mentally -tranquil too. The thought which tranquillized Rostopchin was not a new -one. Since the world began and men have killed one another no one -has ever committed such a crime against his fellow man without -comforting himself with this same idea. This idea is le bien public, -the hypothetical welfare of other people. - -To a man not swayed by passion that welfare is never certain, but he -who commits such a crime always knows just where that welfare lies. -And Rostopchin now knew it. - -Not only did his reason not reproach him for what he had done, but -he even found cause for self-satisfaction in having so successfully -contrived to avail himself of a convenient opportunity to punish a -criminal and at the same time pacify the mob. - -"Vereshchagin was tried and condemned to death," thought -Rostopchin (though the Senate had only condemned Vereshchagin to -hard labor), "he was a traitor and a spy. I could not let him go -unpunished and so I have killed two birds with one stone: to appease -the mob I gave them a victim and at the same time punished a -miscreant." - -Having reached his country house and begun to give orders about -domestic arrangements, the count grew quite tranquil. - -Half an hour later he was driving with his fast horses across the -Sokolniki field, no longer thinking of what had occurred but -considering what was to come. He was driving to the Yauza bridge where -he had heard that Kutuzov was. Count Rostopchin was mentally preparing -the angry and stinging reproaches he meant to address to Kutuzov for -his deception. He would make that foxy old courtier feel that the -responsibility for all the calamities that would follow the -abandonment of the city and the ruin of Russia (as Rostopchin regarded -it) would fall upon his doting old head. Planning beforehand what he -would say to Kutuzov, Rostopchin turned angrily in his caleche and -gazed sternly from side to side. - -The Sokolniki field was deserted. Only at the end of it, in front of -the almshouse and the lunatic asylum, could be seen some people in -white and others like them walking singly across the field shouting -and gesticulating. - -One of these was running to cross the path of Count Rostopchin's -carriage, and the count himself, his coachman, and his dragoons looked -with vague horror and curiosity at these released lunatics and -especially at the one running toward them. - -Swaying from side to side on his long, thin legs in his fluttering -dressing gown, this lunatic was running impetuously, his gaze fixed on -Rostopchin, shouting something in a hoarse voice and making signs to -him to stop. The lunatic's solemn, gloomy face was thin and yellow, -with its beard growing in uneven tufts. His black, agate pupils with -saffron-yellow whites moved restlessly near the lower eyelids. - -"Stop! Pull up, I tell you!" he cried in a piercing voice, and again -shouted something breathlessly with emphatic intonations and gestures. - -Coming abreast of the caleche he ran beside it. - -"Thrice have they slain me, thrice have I risen from the dead. -They stoned me, crucified me... I shall rise... shall rise... shall -rise. They have torn my body. The kingdom of God will be overthrown... -Thrice will I overthrow it and thrice re-establish it!" he cried, -raising his voice higher and higher. - -Count Rostopchin suddenly grew pale as he had done when the crowd -closed in on Vereshchagin. He turned away. "Go fas... faster!" he -cried in a trembling voice to his coachman. The caleche flew over -the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time -Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing -fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the -astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the -fur-lined coat. - -Recent as that mental picture was, Rostopchin already felt that it -had cut deep into his heart and drawn blood. Even now he felt -clearly that the gory trace of that recollection would not pass with -time, but that the terrible memory would, on the contrary, dwell in -his heart ever more cruelly and painfully to the end of his life. He -seemed still to hear the sound of his own words: "Cut him down! I -command it...." - -"Why did I utter those words? It was by some accident I said -them.... I need not have said them," he thought. "And then nothing -would have happened." He saw the frightened and then infuriated face -of the dragoon who dealt the blow, the look of silent, timid -reproach that boy in the fur-lined coat had turned upon him. "But I -did not do it for my own sake. I was bound to act that way.... The -mob, the traitor... the public welfare," thought he. - -Troops were still crowding at the Yauza bridge. It was hot. Kutuzov, -dejected and frowning, sat on a bench by the bridge toying with his -whip in the sand when a caleche dashed up noisily. A man in a -general's uniform with plumes in his hat went up to Kutuzov and said -something in French. It was Count Rostopchin. He told Kutuzov that -he had come because Moscow, the capital, was no more and only the army -remained. - -"Things would have been different if your Serene Highness had not -told me that you would not abandon Moscow without another battle; -all this would not have happened," he said. - -Kutuzov looked at Rostopchin as if, not grasping what was said to -him, he was trying to read something peculiar written at that moment -on the face of the man addressing him. Rostopchin grew confused and -became silent. Kutuzov slightly shook his head and not taking his -penetrating gaze from Rostopchin's face muttered softly: - -"No! I shall not give up Moscow without a battle!" - -Whether Kutuzov was thinking of something entirely different when he -spoke those words, or uttered them purposely, knowing them to be -meaningless, at any rate Rostopchin made no reply and hastily left -him. And strange to say, the Governor of Moscow, the proud Count -Rostopchin, took up a Cossack whip and went to the bridge where he -began with shouts to drive on the carts that blocked the way. - -CHAPTER XXVI - -Toward four o'clock in the afternoon Murat's troops were entering -Moscow. In front rode a detachment of Wurttemberg hussars and behind -them rode the King of Naples himself accompanied by a numerous suite. - -About the middle of the Arbat Street, near the Church of the -Miraculous Icon of St. Nicholas, Murat halted to await news from the -advanced detachment as to the condition in which they had found the -citadel, le Kremlin. - -Around Murat gathered a group of those who had remained in Moscow. -They all stared in timid bewilderment at the strange, long-haired -commander dressed up in feathers and gold. - -"Is that their Tsar himself? He's not bad!" low voices could be -heard saying. - -An interpreter rode up to the group. - -"Take off your cap... your caps!" These words went from one to -another in the crowd. The interpreter addressed an old porter and -asked if it was far to the Kremlin. The porter, listening in -perplexity to the unfamiliar Polish accent and not realizing that -the interpreter was speaking Russian, did not understand what was -being said to him and slipped behind the others. - -Murat approached the interpreter and told him to ask where the -Russian army was. One of the Russians understood what was asked and -several voices at once began answering the interpreter. A French -officer, returning from the advanced detachment, rode up to Murat -and reported that the gates of the citadel had been barricaded and -that there was probably an ambuscade there. - -"Good!" said Murat and, turning to one of the gentlemen in his -suite, ordered four light guns to be moved forward to fire at the -gates. - -The guns emerged at a trot from the column following Murat and -advanced up the Arbat. When they reached the end of the Vozdvizhenka -Street they halted and drew in the Square. Several French officers -superintended the placing of the guns and looked at the Kremlin -through field glasses. - -The bells in the Kremlin were ringing for vespers, and this sound -troubled the French. They imagined it to be a call to arms. A few -infantrymen ran to the Kutafyev Gate. Beams and wooden screens had -been put there, and two musket shots rang out from under the gate as -soon as an officer and men began to run toward it. A general who was -standing by the guns shouted some words of command to the officer, and -the latter ran back again with his men. - -The sound of three more shots came from the gate. - -One shot struck a French soldier's foot, and from behind the screens -came the strange sound of a few voices shouting. Instantly as at a -word of command the expression of cheerful serenity on the faces of -the French general, officers, and men changed to one of determined -concentrated readiness for strife and suffering. To all of them from -the marshal to the least soldier, that place was not the Vozdvizhenka, -Mokhavaya, or Kutafyev Street, nor the Troitsa Gate (places familiar -in Moscow), but a new battlefield which would probably prove -sanguinary. And all made ready for that battle. The cries from the -gates ceased. The guns were advanced, the artillerymen blew the ash -off their linstocks, and an officer gave the word "Fire!" This was -followed by two whistling sounds of canister shot, one after -another. The shot rattled against the stone of the gate and upon the -wooden beams and screens, and two wavering clouds of smoke rose over -the Square. - -A few instants after the echo of the reports resounding over the -stone-built Kremlin had died away the French heard a strange sound -above their head. Thousands of crows rose above the walls and -circled in the air, cawing and noisily flapping their wings. -Together with that sound came a solitary human cry from the gateway -and amid the smoke appeared the figure of a bareheaded man in a -peasant's coat. He grasped a musket and took aim at the French. -"Fire!" repeated the officer once more, and the reports of a musket -and of two cannon shots were heard simultaneously. The gate again -hidden by smoke. - -Nothing more stirred behind the screens and the French infantry -soldiers and officers advanced to the gate. In the gateway lay three -wounded and four dead. Two men in peasant coats ran away at the foot -of the wall, toward the Znamenka. - -"Clear that away!" said the officer, pointing to the beams and the -corpses, and the French soldiers, after dispatching the wounded, threw -the corpses over the parapet. - -Who these men were nobody knew. "Clear that away!" was all that -was said of them, and they were thrown over the parapet and removed -later on that they might not stink. Thiers alone dedicates a few -eloquent lines to their memory: "These wretches had occupied the -sacred citadel, having supplied themselves with guns from the arsenal, -and fired" (the wretches) "at the French. Some of them were sabered -and the Kremlin was purged of their presence." - -Murat was informed that the way had been cleared. The French entered -the gates and began pitching their camp in the Senate Square. Out of -the windows of the Senate House the soldiers threw chairs into the -Square for fuel and kindled fires there. - -Other detachments passed through the Kremlin and encamped along -the Moroseyka, the Lubyanka, and Pokrovka Streets. Others quartered -themselves along the Vozdvizhenka, the Nikolski, and the Tverskoy -Streets. No masters of the houses being found anywhere, the French -were not billeted on the inhabitants as is usual in towns but lived in -it as in a camp. - -Though tattered, hungry, worn out, and reduced to a third of their -original number, the French entered Moscow in good marching order. -It was a weary and famished, but still a fighting and menacing army. -But it remained an army only until its soldiers had dispersed into -their different lodgings. As soon as the men of the various -regiments began to disperse among the wealthy and deserted houses, the -army was lost forever and there came into being something nondescript, -neither citizens nor soldiers but what are known as marauders. When -five weeks later these same men left Moscow, they no longer formed -an army. They were a mob of marauders, each carrying a quantity of -articles which seemed to him valuable or useful. The aim of each man -when he left Moscow was no longer, as it had been, to conquer, but -merely to keep what he had acquired. Like a monkey which puts its -paw into the narrow neck of a jug, and having seized a handful of nuts -will not open its fist for fear of losing what it holds, and therefore -perishes, the French when they left Moscow had inevitably to perish -because they carried their loot with them, yet to abandon what they -had stolen was as impossible for them as it is for the monkey to -open its paw and let go of its nuts. Ten minutes after each regiment -had entered a Moscow district, not a soldier or officer was left. -Men in military uniforms and Hessian boots could be seen through the -windows, laughing and walking through the rooms. In cellars and -storerooms similar men were busy among the provisions, and in the -yards unlocking or breaking open coach house and stable doors, -lighting fires in kitchens and kneading and baking bread with -rolled-up sleeves, and cooking; or frightening, amusing, or -caressing women and children. There were many such men both in the -shops and houses- but there was no army. - -Order after order was issued by the French commanders that day -forbidding the men to disperse about the town, sternly forbidding -any violence to the inhabitants or any looting, and announcing a -roll call for that very evening. But despite all these measures the -men, who had till then constituted an army, flowed all over the -wealthy, deserted city with its comforts and plentiful supplies. As -a hungry herd of cattle keeps well together when crossing a barren -field, but gets out of hand and at once disperses uncontrollably as -soon as it reaches rich pastures, so did the army disperse all over -the wealthy city. - -No residents were left in Moscow, and the soldiers- like water -percolating through sand- spread irresistibly through the city in -all directions from the Kremlin into which they had first marched. The -cavalry, on entering a merchant's house that had been abandoned and -finding there stabling more than sufficient for their horses, went on, -all the same, to the next house which seemed to them better. Many of -them appropriated several houses, chalked their names on them, and -quarreled and even fought with other companies for them. Before they -had had time to secure quarters the soldiers ran out into the -streets to see the city and, hearing that everything had been -abandoned, rushed to places where valuables were to be had for the -taking. The officers followed to check the soldiers and were -involuntarily drawn into doing the same. In Carriage Row carriages had -been left in the shops, and generals flocked there to select -caleches and coaches for themselves. The few inhabitants who had -remained invited commanding officers to their houses, hoping thereby -to secure themselves from being plundered. There were masses of wealth -and there seemed no end to it. All around the quarters occupied by the -French were other regions still unexplored and unoccupied where, -they thought, yet greater riches might be found. And Moscow engulfed -the army ever deeper and deeper. When water is spilled on dry ground -both the dry ground and the water disappear and mud results; and in -the same way the entry of the famished army into the rich and deserted -city resulted in fires and looting and the destruction of both the -army and the wealthy city. - -The French attributed the Fire of Moscow au patriotisme feroce de -Rostopchine,~{ To Rostopchin's ferocious patriotism. }~ the Russians to the barbarity of the French. In reality, -however, it was not, and could not be, possible to explain the burning -of Moscow by making any individual, or any group of people, -responsible for it. Moscow was burned because it found itself in a -position in which any town built of wood was bound to burn, quite -apart from whether it had, or had not, a hundred and thirty inferior -fire engines. Deserted Moscow had to burn as inevitably as a heap of -shavings has to burn on which sparks continually fall for several -days. A town built of wood, where scarcely a day passes without -conflagrations when the house owners are in residence and a police -force is present, cannot help burning when its inhabitants have left -it and it is occupied by soldiers who smoke pipes, make campfires of -the Senate chairs in the Senate Square, and cook themselves meals -twice a day. In peacetime it is only necessary to billet troops in the -villages of any district and the number of fires in that district -immediately increases. How much then must the probability of fire be -increased in an abandoned, wooden town where foreign troops are -quartered. "Le patriotisme feroce de Rostopchine" and the barbarity of -the French were not to blame in the matter. Moscow was set on fire -by the soldiers' pipes, kitchens, and campfires, and by the -carelessness of enemy soldiers occupying houses they did not own. Even -if there was any arson (which is very doubtful, for no one had any -reason to burn the houses- in any case a troublesome and dangerous -thing to do), arson cannot be regarded as the cause, for the same -thing would have happened without any incendiarism. - -However tempting it might be for the French to blame Rostopchin's -ferocity and for Russians to blame the scoundrel Bonaparte, or later -on to place an heroic torch in the hands of their own people, it is -impossible not to see that there could be no such direct cause of -the fire, for Moscow had to burn as every village, factory, or house -must burn which is left by its owners and in which strangers are -allowed to live and cook their porridge. Moscow was burned by its -inhabitants, it is true, but by those who had abandoned it and not -by those who remained in it. Moscow when occupied by the enemy did not -remain intact like Berlin, Vienna, and other towns, simply because its -inhabitants abandoned it and did not welcome the French with bread and -salt, nor bring them the keys of the city. - -CHAPTER XXVII - -The absorption of the French by Moscow, radiating starwise as it -did, only reached the quarter where Pierre was staying by the -evening of the second of September. - -After the last two days spent in solitude and unusual circumstances, -Pierre was in a state bordering on insanity. He was completely -obsessed by one persistent thought. He did not know how or when this -thought had taken such possession of him, but he remembered nothing of -the past, understood nothing of the present, and all he saw and -heard appeared to him like a dream. - -He had left home only to escape the intricate tangle of life's -demands that enmeshed him, and which in his present condition he was -unable to unravel. He had gone to Joseph Alexeevich's house, on the -plea of sorting the deceased's books and papers, only in search of -rest from life's turmoil, for in his mind the memory of Joseph -Alexeevich was connected with a world of eternal, solemn, and calm -thoughts, quite contrary to the restless confusion into which he -felt himself being drawn. He sought a quiet refuge, and in Joseph -Alexeevich's study he really found it. When he sat with his elbows -on the dusty writing table in the deathlike stillness of the study, -calm and significant memories of the last few days rose one after -another in his imagination, particularly of the battle of Borodino and -of that vague sense of his own insignificance and insincerity compared -with the truth, simplicity, and strength of the class of men he -mentally classed as they. When Gerasim roused him from his reverie the -idea occurred to him of taking part in the popular defense of Moscow -which he knew was projected. And with that object he had asked Gerasim -to get him a peasant's coat and a pistol, confiding to him his -intentions of remaining in Joseph Alexeevich's house and keeping his -name secret. Then during the first day spent in inaction and -solitude (he tried several times to fix his attention on the Masonic -manuscripts, but was unable to do so) the idea that had previously -occurred to him of the cabalistic significance of his name in -connection with Bonaparte's more than once vaguely presented itself. -But the idea that he, L'russe Besuhof, was destined to set a limit -to the power of the Beast was as yet only one of the fancies that -often passed through his mind and left no trace behind. - -When, having bought the coat merely with the object of taking part -among the people in the defense of Moscow, Pierre had met the -Rostovs and Natasha had said to him: "Are you remaining in -Moscow?... How splendid!" the thought flashed into his mind that it -really would be a good thing, even if Moscow were taken, for him to -remain there and do what he was predestined to do. - -Next day, with the sole idea of not sparing himself and not -lagging in any way behind them, Pierre went to the Three Hills gate. -But when he returned to the house convinced that Moscow would not be -defended, he suddenly felt that what before had seemed to him merely a -possibility had now become absolutely necessary and inevitable. He -must remain in Moscow, concealing his name, and must meet Napoleon and -kill him, and either perish or put an end to the misery of all Europe- -which it seemed to him was solely due to Napoleon. - -Pierre knew all the details of the attempt on Bonaparte's life in -1809 by a German student in Vienna, and knew that the student had been -shot. And the risk to which he would expose his life by carrying out -his design excited him still more. - -Two equally strong feelings drew Pierre irresistibly to this -purpose. The first was a feeling of the necessity of sacrifice and -suffering in view of the common calamity, the same feeling that had - -caused him to go to Mozhaysk on the twenty-fifth and to make his way -to the very thick of the battle and had now caused him to run away -from his home and, in place of the luxury and comfort to which he -was accustomed, to sleep on a hard sofa without undressing and eat the -same food as Gerasim. The other was that vague and quite Russian -feeling of contempt for everything conventional, artificial, and -human- for everything the majority of men regard as the greatest -good in the world. Pierre had first experienced this strange and -fascinating feeling at the Sloboda Palace, when he had suddenly felt -that wealth, power, and life- all that men so painstakingly acquire -and guard- if it has any worth has so only by reason the joy with -which it can all be renounced. - -It was the feeling that induces a volunteer recruit to spend his -last penny on drink, and a drunken man to smash mirrors or glasses for -no apparent reason and knowing that it will cost him all the money -he possesses: the feeling which causes a man to perform actions -which from an ordinary point of view are insane, to test, as it -were, his personal power and strength, affirming the existence of a -higher, nonhuman criterion of life. - -From the very day Pierre had experienced this feeling for the -first time at the Sloboda Palace he had been continuously under its -influence, but only now found full satisfaction for it. Moreover, at -this moment Pierre was supported in his design and prevented from -renouncing it by what he had already done in that direction. If he -were now to leave Moscow like everyone else, his flight from home, the -peasant coat, the pistol, and his announcement to the Rostovs that -he would remain in Moscow would all become not merely meaningless -but contemptible and ridiculous, and to this Pierre was very -sensitive. - -Pierre's physical condition, as is always the case, corresponded -to his mental state. The unaccustomed coarse food, the vodka he -drank during those days, the absence of wine and cigars, his dirty -unchanged linen, two almost sleepless nights passed on a short sofa -without bedding- all this kept him in a state of excitement -bordering on insanity. - -It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The French had already -entered Moscow. Pierre knew this, but instead of acting he only -thought about his undertaking, going over its minutest details in -his mind. In his fancy he did not clearly picture to himself either -the striking of the blow or the death of Napoleon, but with -extraordinary vividness and melancholy enjoyment imagined his own -destruction and heroic endurance. - -"Yes, alone, for the sake of all, I must do it or perish!" he -thought. "Yes, I will approach... and then suddenly... with pistol -or dagger? But that is all the same! 'It is not I but the hand of -Providence that punishes thee,' I shall say," thought he, imagining -what he would say when killing Napoleon. "Well then, take me and -execute me!" he went on, speaking to himself and bowing his head -with a sad but firm expression. - -While Pierre, standing in the middle of the room, was talking to -himself in this way, the study door opened and on the threshold -appeared the figure of Makar Alexeevich, always so timid before but -now quite transformed. - -His dressing gown was unfastened, his face red and distorted. He was -obviously drunk. On seeing Pierre he grew confused at first, but -noticing embarrassment on Pierre's face immediately grew bold and, -staggering on his thin legs, advanced into the middle of the room. - -"They're frightened," he said confidentially in a hoarse voice. "I -say I won't surrender, I say... Am I not right, sir?" - -He paused and then suddenly seeing the pistol on the table seized it -with unexpected rapidity and ran out into the corridor. - -Gerasim and the porter, who had followed Makar Alexeevich, stopped -him in the vestibule and tried to take the pistol from him. Pierre, -coming out into the corridor, looked with pity and repulsion at the -half-crazy old man. Makar Alexeevich, frowning with exertion, held -on to the pistol and screamed hoarsely, evidently with some heroic -fancy in his head. - -"To arms! Board them! No, you shan't get it," he yelled. - -"That will do, please, that will do. Have the goodness- please, sir, -to let go! Please, sir..." pleaded Gerasim, trying carefully to -steer Makar Alexeevich by the elbows back to the door. - -"Who are you? Bonaparte!..." shouted Makar Alexeevich. - -"That's not right, sir. Come to your room, please, and rest. Allow -me to have the pistol." - -"Be off, thou base slave! Touch me not! See this?" shouted Makar -Alexeevich, brandishing the pistol. "Board them!" - -"Catch hold!" whispered Gerasim to the porter. - -They seized Makar Alexeevich by the arms and dragged him to the -door. - -The vestibule was filled with the discordant sounds of a struggle -and of a tipsy, hoarse voice. - -Suddenly a fresh sound, a piercing feminine scream, reverberated -from the porch and the cook came running into the vestibule. - -"It's them! Gracious heavens! O Lord, four of them, horsemen!" she -cried. - -Gerasim and the porter let Makar Alexeevich go, and in the now -silent corridor the sound of several hands knocking at the front -door could be heard. - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -Pierre, having decided that until he had carried out his design he -would disclose neither his identity nor his knowledge of French, stood -at the half-open door of the corridor, intending to conceal himself as -soon as the French entered. But the French entered and still Pierre -did not retire- an irresistible curiosity kept him there. - -There were two of them. One was an officer- a tall, soldierly, -handsome man- the other evidently a private or an orderly, -sunburned, short, and thin, with sunken cheeks and a dull -expression. The officer walked in front, leaning on a stick and -slightly limping. When he had advanced a few steps he stopped, -having apparently decided that these were good quarters, turned -round to the soldiers standing at the entrance, and in a loud voice of -command ordered them to put up the horses. Having done that, the -officer, lifting his elbow with a smart gesture, stroked his -mustache and lightly touched his hat. - -"Bonjour, la compagnie!"~{ "Good day, everybody!" }~ said he gaily, smiling and looking about -him. - -No one gave any reply. - -"Vous etes le bourgeois?"~{ "Are you the master here?" }~ the officer asked Gerasim. - -Gerasim gazed at the officer with an alarmed and inquiring look. - -"Quartier, quartier, logement!" said the officer, looking down at -the little man with a condescending and good-natured smile. "Les -francais sont de bons enfants. Que diable! Voyons! Ne nous fachons -pas, mon vieux!"~{ "Quarters, quarters, lodgings! The French are good fellows. What -the devil! There, don't let us be cross, old fellow!" }~ added he, clapping the scared and silent Gerasim -on the shoulder. "Well, does no one speak French in this -establishment?" he asked again in French, looking around and meeting -Pierre's eyes. Pierre moved away from the door. - -Again the officer turned to Gerasim and asked him to show him the -rooms in the house. - -"Master, not here- don't understand... me, you..." said Gerasim, -trying to render his words more comprehensible by contorting them. - -Still smiling, the French officer spread out his hands before -Gerasim's nose, intimating that he did not understand him either, -and moved, limping, to the door at which Pierre was standing. Pierre -wished to go away and conceal himself, but at that moment he saw Makar -Alexeevich appearing at the open kitchen door with the pistol in his -hand. With a madman's cunning, Makar Alexeevich eyed the Frenchman, -raised his pistol, and took aim. - -"Board them!" yelled the tipsy man, trying to press the trigger. -Hearing the yell the officer turned round, and at the same moment -Pierre threw himself on the drunkard. Just when Pierre snatched at and -struck up the pistol Makar Alexeevich at last got his fingers on the -trigger, there was a deafening report, and all were enveloped in a -cloud of smoke. The Frenchman turned pale and rushed to the door. - -Forgetting his intention of concealing his knowledge of French, -Pierre, snatching away the pistol and throwing it down, ran up to -the officer and addressed him in French. - -"You are not wounded?" he asked. - -"I think not," answered the Frenchman, feeling himself over. "But -I have had a lucky escape this time," he added, pointing to the -damaged plaster of the wall. "Who is that man?" said he, looking -sternly at Pierre. - -"Oh, I am really in despair at what has occurred," said Pierre -rapidly, quite forgetting the part he had intended to play. "He is -an unfortunate madman who did not know what he was doing." - -The officer went up to Makar Alexeevich and took him by the collar. - -Makar Alexeevich was standing with parted lips, swaying, as if about -to fall asleep, as he leaned against the wall. - -"Brigand! You shall pay for this," said the Frenchman, letting go of -him. "We French are merciful after victory, but we do not pardon -traitors," he added, with a look of gloomy dignity and a fine -energetic gesture. - -Pierre continued, in French, to persuade the officer not to hold -that drunken imbecile to account. The Frenchman listened in silence -with the same gloomy expression, but suddenly turned to Pierre with -a smile. For a few seconds he looked at him in silence. His handsome -face assumed a melodramatically gentle expression and he held out -his hand. - -"You have saved my life. You are French," said he. - -For a Frenchman that deduction was indubitable. Only a Frenchman -could perform a great deed, and to save his life- the life of M. -Ramballe, captain of the 13th Light Regiment- was undoubtedly a very -great deed. - -But however indubitable that conclusion and the officer's conviction -based upon it, Pierre felt it necessary to disillusion him. - -"I am Russian," he said quickly. - -"Tut, tut, tut! Tell that to others," said the officer, waving his -finger before his nose and smiling. "You shall tell me all about -that presently. I am delighted to meet a compatriot. Well, and what -are we to do with this man?" he added, addressing himself to Pierre as -to a brother. - -Even if Pierre were not a Frenchman, having once received that -loftiest of human appellations he could not renounce it, said the -officer's look and tone. In reply to his last question Pierre again -explained who Makar Alexeevich was and how just before their arrival -that drunken imbecile had seized the loaded pistol which they had -not had time to recover from him, and begged the officer to let the -deed go unpunished. - -The Frenchman expanded his chest and made a majestic gesture with -his arm. - -"You have saved my life! You are French. You ask his pardon? I grant -it you. Lead that man away!" said he quickly and energetically, and -taking the arm of Pierre whom he had promoted to be a Frenchman for -saving his life, he went with him into the room. - -The soldiers in the yard, hearing the shot, came into the passage -asking what had happened, and expressed their readiness to punish -the culprits, but the officer sternly checked them. - -"You will be called in when you are wanted," he said. - -The soldiers went out again, and the orderly, who had meanwhile -had time to visit the kitchen, came up to his officer. - -"Captain, there is soup and a leg of mutton in the kitchen," said -he. "Shall I serve them up?" - -"Yes, and some wine," answered the captain. - -CHAPTER XXIX - -When the French officer went into the room with Pierre the latter -again thought it his duty to assure him that he was not French and -wished to go away, but the officer would not hear of it. He was so -very polite, amiable, good-natured, and genuinely grateful to Pierre -for saving his life that Pierre had not the heart to refuse, and sat -down with him in the parlor- the first room they entered. To -Pierre's assurances that he was not a Frenchman, the captain, -evidently not understanding how anyone could decline so flattering -an appellation, shrugged his shoulders and said that if Pierre -absolutely insisted on passing for a Russian let it be so, but for all -that he would be forever bound to Pierre by gratitude for saving his -life. - -Had this man been endowed with the slightest capacity for perceiving -the feelings of others, and had he at all understood what Pierre's -feelings were, the latter would probably have left him, but the -man's animated obtuseness to everything other than himself disarmed -Pierre. - -"A Frenchman or a Russian prince incognito," said the officer, -looking at Pierre's fine though dirty linen and at the ring on his -finger. "I owe my life to you and offer you my friendship. A Frenchman -never forgets either an insult or a service. I offer you my -friendship. That is all I can say." - -There was so much good nature and nobility (in the French sense of -the word) in the officer's voice, in the expression of his face and in -his gestures, that Pierre, unconsciously smiling in response to the -Frenchman's smile, pressed the hand held out to him. - -"Captain Ramballe, of the 13th Light Regiment, Chevalier of the -Legion of Honor for the affair on the seventh of September," he -introduced himself, a self-satisfied irrepressible smile puckering his -lips under his mustache. "Will you now be so good as to tell me with -whom I have the honor of conversing so pleasantly, instead of being in -the ambulance with that maniac's bullet in my body?" - -Pierre replied that he could not tell him his name and, blushing, -began to try to invent a name and to say something about his reason -for concealing it, but the Frenchman hastily interrupted him. - -"Oh, please!" said he. "I understand your reasons. You are an -officer... a superior officer perhaps. You have borne arms against us. -That's not my business. I owe you my life. That is enough for me. I am -quite at your service. You belong to the gentry?" he concluded with -a shade of inquiry in his tone. Pierre bent his head. "Your -baptismal name, if you please. That is all I ask. Monsieur Pierre, you -say.... That's all I want to know." - -When the mutton and an omelet had been served and a samovar and -vodka brought, with some wine which the French had taken from a -Russian cellar and brought with them, Ramballe invited Pierre to share -his dinner, and himself began to eat greedily and quickly like a -healthy and hungry man, munching his food rapidly with his strong -teeth, continually smacking his lips, and repeating- "Excellent! -Delicious!" His face grew red and was covered with perspiration. -Pierre was hungry and shared the dinner with pleasure. Morel, the -orderly, brought some hot water in a saucepan and placed a bottle of -claret in it. He also brought a bottle of kvass, taken from the -kitchen for them to try. That beverage was already known to the French -and had been given a special name. They called it limonade de cochon -(pig's lemonade), and Morel spoke well of the limonade de cochon he -had found in the kitchen. But as the captain had the wine they had -taken while passing through Moscow, he left the kvass to Morel and -applied himself to the bottle of Bordeaux. He wrapped the bottle up to -its neck in a table napkin and poured out wine for himself and for -Pierre. The satisfaction of his hunger and the wine rendered the -captain still more lively and he chatted incessantly all through -dinner. - -"Yes, my dear Monsieur Pierre, I owe you a fine votive candle for -saving me from that maniac.... You see, I have bullets enough in my -body already. Here is one I got at Wagram" (he touched his side) -"and a second at Smolensk"- he showed a scar on his cheek- "and this -leg which as you see does not want to march, I got that on the seventh -at the great battle of la Moskowa. Sacre Dieu! It was splendid! That -deluge of fire was worth seeing. It was a tough job you set us -there, my word! You may be proud of it! And on my honor, in spite of -the cough I caught there, I should be ready to begin again. I pity -those who did not see it." - -"I was there," said Pierre. - -"Bah, really? So much the better! You are certainly brave foes. -The great redoubt held out well, by my pipe!" continued the Frenchman. -"And you made us pay dear for it. I was at it three times- sure as I -sit here. Three times we reached the guns and three times we were -thrown back like cardboard figures. Oh, it was beautiful, Monsieur -Pierre! Your grenadiers were splendid, by heaven! I saw them close -up their ranks six times in succession and march as if on parade. Fine -fellows! Our King of Naples, who knows what's what, cried 'Bravo!' Ha, -ha! So you are one of us soldiers!" he added, smiling, after a -momentary pause. "So much the better, so much the better, Monsieur -Pierre! Terrible in battle... gallant... with the fair" (he winked and -smiled), "that's what the French are, Monsieur Pierre, aren't they?" - -The captain was so naively and good-humoredly gay, so real, and so -pleased with himself that Pierre almost winked back as he looked -merrily at him. Probably the word "gallant" turned the captain's -thoughts to the state of Moscow. - -"Apropos, tell me please, is it true that the women have all left -Moscow? What a queer idea! What had they to be afraid of?" - -"Would not the French ladies leave Paris if the Russians entered -it?" asked Pierre. - -"Ha, ha, ha!" The Frenchman emitted a merry, sanguine chuckle, -patting Pierre on the shoulder. "What a thing to say!" he exclaimed. -"Paris?... But Paris, Paris..." - -"Paris- the capital of the world," Pierre finished his remark for -him. - -The captain looked at Pierre. He had a habit of stopping short in -the middle of his talk and gazing intently with his laughing, kindly -eyes. - -"Well, if you hadn't told me you were Russian, I should have wagered -that you were Parisian! You have that... I don't know what, that..." -and having uttered this compliment, he again gazed at him in silence. - -"I have been in Paris. I spent years there," said Pierre. - -"Oh yes, one sees that plainly. Paris!... A man who doesn't know -Paris is a savage. You can tell a Parisian two leagues off. Paris is -Talma, la Duchenois, Potier, the Sorbonne, the boulevards," and -noticing that his conclusion was weaker than what had gone before, -he added quickly: "There is only one Paris in the world. You have been -to Paris and have remained Russian. Well, I don't esteem you the -less for it." - -Under the influence of the wine he had drunk, and after the days -he had spent alone with his depressing thoughts, Pierre -involuntarily enjoyed talking with this cheerful and good-natured man. - -"To return to your ladies- I hear they are lovely. What a wretched -idea to go and bury themselves in the steppes when the French army -is in Moscow. What a chance those girls have missed! Your peasants, -now- that's another thing; but you civilized people, you ought to know -us better than that. We took Vienna, Berlin, Madrid, Naples, Rome, -Warsaw, all the world's capitals.... We are feared, but we are -loved. We are nice to know. And then the Emperor..." he began, but -Pierre interrupted him. - -"The Emperor," Pierre repeated, and his face suddenly became sad and -embarrassed, "is the Emperor...?" - -"The Emperor? He is generosity, mercy, justice, order, genius- -that's what the Emperor is! It is I, Ramballe, who tell you so.... I -assure you I was his enemy eight years ago. My father was an -emigrant count.... But that man has vanquished me. He has taken hold -of me. I could not resist the sight of the grandeur and glory with -which he has covered France. When I understood what he wanted- when -I saw that he was preparing a bed of laurels for us, you know, I -said to myself: 'That is a monarch,' and I devoted myself to him! So -there! Oh yes, mon cher, he is the greatest man of the ages past or -future." - -"Is he in Moscow?" Pierre stammered with a guilty look. - -The Frenchman looked at his guilty face and smiled. - -"No, he will make his entry tomorrow," he replied, and continued his -talk. - -Their conversation was interrupted by the cries of several voices at -the gate and by Morel, who came to say that some Wurttemberg hussars -had come and wanted to put up their horses in the yard where the -captain's horses were. This difficulty had arisen chiefly because -the hussars did not understand what was said to them in French. - -The captain had their senior sergeant called in, and in a stern -voice asked him to what regiment he belonged, who was his commanding -officer, and by what right he allowed himself to claim quarters that -were already occupied. The German who knew little French, answered the -two first questions by giving the names of his regiment and of his -commanding officer, but in reply to the third question which he did -not understand said, introducing broken French into his own German, -that he was the quartermaster of the regiment and his commander had -ordered him to occupy all the houses one after another. Pierre, who -knew German, translated what the German said to the captain and gave -the captain's reply to the Wurttemberg hussar in German. When he had -understood what was said to him, the German submitted and took his men -elsewhere. The captain went out into the porch and gave some orders in -a loud voice. - -When he returned to the room Pierre was sitting in the same place as -before, with his head in his hands. His face expressed suffering. He -really was suffering at that moment. When the captain went out and -he was left alone, suddenly he came to himself and realized the -position he was in. It was not that Moscow had been taken or that -the happy conquerors were masters in it and were patronizing him. -Painful as that was it was not that which tormented Pierre at the -moment. He was tormented by the consciousness of his own weakness. The -few glasses of wine he had drunk and the conversation with this -good-natured man had destroyed the mood of concentrated gloom in which -he had spent the last few days and which was essential for the -execution of his design. The pistol, dagger, and peasant coat were -ready. Napoleon was to enter the town next day. Pierre still -considered that it would be a useful and worthy action to slay the -evildoer, but now he felt that he would not do it. He did not know -why, but he felt a foreboding that he would not carry out his -intention. He struggled against the confession of his weakness but -dimly felt that he could not overcome it and that his former gloomy -frame of mind, concerning vengeance, killing, and self-sacrifice, -had been dispersed like dust by contact with the first man he met. - -The captain returned to the room, limping slightly and whistling a -tune. - -The Frenchman's chatter which had previously amused Pierre now -repelled him. The tune he was whistling, his gait, and the gesture -with which he twirled his mustache, all now seemed offensive. "I -will go away immediately. I won't say another word to him," thought -Pierre. He thought this, but still sat in the same place. A strange -feeling of weakness tied him to the spot; he wished to get up and go -away, but could not do so. - -The captain, on the other hand, seemed very cheerful. He paced up -and down the room twice. His eyes shone and his mustache twitched as -if he were smiling to himself at some amusing thought. - -"The colonel of those Wurttembergers is delightful," he suddenly -said. "He's a German, but a nice fellow all the same.... But he's a -German." He sat down facing Pierre. "By the way, you know German, -then?" - -Pierre looked at him in silence. - -"What is the German for 'shelter'?" - -"Shelter?" Pierre repeated. "The German for shelter is Unterkunft." - -"How do you say it?" the captain asked quickly and doubtfully. - -"Unterkunft," Pierre repeated. - -"Onterkoff," said the captain and looked at Pierre for some -seconds with laughing eyes. "These Germans are first-rate fools, don't -you think so, Monsieur Pierre?" he concluded. - -"Well, let's have another bottle of this Moscow Bordeaux, shall -we? Morel will warm us up another little bottle. Morel!" he called out -gaily. - -Morel brought candles and a bottle of wine. The captain looked at -Pierre by the candlelight and was evidently struck by the troubled -expression on his companion's face. Ramballe, with genuine distress -and sympathy in his face, went up to Pierre and bent over him. - -"There now, we're sad," said he, touching Pierre's hand. "Have I -upset you? No, really, have you anything against me?" he asked Pierre. -"Perhaps it's the state of affairs?" - -Pierre did not answer, but looked cordially into the Frenchman's -eyes whose expression of sympathy was pleasing to him. - -"Honestly, without speaking of what I owe you, I feel friendship for -you. Can I do anything for you? Dispose of me. It is for life and -death. I say it with my hand on my heart!" said he, striking his -chest. - -"Thank you," said Pierre. - -The captain gazed intently at him as he had done when he learned -that "shelter" was Unterkunft in German, and his face suddenly -brightened. - -"Well, in that case, I drink to our friendship!" he cried gaily, -filling two glasses with wine. - -Pierre took one of the glasses and emptied it. Ramballe emptied -his too, again pressed Pierre's hand, and leaned his elbows on the -table in a pensive attitude. - -"Yes, my dear friend," he began, "such is fortune's caprice. Who -would have said that I should be a soldier and a captain of dragoons -in the service of Bonaparte, as we used to call him? Yet here I am -in Moscow with him. I must tell you, mon cher," he continued in the -sad and measured tones of a man who intends to tell a long story, -"that our name is one of the most ancient in France." - -And with a Frenchman's easy and naive frankness the captain told -Pierre the story of his ancestors, his childhood, youth, and -manhood, and all about his relations and his financial and family -affairs, "ma pauvre mere" playing of course an important part in the -story. - -"But all that is only life's setting, the real thing is love- -love! Am I not right, Monsieur Pierre?" said he, growing animated. -"Another glass?" - -Pierre again emptied his glass and poured himself out a third. - -"Oh, women, women!" and the captain, looking with glistening eyes at -Pierre, began talking of love and of his love affairs. - -There were very many of these, as one could easily believe, -looking at the officer's handsome, self-satisfied face, and noting the -eager enthusiasm with which he spoke of women. Though all Ramballe's -love stories had the sensual character which Frenchmen regard as the -special charm and poetry of love, yet he told his story with such -sincere conviction that he alone had experienced and known all the -charm of love and he described women so alluringly that Pierre -listened to him with curiosity. - -It was plain that l'amour which the Frenchman was so fond of was not -that low and simple kind that Pierre had once felt for his wife, nor -was it the romantic love stimulated by himself that he experienced for -Natasha. (Ramballe despised both these kinds of love equally: the -one he considered the "love of clodhoppers" and the other the "love of -simpletons.") L'amour which the Frenchman worshiped consisted -principally in the unnaturalness of his relation to the woman and in a -combination of incongruities giving the chief charm to the feeling. - -Thus the captain touchingly recounted the story of his love for a -fascinating marquise of thirty-five and at the same time for a -charming, innocent child of seventeen, daughter of the bewitching -marquise. The conflict of magnanimity between the mother and the -daughter, ending in the mother's sacrificing herself and offering -her daughter in marriage to her lover, even now agitated the -captain, though it was the memory of a distant past. Then he recounted -an episode in which the husband played the part of the lover, and -he- the lover- assumed the role of the husband, as well as several -droll incidents from his recollections of Germany, where "shelter" -is called Unterkunft and where the husbands eat sauerkraut and the -young girls are "too blonde." - -Finally, the latest episode in Poland still fresh in the captain's -memory, and which he narrated with rapid gestures and glowing face, -was of how he had saved the life of a Pole (in general, the saving -of life continually occurred in the captain's stories) and the Pole -had entrusted to him his enchanting wife (parisienne de coeur) while -himself entering the French service. The captain was happy, the -enchanting Polish lady wished to elope with him, but, prompted by -magnanimity, the captain restored the wife to the husband, saying as -he did so: "I have saved your life, and I save your honor!" Having -repeated these words the captain wiped his eyes and gave himself a -shake, as if driving away the weakness which assailed him at this -touching recollection. - -Listening to the captain's tales, Pierre- as often happens late in -the evening and under the influence of wine- followed all that was -told him, understood it all, and at the same time followed a train -of personal memories which, he knew not why, suddenly arose in his -mind. While listening to these love stories his own love for Natasha -unexpectedly rose to his mind, and going over the pictures of that -love in his imagination he mentally compared them with Ramballe's -tales. Listening to the story of the struggle between love and duty, -Pierre saw before his eyes every minutest detail of his last meeting -with the object of his love at the Sukharev water tower. At the time -of that meeting it had not produced an effect upon him- he had not -even once recalled it. But now it seemed to him that that meeting -had had in it something very important and poetic. - -"Peter Kirilovich, come here! We have recognized you," he now seemed -to hear the words she had uttered and to see before him her eyes, -her smile, her traveling hood, and a stray lock of her hair... and -there seemed to him something pathetic and touching in all this. - -Having finished his tale about the enchanting Polish lady, the -captain asked Pierre if he had ever experienced a similar impulse to -sacrifice himself for love and a feeling of envy of the legitimate -husband. - -Challenged by this question Pierre raised his head and felt a need -to express the thoughts that filled his mind. He began to explain that -he understood love for a women somewhat differently. He said that in -all his life he had loved and still loved only one woman, and that she -could never be his. - -"Tiens!" said the captain. - -Pierre then explained that he had loved this woman from his earliest -years, but that he had not dared to think of her because she was too -young, and because he had been an illegitimate son without a name. -Afterwards when he had received a name and wealth he dared not think -of her because he loved her too well, placing her far above everything -in the world, and especially therefore above himself. - -When he had reached this point, Pierre asked the captain whether -he understood that. - -The captain made a gesture signifying that even if he did not -understand it he begged Pierre to continue. - -"Platonic love, clouds..." he muttered. - -Whether it was the wine he had drunk, or an impulse of frankness, or -the thought that this man did not, and never would, know any of -those who played a part in his story, or whether it was all these -things together, something loosened Pierre's tongue. Speaking -thickly and with a faraway look in his shining eyes, he told the whole -story of his life: his marriage, Natasha's love for his best friend, -her betrayal of him, and all his own simple relations with her. -Urged on by Ramballe's questions he also told what he had at first -concealed- his own position and even his name. - -More than anything else in Pierre's story the captain was -impressed by the fact that Pierre was very rich, had two mansions in -Moscow, and that he had abandoned everything and not left the city, -but remained there concealing his name and station. - -When it was late at night they went out together into the street. -The night was warm and light. To the left of the house on the Pokrovka -a fire glowed- the first of those that were beginning in Moscow. To -the right and high up in the sky was the sickle of the waning moon and -opposite to it hung that bright comet which was connected in -Pierre's heart with his love. At the gate stood Gerasim, the cook, and -two Frenchmen. Their laughter and their mutually incomprehensible -remarks in two languages could be heard. They were looking at the glow -seen in the town. - -There was nothing terrible in the one small, distant fire in the -immense city. - -Gazing at the high starry sky, at the moon, at the comet, and at the -glow from the fire, Pierre experienced a joyful emotion. "There now, -how good it is, what more does one need?" thought he. And suddenly -remembering his intention he grew dizzy and felt so faint that he -leaned against the fence to save himself from falling. - -Without taking leave of his new friend, Pierre left the gate with -unsteady steps and returning to his room lay down on the sofa and -immediately fell asleep. - -CHAPTER XXX - -The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September was -watched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by the -retreating troops, with many different feelings. - -The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles from -Moscow. They had started so late on the first of September, the road -had been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had been -forgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decided -to spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The next -morning they woke late and were again delayed so often that they -only got as far as Great Mytishchi. At ten o'clock that evening the -Rostov family and the wounded traveling with them were all distributed -in the yards and huts of that large village. The Rostovs' servants and -coachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending to -their masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into the -porches. - -In a neighboring hut lay Raevski's adjutant with a fractured -wrist. The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly and -piteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of the -autumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as the -Rostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes on -account of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hut -simply to be farther away from the wounded man. - -In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, above -the high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glow -of another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knew -that it was Little Mytishchi burning- set on fire by Mamonov's -Cossacks. - -"But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked an -orderly. - -All turned their attention to the glow. - -"But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov's -Cossacks." - -"But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away." - -"Look, it must be in Moscow!" - -Two of the gazers went round to the other side of the coach and -sat down on its steps. - -"It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and -this is right on the other side." - -Several men joined the first two. - -"See how it's flaring," said one. "That's a fire in Moscow: either -in the Sushchevski or the Rogozhski quarter." - -No one replied to this remark and for some time they all gazed -silently at the spreading flames of the second fire in the distance. - -Old Daniel Terentich, the count's valet (as he was called), came -up to the group and shouted at Mishka. - -"What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?... The count will be -calling and there's nobody there; go and gather the clothes together." - -"I only ran out to get some water," said Mishka. - -"But what do you think, Daniel Terentich? Doesn't it look as if that -glow were in Moscow?" remarked one of the footmen. - -Daniel Terentich made no reply, and again for a long time they -were all silent. The glow spread, rising and failing, farther and -farther still. - -"God have mercy.... It's windy and dry..." said another voice. - -"Just look! See what it's doing now. O Lord! You can even see the -crows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!" - -"They'll put it out, no fear!" - -"Who's to put it out?" Daniel Terentich, who had hitherto been -silent, was heard to say. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Moscow -it is, brothers," said he. "Mother Moscow, the white..." his voice -faltered, and he gave way to an old man's sob. - -And it was as if they had all only waited for this to realize the -significance for them of the glow they were watching. Sighs were -heard, words of prayer, and the sobbing of the count's old valet. - -CHAPTER XXXI - -The valet, returning to the cottage, informed the count that -Moscow was burning. The count donned his dressing gown and went out to -look. Sonya and Madame Schoss, who had not yet undressed, went out -with him. Only Natasha and the countess remained in the room. Petya -was no longer with the family, he had gone on with his regiment -which was making for Troitsa. - -The countess, on hearing that Moscow was on fire, began to cry. -Natasha, pale, with a fixed look, was sitting on the bench under the -icons just where she had sat down on arriving and paid no attention to -her father's words. She was listening to the ceaseless moaning of -the adjutant, three houses off. - -"Oh, how terrible," said Sonya returning from the yard chilled and -frightened. "I believe the whole of Moscow will burn, there's an awful -glow! Natasha, do look! You can see it from the window," she said to -her cousin, evidently wishing to distract her mind. - -But Natasha looked at her as if not understanding what was said to -her and again fixed her eyes on the corner of the stove. She had -been in this condition of stupor since the morning, when Sonya, to the -surprise and annoyance of the countess, had for some unaccountable -reason found it necessary to tell Natasha of Prince Andrew's wound and -of his being with their party. The countess had seldom been so angry -with anyone as she was with Sonya. Sonya had cried and begged to be -forgiven and now, as if trying to atone for her fault, paid -unceasing attention to her cousin. - -"Look, Natasha, how dreadfully it is burning!" said she. - -"What's burning?" asked Natasha. "Oh, yes, Moscow." - -And as if in order not to offend Sonya and to get rid of her, she -turned her face to the window, looked out in such a way that it was -evident that she could not see anything, and again settled down in her -former attitude. - -"But you didn't see it!" - -"Yes, really I did," Natasha replied in a voice that pleaded to be -left in peace. - -Both the countess and Sonya understood that, naturally, neither -Moscow nor the burning of Moscow nor anything else could seem of -importance to Natasha. - -The count returned and lay down behind the partition. The countess -went up to her daughter and touched her head with the back of her hand -as she was wont to do when Natasha was ill, then touched her -forehead with her lips as if to feel whether she was feverish, and -finally kissed her. - -"You are cold. You are trembling all over. You'd better lie down," -said the countess. - -"Lie down? All right, I will. I'll lie down at once," said Natasha. - -When Natasha had been told that morning that Prince Andrew was -seriously wounded and was traveling with their party, she had at first -asked many questions: Where was he going? How was he wounded? Was it -serious? And could she see him? But after she had been told that she -could not see him, that he was seriously wounded but that his life was -not in danger, she ceased to ask questions or to speak at all, -evidently disbelieving what they told her, and convinced that say what -she might she would still be told the same. All the way she had sat -motionless in a corner of the coach with wide open eyes, and the -expression in them which the countess knew so well and feared so much, -and now she sat in the same way on the bench where she had seated -herself on arriving. She was planning something and either deciding or -had already decided something in her mind. The countess knew this, but -what it might be she did not know, and this alarmed and tormented her. - -"Natasha, undress, darling; lie down on my bed." - -A bed had been made on a bedstead for the countess only. Madame -Schoss and the two girls were to sleep on some hay on the floor. - -"No, Mamma, I will lie down here on the floor," Natasha replied -irritably and she went to the window and opened it. Through the open -window the moans of the adjutant could be heard more distinctly. She -put her head out into the damp night air, and the countess saw her -slim neck shaking with sobs and throbbing against the window frame. -Natasha knew it was not Prince Andrew who was moaning. She knew Prince -Andrew was in the same yard as themselves and in a part of the hut -across the passage; but this dreadful incessant moaning made her -sob. The countess exchanged a look with Sonya. - -"Lie down, darling; lie down, my pet," said the countess, softly -touching Natasha's shoulders. "Come, lie down." - -"Oh, yes... I'll lie down at once," said Natasha, and began -hurriedly undressing, tugging at the tapes of her petticoat. - -When she had thrown off her dress and put on a dressing jacket, -she sat down with her foot under her on the bed that had been made -up on the floor, jerked her thin and rather short plait of hair to the -front, and began replaiting it. Her long, thin, practiced fingers -rapidly unplaited, replaited, and tied up her plait. Her head moved -from side to side from habit, but her eyes, feverishly wide, looked -fixedly before her. When her toilet for the night was finished she -sank gently onto the sheet spread over the hay on the side nearest the -door. - -"Natasha, you'd better lie in the middle," said Sonya. - -"I'll stay here," muttered Natasha. "Do lie down," she added -crossly, and buried her face in the pillow. - -The countess, Madame Schoss, and Sonya undressed hastily and lay -down. The small lamp in front of the icons was the only light left -in the room. But in the yard there was a light from the fire at Little -Mytishchi a mile and a half away, and through the night came the noise -of people shouting at a tavern Mamonov's Cossacks had set up across -the street, and the adjutant's unceasing moans could still be heard. - -For a long time Natasha listened attentively to the sounds that -reached her from inside and outside the room and did not move. First -she heard her mother praying and sighing and the creaking of her bed -under her, then Madame Schoss' familiar whistling snore and Sonya's -gentle breathing. Then the countess called to Natasha. Natasha did not -answer. - -"I think she's asleep, Mamma," said Sonya softly. - -After short silence the countess spoke again but this time no one -replied. - -Soon after that Natasha heard her mother's even breathing. Natasha -did not move, though her little bare foot, thrust out from under the -quilt, was growing cold on the bare floor. - -As if to celebrate a victory over everybody, a cricket chirped in -a crack in the wall. A cock crowed far off and another replied near -by. The shouting in the tavern had died down; only the moaning of -the adjutant was heard. Natasha sat up. - -"Sonya, are you asleep? Mamma?" she whispered. - -No one replied. Natasha rose slowly and carefully, crossed -herself, and stepped cautiously on the cold and dirty floor with her -slim, supple, bare feet. The boards of the floor creaked. Stepping -cautiously from one foot to the other she ran like a kitten the few -steps to the door and grasped the cold door handle. - -It seemed to her that something heavy was beating rhythmically -against all the walls of the room: it was her own heart, sinking -with alarm and terror and overflowing with love. - -She opened the door and stepped across the threshold and onto the -cold, damp earthen floor of the passage. The cold she felt refreshed -her. With her bare feet she touched a sleeping man, stepped over -him, and opened the door into the part of the hut where Prince -Andrew lay. It was dark in there. In the farthest corner, on a bench -beside a bed on which something was lying, stood a tallow candle -with a long, thick, and smoldering wick. - -From the moment she had been told that of Prince Andrew's wound -and his presence there, Natasha had resolved to see him. She did not -know why she had to, she knew the meeting would be painful, but felt -the more convinced that it was necessary. - -All day she had lived only in hope of seeing him that night. But now -that the moment had come she was filled with dread of what she might -see. How was he maimed? What was left of him? Was he like that -incessant moaning of the adjutant's? Yes, he was altogether like that. -In her imagination he was that terrible moaning personified. When -she saw an indistinct shape in the corner, and mistook his knees -raised under the quilt for his shoulders, she imagined a horrible body -there, and stood still in terror. But an irresistible impulse drew her -forward. She cautiously took one step and then another, and found -herself in the middle of a small room containing baggage. Another man- -Timokhin- was lying in a corner on the benches beneath the icons, -and two others- the doctor and a valet- lay on the floor. - -The valet sat up and whispered something. Timokhin, kept awake by -the pain in his wounded leg, gazed with wide-open eyes at this strange -apparition of a girl in a white chemise, dressing jacket, and -nightcap. The valet's sleepy, frightened exclamation, "What do you -want? What's the matter?" made Natasha approach more swiftly to what -was lying in the corner. Horribly unlike a man as that body looked, -she must see him. She passed the valet, the snuff fell from the candle -wick, and she saw Prince Andrew clearly with his arms outside the -quilt, and such as she had always seen him. - -He was the same as ever, but the feverish color of his face, his -glittering eyes rapturously turned toward her, and especially his -neck, delicate as a child's, revealed by the turn-down collar of his -shirt, gave him a peculiarly innocent, childlike look, such as she had -never seen on him before. She went up to him and with a swift, -flexible, youthful movement dropped on her knees. - -He smiled and held out his hand to her. - -CHAPTER XXXII - -Seven days had passed since Prince Andrew found himself in the -ambulance station on the field of Borodino. His feverish state and the -inflammation of his bowels, which were injured, were in the doctor's -opinion sure to carry him off. But on the seventh day he ate with -pleasure a piece of bread with some tea, and the doctor noticed that -his temperature was lower. He had regained consciousness that morning. -The first night after they left Moscow had been fairly warm and he had -remained in the caleche, but at Mytishchi the wounded man himself -asked to be taken out and given some tea. The pain caused by his -removal into the hut had made him groan aloud and again lose -consciousness. When he had been placed on his camp bed he lay for a -long time motionless with closed eyes. Then he opened them and -whispered softly: "And the tea?" His remembering such a small detail -of everyday life astonished the doctor. He felt Prince Andrew's pulse, -and to his surprise and dissatisfaction found it had improved. He -was dissatisfied because he knew by experience that if his patient did -not die now, he would do so a little later with greater suffering. -Timokhin, the red-nosed major of Prince Andrew's regiment, had -joined him in Moscow and was being taken along with him, having been -wounded in the leg at the battle of Borodino. They were accompanied by -a doctor, Prince Andrew's valet, his coach. man, and two orderlies. - -They gave Prince Andrew some tea. He drank it eagerly, looking -with feverish eyes at the door in front of him as if trying to -understand and remember something. - -"I don't want any more. Is Timokhin here?" he asked. - -Timokhin crept along the bench to him. - -"I am here, your excellency." - -"How's your wound?" - -"Mine, sir? All right. But how about you?" - -Prince Andrew again pondered as if trying to remember something. - -"Couldn't one get a book?" he asked. - -"What book?" - -"The Gospels. I haven't one." - -The doctor promised to procure it for him and began to ask how he -was feeling. Prince Andrew answered all his questions reluctantly -but reasonably, and then said he wanted a bolster placed under him -as he was uncomfortable and in great pain. The doctor and valet lifted -the cloak with which he was covered and, making wry faces at the -noisome smell of mortifying flesh that came from the wound, began -examining that dreadful place. The doctor was very much displeased -about something and made a change in the dressings, turning the -wounded man over so that he groaned again and grew unconscious and -delirious from the agony. He kept asking them to get him the book -and put it under him. - -"What trouble would it be to you?" he said. "I have not got one. -Please get it for me and put it under for a moment," he pleaded in a -piteous voice. - -The doctor went into the passage to wash his hands. - -"You fellows have no conscience," said he to the valet who was -pouring water over his hands. "For just one moment I didn't look after -you... It's such pain, you know, that I wonder how he can bear it." - -"By the Lord Jesus Christ, I thought we had put something under -him!" said the valet. - -The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was -the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he -asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at -Mytishchi. After growing confused from pain while being carried into -the hut he again regained consciousness, and while drinking tea once -more recalled all that had happened to him, and above all vividly -remembered the moment at the ambulance station when, at the sight of -the sufferings of a man he disliked, those new thoughts had come to -him which promised him happiness. And those thoughts, though now vague -and indefinite, again possessed his soul. He remembered that he had -now a new source of happiness and that this happiness had something to -do with the Gospels. That was why he asked for a copy of them. The -uncomfortable position in which they had put him and turned him over -again confused his thoughts, and when he came to himself a third -time it was in the complete stillness of the night. Everybody near him -was sleeping. A cricket chirped from across the passage; someone was -shouting and singing in the street; cockroaches rustled on the -table, on the icons, and on the walls, and a big fly flopped at the -head of the bed and around the candle beside him, the wick of which -was charred and had shaped itself like a mushroom. - -His mind was not in a normal state. A healthy man usually thinks of, -feels, and remembers innumerable things simultaneously, but has the -power and will to select one sequence of thoughts or events on which -to fix his whole attention. A healthy man can tear himself away from -the deepest reflections to say a civil word to someone who comes in -and can then return again to his own thoughts. But Prince Andrew's -mind was not in a normal state in that respect. All the powers of -his mind were more active and clearer than ever, but they acted -apart from his will. Most diverse thoughts and images occupied him -simultaneously. At times his brain suddenly began to work with a -vigor, clearness, and depth it had never reached when he was in -health, but suddenly in the midst of its work it would turn to some -unexpected idea and he had not the strength to turn it back again. - -"Yes, a new happiness was revealed to me of which man cannot be -deprived," he thought as he lay in the semi-darkness of the quiet hut, -gazing fixedly before him with feverish wide open eyes. "A happiness -lying beyond material forces, outside the material influences that act -on man- a happiness of the soul alone, the happiness of loving. -Every man can understand it, but to conceive it and enjoin it was -possible only for God. But how did God enjoin that law? And why was -the Son...?" - -And suddenly the sequence of these thoughts broke off, and Prince -Andrew heard (without knowing whether it was a delusion or reality) -a soft whispering voice incessantly and rhythmically repeating -"piti-piti-piti," and then "titi," and then again "piti-piti-piti," -and "ti-ti" once more. At the same time he felt that above his face, -above the very middle of it, some strange airy structure was being -erected out of slender needles or splinters, to the sound of this -whispered music. He felt that he had to balance carefully (though it -was difficult) so that this airy structure should not collapse; but -nevertheless it kept collapsing and again slowly rising to the sound -of whispered rhythmic music- "it stretches, stretches, spreading out -and stretching," said Prince Andrew to himself. While listening to -this whispering and feeling the sensation of this drawing out and -the construction of this edifice of needles, he also saw by glimpses a -red halo round the candle, and heard the rustle of the cockroaches and -the buzzing of the fly that flopped against his pillow and his face. -Each time the fly touched his face it gave him a burning sensation and -yet to his surprise it did not destroy the structure, though it -knocked against the very region of his face where it was rising. But -besides this there was something else of importance. It was -something white by the door- the statue of a sphinx, which also -oppressed him. - -"But perhaps that's my shirt on the table," he thought, "and -that's my legs, and that is the door, but why is it always -stretching and drawing itself out, and 'piti-piti-piti' and 'ti-ti' -and 'piti-piti-piti'...? That's enough, please leave off!" Prince -Andrew painfully entreated someone. And suddenly thoughts and feelings -again swam to the surface of his mind with peculiar clearness and -force. - -"Yes- love," he thought again quite clearly. "But not love which -loves for something, for some quality, for some purpose, or for some -reason, but the love which I- while dying- first experienced when I -saw my enemy and yet loved him. I experienced that feeling of love -which is the very essence of the soul and does not require an -object. Now again I feel that bliss. To love one's neighbors, to -love one's enemies, to love everything, to love God in all His -manifestations. It is possible to love someone dear to you with -human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love. That is why -I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man. What has -become of him? Is he alive?... - -"When loving with human love one may pass from love to hatred, but -divine love cannot change. No, neither death nor anything else can -destroy it. It is the very essence of the soul. Yet how many people -have I hated in my life? And of them all, I loved and hated none as -I did her." And he vividly pictured to himself Natasha, not as he -had done in the past with nothing but her charms which gave him -delight, but for the first time picturing to himself her soul. And -he understood her feelings, her sufferings, shame, and remorse. He now -understood for the first time all the cruelty of his rejection of her, -the cruelty of his rupture with her. "If only it were possible for -me to see her once more! Just once, looking into those eyes to say..." - -"Piti-piti-piti and ti-ti and piti-piti-piti boom!" flopped the -fly... And his attention was suddenly carried into another world, a -world of reality and delirium in which something particular was -happening. In that world some structure was still being erected and -did not fall, something was still stretching out, and the candle -with its red halo was still burning, and the same shirtlike sphinx lay -near the door; but besides all this something creaked, there was a -whiff of fresh air, and a new white sphinx appeared, standing at the -door. And that sphinx had the pale face and shining eyes of the very -Natasha of whom he had just been thinking. - -"Oh, how oppressive this continual delirium is," thought Prince -Andrew, trying to drive that face from his imagination. But the face -remained before him with the force of reality and drew nearer. -Prince Andrew wished to return that former world of pure thought, -but he could not, and delirium drew him back into its domain. The soft -whispering voice continued its rhythmic murmur, something oppressed -him and stretched out, and the strange face was before him. Prince -Andrew collected all his strength in an effort to recover his -senses, he moved a little, and suddenly there was a ringing in his -ears, a dimness in his eyes, and like a man plunged into water he lost -consciousness. When he came to himself, Natasha, that same living -Natasha whom of all people he most longed to love with this new pure -divine love that had been revealed to him, was kneeling before him. He -realized that it was the real living Natasha, and he was not surprised -but quietly happy. Natasha, motionless on her knees (she was unable to -stir), with frightened eyes riveted on him, was restraining her -sobs. Her face was pale and rigid. Only in the lower part of it -something quivered. - -Prince Andrew sighed with relief, smiled, and held out his hand. - -"You?" he said. "How fortunate!" - -With a rapid but careful movement Natasha drew nearer to him on -her knees and, taking his hand carefully, bent her face over it and -began kissing it, just touching it lightly with her lips. - -"Forgive me!" she whispered, raising her head and glancing at him. -"Forgive me!" - -"I love you," said Prince Andrew. - -"Forgive...!" - -"Forgive what?" he asked. - -"Forgive me for what I ha-ve do-ne!" faltered Natasha in a -scarcely audible, broken whisper, and began kissing his hand more -rapidly, just touching it with her lips. - -"I love you more, better than before," said Prince Andrew, lifting -her face with his hand so as to look into her eyes. - -Those eyes, filled with happy tears, gazed at him timidly, -compassionately, and with joyous love. Natasha's thin pale face, -with its swollen lips, was more than plain- it was dreadful. But -Prince Andrew did not see that, he saw her shining eyes which were -beautiful. They heard the sound of voices behind them. - -Peter the valet, who was now wide awake, had roused the doctor. -Timokhin, who had not slept at all because of the pain in his leg, had -long been watching all that was going on, carefully covering his -bare body with the sheet as he huddled up on his bench. - -"What's this?" said the doctor, rising from his bed. "Please go -away, madam!" - -At that moment a maid sent by the countess, who had noticed her -daughter's absence, knocked at the door. - -Like a somnambulist aroused from her sleep Natasha went out of the -room and, returning to her hut, fell sobbing on her bed. - -From that time, during all the rest of the Rostovs' journey, at -every halting place and wherever they spent a night, Natasha never -left the wounded Bolkonski, and the doctor had to admit that he had -not expected from a young girl either such firmness or such skill in -nursing a wounded man. - -Dreadful as the countess imagined it would be should Prince Andrew -die in her daughter's arms during the journey- as, judging by what the -doctor said, it seemed might easily happen- she could not oppose -Natasha. Though with the intimacy now established between the -wounded man and Natasha the thought occurred that should he recover -their former engagement would be renewed, no one- least of all Natasha -and Prince Andrew- spoke of this: the unsettled question of life and -death, which hung not only over Bolkonski but over all Russia, shut -out all other considerations. - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -On the third of September Pierre awoke late. His head was aching, -the clothes in which he had slept without undressing felt -uncomfortable on his body, and his mind had a dim consciousness of -something shameful he had done the day before. That something shameful -was his yesterday's conversation with Captain Ramballe. - -It was eleven by the clock, but it seemed peculiarly dark out of -doors. Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an -engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he -remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day. - -"Am I not too late?" he thought. "No, probably he won't make his -entry into Moscow before noon." - -Pierre did not allow himself to reflect on what lay before him, -but hastened to act. - -After arranging his clothes, he took the pistol and was about to -go out. But it then occurred to him for the first time that he -certainly could not carry the weapon in his hand through the -streets. It was difficult to hide such a big pistol even under his -wide coat. He could not carry it unnoticed in his belt or under his -arm. Besides, it had been discharged, and he had not had time to -reload it. "No matter, dagger will do," he said to himself, though -when planning his design he had more than once come to the -conclusion that the chief mistake made by the student in 1809 had been -to try to kill Napoleon with a dagger. But as his chief aim -consisted not in carrying out his design, but in proving to himself -that he would not abandon his intention and was doing all he could -to achieve it, Pierre hastily took the blunt jagged dagger in a -green sheath which he had bought at the Sukharev market with the -pistol, and hid it under his waistcoat. - -Having tied a girdle over his coat and pulled his cap low on his -head, Pierre went down the corridor, trying to avoid making a noise or -meeting the captain, and passed out into the street. - -The conflagration, at which he had looked with so much -indifference the evening before, had greatly increased during the -night. Moscow was on fire in several places. The buildings in Carriage -Row, across the river, in the Bazaar and the Povarskoy, as well as the -barges on the Moskva River and the timber yards by the Dorogomilov -Bridge, were all ablaze. - -Pierre's way led through side streets to the Povarskoy and from -there to the church of St. Nicholas on the Arbat, where he had long -before decided that the deed should should be done. The gates of -most of the houses were locked and the shutters up. The streets and -lanes were deserted. The air was full of smoke and the smell of -burning. Now and then he met Russians with anxious and timid faces, -and Frenchmen with an air not of the city but of the camp, walking -in the middle of the streets. Both the Russians and the French -looked at Pierre with surprise. Besides his height and stoutness, -and the strange morose look of suffering in his face and whole figure, -the Russians stared at Pierre because they could not make out to -what class he could belong. The French followed him with -astonishment in their eyes chiefly because Pierre, unlike all the -other Russians who gazed at the French with fear and curiosity, paid -no attention to them. At the gate of one house three Frenchmen, who -were explaining something to some Russians who did not understand -them, stopped Pierre asking if he did not know French. - -Pierre shook his head and went on. In another side street a sentinel -standing beside a green caisson shouted at him, but only when the -shout was threateningly repeated and he heard the click of the man's -musket as he raised it did Pierre understand that he had to pass on -the other side of the street. He heard nothing and saw nothing of what -went on around him. He carried his resolution within himself in terror -and haste, like something dreadful and alien to him, for, after the -previous night's experience, he was afraid of losing it. But he was -not destined to bring his mood safely to his destination. And even had -he not been hindered by anything on the way, his intention could not -now have been carried out, for Napoleon had passed the Arbat more than -four hours previously on his way from the Dorogomilov suburb to the -Kremlin, and was now sitting in a very gloomy frame of mind in a royal -study in the Kremlin, giving detailed and exact orders as to -measures to be taken immediately to extinguish the fire, to prevent -looting, and to reassure the inhabitants. But Pierre did not know -this; he was entirely absorbed in what lay before him, and was -tortured- as those are who obstinately undertake a task that is -impossible for them not because of its difficulty but because of its -incompatibility with their natures- by the fear of weakening at the -decisive moment and so losing his self-esteem. - -Though he heard and saw nothing around him he found his way by -instinct and did not go wrong in the side streets that led to the -Povarskoy. - -As Pierre approached that street the smoke became denser and denser- -he even felt the heat of the fire. Occasionally curly tongues of flame -rose from under the roofs of the houses. He met more people in the -streets and they were more excited. But Pierre, though he felt that -something unusual was happening around him, did not realize that he -was approaching the fire. As he was going along a foot path across a -wide-open space adjoining the Povarskoy on one side and the gardens of -Prince Gruzinski's house on the other, Pierre suddenly heard the -desperate weeping of a woman close to him. He stopped as if -awakening from a dream and lifted his head. - -By the side of the path, on the dusty dry grass, all sorts of -household goods lay in a heap: featherbeds, a samovar, icons, and -trunks. On the ground, beside the trunks, sat a thin woman no longer -young, with long, prominent upper teeth, and wearing a black cloak and -cap. This woman, swaying to and fro and muttering something, was -choking with sobs. Two girls of about ten and twelve, dressed in dirty -short frocks and cloaks, were staring at their mother with a look of -stupefaction on their pale frightened faces. The youngest child, a boy -of about seven, who wore an overcoat and an immense cap evidently -not his own, was crying in his old nurse's arms. A dirty, barefooted -maid was sitting on a trunk, and, having undone her pale-colored -plait, was pulling it straight and sniffing at her singed hair. The -woman's husband, a short, round-shouldered man in the undress -uniform of a civilian official, with sausage-shaped whiskers and -showing under his square-set cap the hair smoothly brushed forward -over his temples, with expressionless face was moving the trunks, -which were placed one on another, and was dragging some garments -from under them. - -As soon as she saw Pierre, the woman almost threw herself at his -feet. - -"Dear people, good Christians, save me, help me, dear friends... -help us, somebody," she muttered between her sobs. "My girl... My -daughter! My youngest daughter is left behind. She's burned! Ooh! -Was it for this I nursed you.... Ooh!" - -"Don't, Mary Nikolievna!" said her husband to her in a low voice, -evidently only to justify himself before the stranger. "Sister must -have taken her, or else where can she be?" he added. - -"Monster! Villain!" shouted the woman angrily, suddenly ceasing to -weep. "You have no heart, you don't feel for your own child! Another -man would have rescued her from the fire. But this is a monster and -neither a man nor a father! You, honored sir, are a noble man," she -went on, addressing Pierre rapidly between her sobs. "The fire broke -out alongside, and blew our way, the maid called out 'Fire!' and we -rushed to collect our things. We ran out just as we were.... This is -what we have brought away.... The icons, and my dowry bed, all the -rest is lost. We seized the children. But not Katie! Ooh! O -Lord!..." and again she began to sob. "My child, my dear one! -Burned, burned!" - -"But where was she left?" asked Pierre. - -From the expression of his animated face the woman saw that this man -might help her. - -"Oh, dear sir!" she cried, seizing him by the legs. "My -benefactor, set my heart at ease.... Aniska, go, you horrid girl, show -him the way!" she cried to the maid, angrily opening her mouth and -still farther exposing her long teeth. - -"Show me the way, show me, I... I'll do it," gasped Pierre rapidly. - -The dirty maidservant stepped from behind the trunk, put up her -plait, sighed, and went on her short, bare feet along the path. Pierre -felt as if he had come back to life after a heavy swoon. He held his -head higher, his eyes shone with the light of life, and with swift -steps he followed the maid, overtook her, and came out on the -Povarskoy. The whole street was full of clouds of black smoke. Tongues -of flame here and there broke through that cloud. A great number of -people crowded in front of the conflagration. In the middle of the -street stood a French general saying something to those around him. -Pierre, accompanied by the maid, was advancing to the spot where the -general stood, but the French soldiers stopped him. - -"On ne passe pas!"~{ "You can't pass! }~ cried a voice. - -"This way, uncle," cried the girl. "We'll pass through the side -street, by the Nikulins'!" - -Pierre turned back, giving a spring now and then to keep up with -her. She ran across the street, turned down a side street to the left, -and, passing three houses, turned into a yard on the right. - -"It's here, close by," said she and, running across the yard, opened -a gate in a wooden fence and, stopping, pointed out to him a small -wooden wing of the house, which was burning brightly and fiercely. One -of its sides had fallen in, another was on fire, and bright flames -issued from the openings of the windows and from under the roof. - -As Pierre passed through the fence gate, he was enveloped by hot air -and involuntarily stopped. - -"Which is it? Which is your house?" he asked. - -"Ooh!" wailed the girl, pointing to the wing. "That's it, that was -our lodging. You've burned to death, our treasure, Katie, my -precious little missy! Ooh!" lamented Aniska, who at the sight of -the fire felt that she too must give expression to her feelings. - -Pierre rushed to the wing, but the heat was so great that he -involuntarily passed round in a curve and came upon the large house -that was as yet burning only at one end, just below the roof, and -around which swarmed a crowd of Frenchmen. At first Pierre did not -realize what these men, who were dragging something out, were about; -but seeing before him a Frenchman hitting a peasant with a blunt saber -and trying to take from him a fox-fur coat, he vaguely understood that -looting was going on there, but he had no time to dwell on that idea. - -The sounds of crackling and the din of falling walls and ceilings, -the whistle and hiss of the flames, the excited shouts of the -people, and the sight of the swaying smoke, now gathering into thick -black clouds and now soaring up with glittering sparks, with here -and there dense sheaves of flame (now red and now like golden fish -scales creeping along the walls), and the heat and smoke and -rapidity of motion, produced on Pierre the usual animating effects -of a conflagration. It had a peculiarly strong effect on him because -at the sight of the fire he felt himself suddenly freed from the ideas -that had weighed him down. He felt young, bright, adroit, and -resolute. He ran round to the other side of the lodge and was about to -dash into that part of it which was still standing, when just above -his head he heard several voices shouting and then a cracking sound -and the ring of something heavy falling close beside him. - -Pierre looked up and saw at a window of the large house some -Frenchmen who had just thrown out the drawer of a chest, filled with -metal articles. Other French soldiers standing below went up to the -drawer. - -"What does this fellow want?" shouted one of them referring to -Pierre. - -"There's a child in that house. Haven't you seen a child?" cried -Pierre. - -"What's he talking about? Get along!" said several voices, and one -of the soldiers, evidently afraid that Pierre might want to take -from them some of the plate and bronzes that were in the drawer, moved -threateningly toward him. - -"A child?" shouted a Frenchman from above. "I did hear something -squealing in the garden. Perhaps it's his brat that the fellow is -looking for. After all, one must be human, you know...." - -"Where is it? Where?" said Pierre. - -"There! There!" shouted the Frenchman at the window, pointing to the -garden at the back of the house. "Wait a bit- I'm coming down." - -And a minute or two later the Frenchman, a black-eyed fellow with -a spot on his cheek, in shirt sleeves, really did jump out of a window -on the ground floor, and clapping Pierre on the shoulder ran with -him into the garden. - -"Hurry up, you others!" he called out to his comrades. "It's getting -hot." - -When they reached a gravel path behind the house the Frenchman -pulled Pierre by the arm and pointed to a round, graveled space -where a three-year-old girl in a pink dress was lying under a seat. - -"There is your child! Oh, a girl, so much the better!" said the -Frenchman. "Good-by, Fatty. We must be human, we are all mortal you -know!" and the Frenchman with the spot on his cheek ran back to his -comrades. - -Breathless with joy, Pierre ran to the little girl and was going -to take her in his arms. But seeing a stranger the sickly, -scrofulous-looking child, unattractively like her mother, began to -yell and run away. Pierre, however, seized her and lifted her in his -arms. She screamed desperately and angrily and tried with her little -hands to pull Pierre's hands away and to bite them with her slobbering -mouth. Pierre was seized by a sense of horror and repulsion such as he -had experienced when touching some nasty little animal. But he made an -effort not to throw the child down and ran with her to the large -house. It was now, however, impossible to get back the way he had -come; the maid, Aniska, was no longer there, and Pierre with a feeling -of pity and disgust pressed the wet, painfully sobbing child to -himself as tenderly as he could and ran with her through the garden -seeking another way out. - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -Having run through different yards and side streets, Pierre got back -with his little burden to the Gruzinski garden at the corner of the -Povarskoy. He did not at first recognize the place from which he had -set out to look for the child, so crowded was it now with people and -goods that had been dragged out of the houses. Besides Russian -families who had taken refuge here from the fire with their -belongings, there were several French soldiers in a variety of -clothing. Pierre took no notice of them. He hurried to find the family -of that civil servant in order to restore the daughter to her mother -and go to save someone else. Pierre felt that he had still much to -do and to do quickly. Glowing with the heat and from running, he -felt at that moment more strongly than ever the sense of youth, -animation, and determination that had come on him when he ran to -save the child. She had now become quiet and, clinging with her little -hands to Pierre's coat, sat on his arm gazing about her like some -little wild animal. He glanced at her occasionally with a slight -smile. He fancied he saw something pathetically innocent in that -frightened, sickly little face. - -He did not find the civil servant or his wife where he had left -them. He walked among the crowd with rapid steps, scanning the various -faces he met. Involuntarily he noticed a Georgian or Armenian family -consisting of a very handsome old man of Oriental type, wearing a new, -cloth-covered, sheepskin coat and new boots, an old woman of similar -type, and a young woman. That very young woman seemed to Pierre the -perfection of Oriental beauty, with her sharply outlined, arched, -black eyebrows and the extraordinarily soft, bright color of her long, -beautiful, expressionless face. Amid the scattered property and the -crowd on the open space, she, in her rich satin cloak with a bright -lilac shawl on her head, suggested a delicate exotic plant thrown -out onto the snow. She was sitting on some bundles a little behind the -old woman, and looked from under her long lashes with motionless, -large, almond-shaped eyes at the ground before her. Evidently she -was aware of her beauty and fearful because of it. Her face struck -Pierre and, hurrying along by the fence, he turned several times to -look at her. When he had reached the fence, still without finding -those he sought, he stopped and looked about him. - -With the child in his arms his figure was now more conspicuous -than before, and a group of Russians, both men and women, gathered -about him. - -"Have you lost anyone, my dear fellow? You're of the gentry -yourself, aren't you? Whose child is it?" they asked him. - -Pierre replied that the child belonged to a woman in a black coat -who had been sitting there with her other children, and he asked -whether anyone knew where she had gone. - -"Why, that must be the Anferovs," said an old deacon, addressing a -pockmarked peasant woman. "Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy!" he added -in his customary bass. - -"The Anferovs? No," said the woman. "They left in the morning. -That must be either Mary Nikolievna's or the Ivanovs'!" - -"He says 'a woman,' and Mary Nikolievna is a lady," remarked a house -serf. - -"Do you know her? She's thin, with long teeth," said Pierre. - -"That's Mary Nikolievna! They went inside the garden when these -wolves swooped down," said the woman, pointing to the French soldiers. - -"O Lord, have mercy!" added the deacon. - -"Go over that way, they're there. It's she! She kept on lamenting -and crying," continued the woman. "It's she. Here, this way!" - -But Pierre was not listening to the woman. He had for some seconds -been intently watching what was going on a few steps away. He was -looking at the Armenian family and at two French soldiers who had gone -up to them. One of these, a nimble little man, was wearing a blue coat -tied round the waist with a rope. He had a nightcap on his head and -his feet were bare. The other, whose appearance particularly struck -Pierre, was a long, lank, round-shouldered, fair-haired man, slow in -his movements and with an idiotic expression of face. He wore a -woman's loose gown of frieze, blue trousers, and large torn Hessian -boots. The little barefooted Frenchman in the blue coat went up to the -Armenians and, saying something, immediately seized the old man by his -legs and the old man at once began pulling off his boots. The other in -the frieze gown stopped in front of the beautiful Armenian girl and -with his hands in his pockets stood staring at her, motionless and -silent. - -"Here, take the child!" said Pierre peremptorily and hurriedly to -the woman, handing the little girl to her. "Give her back to them, -give her back!" he almost shouted, putting the child, who began -screaming, on the ground, and again looking at the Frenchman and the -Armenian family. - -The old man was already sitting barefoot. The little Frenchman had -secured his second boot and was slapping one boot against the other. -The old man was saying something in a voice broken by sobs, but Pierre -caught but a glimpse of this, his whole attention was directed to -the Frenchman in the frieze gown who meanwhile, swaying slowly from -side to side, had drawn nearer to the young woman and taking his hands -from his pockets had seized her by the neck. - -The beautiful Armenian still sat motionless and in the same -attitude, with her long lashes drooping as if she did not see or -feel what the soldier was doing to her. - -While Pierre was running the few steps that separated him from the -Frenchman, the tall marauder in the frieze gown was already tearing -from her neck the necklace the young Armenian was wearing, and the -young woman, clutching at her neck, screamed piercingly. - -"Let that woman alone!" exclaimed Pierre hoarsely in a furious -voice, seizing the soldier by his round shoulders and throwing him -aside. - -The soldier fell, got up, and ran away. But his comrade, throwing -down the boots and drawing his sword, moved threateningly toward -Pierre. - -"Voyons, Pas de betises!"~{ "Look here, no nonsense!" }~ he cried. - -Pierre was in such a transport of rage that he remembered nothing -and his strength increased tenfold. He rushed at the barefooted -Frenchman and, before the latter had time to draw his sword, knocked -him off his feet and hammered him with his fists. Shouts of approval -were heard from the crowd around, and at the same moment a mounted -patrol of French Uhlans appeared from round the corner. The Uhlans -came up at a trot to Pierre and the Frenchman and surrounded them. -Pierre remembered nothing of what happened after that. He only -remembered beating someone and being beaten and finally feeling that -his hands were bound and that a crowd of French soldiers stood -around him and were searching him. - -"Lieutenant, he has a dagger," were the first words Pierre -understood. - -"Ah, a weapon?" said the officer and turned to the barefooted -soldier who had been arrested with Pierre. "All right, you can tell -all about it at the court-martial." Then he turned to Pierre. "Do -you speak French?" - -Pierre looked around him with bloodshot eyes and did not reply. -His face probably looked very terrible, for the officer said something -in a whisper and four more Uhlans left the ranks and placed themselves -on both sides of Pierre. - -"Do you speak French?" the officer asked again, keeping at a -distance from Pierre. "Call the interpreter." - -A little man in Russian civilian clothes rode out from the ranks, -and by his clothes and manner of speaking Pierre at once knew him to -be a French salesman from one of the Moscow shops. - -"He does not look like a common man," said the interpreter, after -a searching look at Pierre. - -"Ah, he looks very much like an incendiary," remarked the officer. -"And ask him who he is," he added. - -"Who are you?" asked the interpreter in poor Russian. "You must -answer the chief." - -"I will not tell you who I am. I am your prisoner- take me!" -Pierre suddenly replied in French. - -"Ah, ah!" muttered the officer with a frown. "Well then, march!" - -A crowd had collected round the Uhlans. Nearest to Pierre stood -the pockmarked peasant woman with the little girl, and when the patrol -started she moved forward. - -"Where are they taking you to, you poor dear?" said she. "And the -little girl, the little girl, what am I to do with her if she's not -theirs?" said the woman. - -"What does that woman want?" asked the officer. - -Pierre was as if intoxicated. His elation increased at the sight -of the little girl he had saved. - -"What does she want?" he murmured. "She is bringing me my daughter -whom I have just saved from the flames," said he. "Good-by!" And -without knowing how this aimless lie had escaped him, he went along -with resolute and triumphant steps between the French soldiers. - -The French patrol was one of those sent out through the various -streets of Moscow by Durosnel's order to put a stop to the pillage, -and especially to catch the incendiaries who, according to the general -opinion which had that day originated among the higher French -officers, were the cause of the conflagrations. After marching through -a number of streets the patrol arrested five more Russian suspects: -a small shopkeeper, two seminary students, a peasant, and a house -serf, besides several looters. But of all these various suspected -characters, Pierre was considered to be the most suspicious of all. -When they had all been brought for the night to a large house on the -Zubov Rampart that was being used as a guardhouse, Pierre was placed -apart under strict guard. - -BOOK TWELVE: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -In Petersburg at that time a complicated struggle was being -carried on with greater heat than ever in the highest circles, between -the parties of Rumyantsev, the French, Marya Fedorovna, the Tsarevich, -and others, drowned as usual by the buzzing of the court drones. But -the calm, luxurious life of Petersburg, concerned only about -phantoms and reflections of real life, went on in its old way and made -it hard, except by a great effort, to realize the danger and the -difficult position of the Russian people. There were the same -receptions and balls, the same French theater, the same court -interests and service interests and intrigues as usual. Only in the -very highest circles were attempts made to keep in mind the -difficulties of the actual position. Stories were whispered of how -differently the two Empresses behaved in these difficult -circumstances. The Empress Marya, concerned for the welfare of the -charitable and educational institutions under her patronage, had given -directions that they should all be removed to Kazan, and the things -belonging to these institutions had already been packed up. The -Empress Elisabeth, however, when asked what instructions she would -be pleased to give- with her characteristic Russian patriotism had -replied that she could give no directions about state institutions for -that was the affair of the sovereign, but as far as she personally was -concerned she would be the last to quit Petersburg. - -At Anna Pavlovna's on the twenty-sixth of August, the very day of -the battle of Borodino, there was a soiree, the chief feature of which -was to be the reading of a letter from His Lordship the Bishop when -sending the Emperor an icon of the Venerable Sergius. It was -regarded as a model of ecclesiastical, patriotic eloquence. Prince -Vasili himself, famed for his elocution, was to read it. (He used to -read at the Empress'.) The art of his reading was supposed to lie in -rolling out the words, quite independently of their meaning, in a loud -and singsong voice alternating between a despairing wail and a -tender murmur, so that the wail fell quite at random on one word and -the murmur on another. This reading, as was always the case at Anna -Pavlovna's soirees, had a political significance. That evening she -expected several important personages who had to be made ashamed of -their visits to the French theater and aroused to a patriotic -temper. A good many people had already arrived, but Anna Pavlovna, not -yet seeing all those whom she wanted in her drawing room, did not -let the reading begin but wound up the springs of a general -conversation. - -The news of the day in Petersburg was the illness of Countess -Bezukhova. She had fallen ill unexpectedly a few days previously, -had missed several gatherings of which she was usually ornament, and -was said to be receiving no one, and instead of the celebrated -Petersburg doctors who usually attended her had entrusted herself to -some Italian doctor who was treating her in some new and unusual way. - -They all knew very well that the enchanting countess' illness -arose from an inconvenience resulting from marrying two husbands at -the same time, and that the Italian's cure consisted in removing -such inconvenience; but in Anna Pavlovna's presence no one dared to -think of this or even appear to know it. - -"They say the poor countess is very ill. The doctor says it is -angina pectoris." - -"Angina? Oh, that's a terrible illness!" - -"They say that the rivals are reconciled, thanks to the angina..." -and the word angina was repeated with great satisfaction. - -"The count is pathetic, they say. He cried like a child when the -doctor told him the case was dangerous." - -"Oh, it would be a terrible loss, she is an enchanting woman." - -"You are speaking of the poor countess?" said Anna Pavlovna, -coming up just then. "I sent to ask for news, and hear that she is a -little better. Oh, she is certainly the most charming woman in the -world," she went on, with a smile at her own enthusiasm. "We belong to -different camps, but that does not prevent my esteeming her as she -deserves. She is very unfortunate!" added Anna Pavlovna. - -Supposing that by these words Anna Pavlovna was somewhat lifting the -veil from the secret of the countess' malady, an unwary young man -ventured to express surprise that well known doctors had not been -called in and that the countess was being attended by a charlatan -who might employ dangerous remedies. - -"Your information maybe better than mine," Anna Pavlovna suddenly -and venomously retorted on the inexperienced young man, "but I know on -good authority that this doctor is a very learned and able man. He -is private physician to the Queen of Spain." - -And having thus demolished the young man, Anna Pavlovna turned to -another group where Bilibin was talking about the Austrians: having -wrinkled up his face he was evidently preparing to smooth it out again -and utter one of his mots. - -"I think it is delightful," he said, referring to a diplomatic -note that had been sent to Vienna with some Austrian banners -captured from the French by Wittgenstein, "the hero of Petropol" as he -was then called in Petersburg. - -"What? What's that?" asked Anna Pavlovna, securing silence for the -mot, which she had heard before. - -And Bilibin repeated the actual words of the diplomatic dispatch, -which he had himself composed. - -"The Emperor returns these Austrian banners," said Bilibin, -"friendly banners gone astray and found on a wrong path," and his brow -became smooth again. - -"Charming, charming!" observed Prince Vasili. - -"The path to Warsaw, perhaps," Prince Hippolyte remarked loudly -and unexpectedly. Everybody looked at him, understanding what he -meant. Prince Hippolyte himself glanced around with amused surprise. -He knew no more than the others what his words meant. During his -diplomatic career he had more than once noticed that such utterances -were received as very witty, and at every opportunity he uttered in -that way the first words that entered his head. "It may turn out -very well," he thought, "but if not, they'll know how to arrange -matters." And really, during the awkward silence that ensued, that -insufficiently patriotic person entered whom Anna Pavlovna had been -waiting for and wished to convert, and she, smiling and shaking a -finger at Hippolyte, invited Prince Vasili to the table and bringing -him two candles and the manuscript begged him to begin. Everyone -became silent. - -"Most Gracious Sovereign and Emperor! " Prince Vasili sternly -declaimed, looking round at his audience as if to inquire whether -anyone had anything to say to the contrary. But no one said -anything. "Moscow, our ancient capital, the New Jerusalem, receives -her Christ"- he placed a sudden emphasis on the word her- "as a mother -receives her zealous sons into her arms, and through the gathering -mists, foreseeing the brilliant glory of thy rule, sings in -exultation, 'Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh!'" - -Prince Vasili pronounced these last words in a tearful voice. - -Bilibin attentively examined his nails, and many of those present -appeared intimidated, as if asking in what they were to blame. Anna -Pavlovna whispered the next words in advance, like an old woman -muttering the prayer at Communion: "Let the bold and insolent -Goliath..." she whispered. - -Prince Vasili continued. - -"Let the bold and insolent Goliath from the borders of France -encompass the realms of Russia with death-bearing terrors; humble -Faith, the sling of the Russian David, shall suddenly smite his head -in his blood-thirsty pride. This icon of the Venerable Sergius, the -servant of God and zealous champion of old of our country's weal, is -offered to Your Imperial Majesty. I grieve that my waning strength -prevents rejoicing in the sight of your most gracious presence. I -raise fervent prayers to Heaven that the Almighty may exalt the race -of the just, and mercifully fulfill the desires of Your Majesty." - -"What force! What a style!" was uttered in approval both of reader -and of author. - -Animated by that address Anna Pavlovna's guests talked for a long -time of the state of the fatherland and offered various conjectures as -to the result of the battle to be fought in a few days. - -"You will see," said Anna Pavlovna, "that tomorrow, on the Emperor's -birthday, we shall receive news. I have a favorable presentiment!" - -CHAPTER II - -Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was in fact fulfilled. Next day -during the service at the palace church in honor of the Emperor's -birthday, Prince Volkonski was called out of the church and received a -dispatch from Prince Kutuzov. It was Kutuzov's report, written from -Tatarinova on the day of the battle. Kutuzov wrote that the Russians -had not retreated a step, that the French losses were much heavier -than ours, and that he was writing in haste from the field of battle -before collecting full information. It followed that there must have -been a victory. And at once, without leaving the church, thanks were -rendered to the Creator for His help and for the victory. - -Anna Pavlovna's presentiment was justified, and all that morning a -joyously festive mood reigned in the city. Everyone believed the -victory to have been complete, and some even spoke of Napoleon's -having been captured, of his deposition, and of the choice of a new -ruler for France. - -It is very difficult for events to be reflected in their real -strength and completeness amid the conditions of court life and far -from the scene of action. General events involuntarily group -themselves around some particular incident. So now the courtiers' -pleasure was based as much on the fact that the news had arrived on -the Emperor's birthday as on the fact of the victory itself. It was -like a successfully arranged surprise. Mention was made in Kutuzov's -report of the Russian losses, among which figured the names of -Tuchkov, Bagration, and Kutaysov. In the Petersburg world this sad -side of the affair again involuntarily centered round a single -incident: Kutaysov's death. Everybody knew him, the Emperor liked him, -and he was young and interesting. That day everyone met with the -words: - -"What a wonderful coincidence! Just during the service. But what a -loss Kutaysov is! How sorry I am!" - -"What did I tell about Kutuzov?" Prince Vasili now said with a -prophet's pride. "I always said he was the only man capable of -defeating Napoleon." - -But next day no news arrived from the army and the public mood -grew anxious. The courtiers suffered because of the suffering the -suspense occasioned the Emperor. - -"Fancy the Emperor's position!" said they, and instead of -extolling Kutuzov as they had done the day before, they condemned -him as the cause of the Emperor's anxiety. That day Prince Vasili no -longer boasted of his protege Kutuzov, but remained silent when the -commander in chief was mentioned. Moreover, toward evening, as if -everything conspired to make Petersburg society anxious and uneasy, -a terrible piece of news was added. Countess Helene Bezukhova had -suddenly died of that terrible malady it had been so agreeable to -mention. Officially, at large gatherings, everyone said that -Countess Bezukhova had died of a terrible attack of angina pectoris, -but in intimate circles details were mentioned of how the private -physician of the Queen of Spain had prescribed small doses of a -certain drug to produce a certain effect; but Helene, tortured by -the fact that the old count suspected her and that her husband to whom -she had written (that wretched, profligate Pierre) had not replied, -had suddenly taken a very large dose of the drug, and had died in -agony before assistance could be rendered her. It was said that Prince -Vasili and the old count had turned upon the Italian, but the latter -had produced such letters from the unfortunate deceased that they -had immediately let the matter drop. - -Talk in general centered round three melancholy facts: the Emperor's -lack of news, the loss of Kutuzov, and the death of Helene. - -On the third day after Kutuzov's report a country gentleman -arrived from Moscow, and news of the surrender of Moscow to the French -spread through the whole town. This was terrible! What a position -for the Emperor to be in! Kutuzov was a traitor, and Prince Vasili -during the visits of condolence paid to him on the occasion of his -daughter's death said of Kutuzov, whom he had formerly praised (it was -excusable for him in his grief to forget what he had said), that it -was impossible to expect anything else from a blind and depraved old -man. - -"I only wonder that the fate of Russia could have been entrusted -to such a man." - -As long as this news remained unofficial it was possible to doubt -it, but the next day the following communication was received from -Count Rostopchin: - -Prince Kutuzov's adjutant has brought me a letter in which he -demands police officers to guide the army to the Ryazan road. He -writes that he is regretfully abandoning Moscow. Sire! Kutuzov's -action decides the fate of the capital and of your empire! Russia will -shudder to learn of the abandonment of the city in which her greatness -is centered and in which lie the ashes of your ancestors! I shall -follow the army. I have had everything removed, and it only remains -for me to weep over the fate of my fatherland. - -On receiving this dispatch the Emperor sent Prince Volkonski to -Kutuzov with the following rescript: - -Prince Michael Ilarionovich! Since the twenty-ninth of August I have -received no communication from you, yet on the first of September I -received from the commander in chief of Moscow, via Yaroslavl, the sad -news that you, with the army, have decided to abandon Moscow. You -can yourself imagine the effect this news has had on me, and your -silence increases my astonishment. I am sending this by -Adjutant-General Prince Volkonski, to hear from you the situation of -the army and the reasons that have induced you to take this melancholy -decision. - -CHAPTER III - -Nine days after the abandonment of Moscow, a messenger from -Kutuzov reached Petersburg with the official announcement of that -event. This messenger was Michaud, a Frenchman who did not know -Russian, but who was quoique etranger, russe de coeur et d'ame,~{ Though a foreigner, Russian in heart and soul. }~ as he -said of himself. - -The Emperor at once received this messenger in his study at the -palace on Stone Island. Michaud, who had never seen Moscow before -the campaign and who did not know Russian, yet felt deeply moved (as -he wrote) when he appeared before notre tres gracieux souverain~{ Our most gracious sovereign. }~ -with the news of the burning of Moscow, dont les flammes eclairaient -sa route.~{ Whose flames illumined his route. }~ - -Though the source of M. Michaud's chagrin must have been different -from that which caused Russians to grieve, he had such a sad face when -shown into the Emperor's study that the latter at once asked: - -"Have you brought me sad news, Colonel?" - -"Very sad, sire," replied Michaud, lowering his eyes with a sigh. -"The abandonment of Moscow." - -"Have they surrendered my ancient capital without a battle?" asked -the Emperor quickly, his face suddenly flushing. - -Michaud respectfully delivered the message Kutuzov had entrusted -to him, which was that it had been impossible to fight before -Moscow, and that as the only remaining choice was between losing the -army as well as Moscow, or losing Moscow alone, the field marshal -had to choose the latter. - -The Emperor listened in silence, not looking at Michaud. - -"Has the enemy entered the city?" he asked. - -"Yes, sire, and Moscow is now in ashes. I left it all in flames," -replied Michaud in a decided tone, but glancing at the Emperor he -was frightened by what he had done. - -The Emperor began to breathe heavily and rapidly, his lower lip -trembled, and tears instantly appeared in his fine blue eyes. - -But this lasted only a moment. He suddenly frowned, as if blaming -himself for his weakness, and raising his head addressed Michaud in -a firm voice: - -"I see, Colonel, from all that is happening, that Providence -requires great sacrifices of us... I am ready to submit myself in -all things to His will; but tell me, Michaud, how did you leave the -army when it saw my ancient capital abandoned without a battle? Did -you not notice discouragement?..." - -Seeing that his most gracious ruler was calm once more, Michaud also -grew calm, but was not immediately ready to reply to the Emperor's -direct and relevant question which required a direct answer. - -"Sire, will you allow me to speak frankly as befits a loyal -soldier?" he asked to gain time. - -"Colonel, I always require it," replied the Emperor. "Conceal -nothing from me, I wish to know absolutely how things are." - -"Sire!" said Michaud with a subtle, scarcely perceptible smile on -his lips, having now prepared a well-phrased reply, "sire, I left -the whole army, from its chiefs to the lowest soldier, without -exception in desperate and agonized terror..." - -"How is that?" the Emperor interrupted him, frowning sternly. "Would -misfortune make my Russians lose heart?... Never!" - -Michaud had only waited for this to bring out the phrase he had -prepared. - -"Sire," he said, with respectful playfulness, "they are only -afraid lest Your Majesty, in the goodness of your heart, should -allow yourself to be persuaded to make peace. They are burning for the -combat," declared this representative of the Russian nation, "and to -prove to Your Majesty by the sacrifice of their lives how devoted they -are...." - -"Ah!" said the Emperor reassured, and with a kindly gleam in his -eyes, he patted Michaud on the shoulder. "You set me at ease, -Colonel." - -He bent his head and was silent for some time. - -"Well, then, go back to the army," he said, drawing himself up to -his full height and addressing Michaud with a gracious and majestic -gesture, "and tell our brave men and all my good subjects wherever you -go that when I have not a soldier left I shall put myself at the -head of my beloved nobility and my good peasants and so use the last -resources of my empire. It still offers me more than my enemies -suppose," said the Emperor growing more and more animated; "but should -it ever be ordained by Divine Providence," he continued, raising to -heaven his fine eyes shining with emotion, "that my dynasty should -cease to reign on the throne of my ancestors, then after exhausting -all the means at my command, I shall let my beard grow to here" (he -pointed halfway down his chest) "and go and eat potatoes with the -meanest of my peasants, rather than sign the disgrace of my country -and of my beloved people whose sacrifices I know how to appreciate." - -Having uttered these words in an agitated voice the Emperor suddenly -turned away as if to hide from Michaud the tears that rose to his -eyes, and went to the further end of his study. Having stood there a -few moments, he strode back to Michaud and pressed his arm below the -elbow with a vigorous movement. The Emperor's mild and handsome face -was flushed and his eyes gleamed with resolution and anger. - -"Colonel Michaud, do not forget what I say to you here, perhaps we -may recall it with pleasure someday... Napoleon or I," said the -Emperor, touching his breast. "We can no longer both reign together. I -have learned to know him, and he will not deceive me any more...." - -And the Emperor paused, with a frown. - -When he heard these words and saw the expression of firm -resolution in the Emperor's eyes, Michaud- quoique etranger, russe -de coeur et d'ame- at that solemn moment felt himself enraptured by -all that he had heard (as he used afterwards to say), and gave -expression to his own feelings and those of the Russian people whose -representative he considered himself to be, in the following words: - -"Sire!" said he, "Your Majesty is at this moment signing the glory -of the nation and the salvation of Europe!" - -With an inclination of the head the Emperor dismissed him. - -CHAPTER IV - -It is natural for us who were not living in those days to imagine -that when half Russia had been conquered and the inhabitants were -ficeing to distant provinces, and one levy after another was being -raised for the defense of the fatherland, all Russians from the -greatest to the least were solely engaged in sacrificing themselves, -saving their fatherland, or weeping over its downfall. The tales and -descriptions of that time without exception speak only of the -self-sacrifice, patriotic devotion, despair, grief, and the heroism of -the Russians. But it was not really so. It appears so to us because we -see only the general historic interest of that time and do not see all -the personal human interests that people had. Yet in reality those -personal interests of the moment so much transcend the general -interests that they always prevent the public interest from being felt -or even noticed. Most of the people at that time paid no attention -to the general progress of events but were guided only by their -private interests, and they were the very people whose activities at -that period were most useful. - -Those who tried to understand the general course of events and to -take part in it by self-sacrifice and heroism were the most useless -members of society, they saw everything upside down, and all they -did for the common good turned out to be useless and foolish- like -Pierre's and Mamonov's regiments which looted Russian villages, and -the lint the young ladies prepared and that never reached the wounded, -and so on. Even those, fond of intellectual talk and of expressing -their feelings, who discussed Russia's position at the time -involuntarily introduced into their conversation either a shade of -pretense and falsehood or useless condemnation and anger directed -against people accused of actions no one could possibly be guilty -of. In historic events the rule forbidding us to eat of the fruit of -the Tree of Knowledge is specially applicable. Only unconscious action -bears fruit, and he who plays a part in an historic event never -understands its significance. If he tries to realize it his efforts -are fruitless. - -The more closely a man was engaged in the events then taking place -in Russia the less did he realize their significance. In Petersburg -and in the provinces at a distance from Moscow, ladies, and -gentlemen in militia uniforms, wept for Russia and its ancient capital -and talked of self-sacrifice and so on; but in the army which -retired beyond Moscow there was little talk or thought of Moscow, -and when they caught sight of its burned ruins no one swore to be -avenged on the French, but they thought about their next pay, their -next quarters, of Matreshka the vivandiere, and like matters. - -As the war had caught him in the service, Nicholas Rostov took a -close and prolonged part in the defense of his country, but did so -casually, without any aim at self-sacrifice, and he therefore looked -at what was going on in Russia without despair and without dismally -racking his brains over it. Had he been asked what he thought of the -state of Russia, he would have said that it was not his business to -think about it, that Kutuzov and others were there for that purpose, -but that he had heard that the regiments were to be made up to their -full strength, that fighting would probably go on for a long time yet, -and that things being so it was quite likely he might be in command of -a regiment in a couple of years' time. - -As he looked at the matter in this way, he learned that he was being -sent to Voronezh to buy remounts for his division, not only without -regret at being prevented from taking part in the coming battle, but -with the greatest pleasure- which he did not conceal and which his -comrades fully understood. - -A few days before the battle of Borodino, Nicholas received the -necessary money and warrants, and having sent some hussars on in -advance, he set out with post horses for Voronezh. - -Only a man who has experienced it- that is, has passed some months -continuously in an atmosphere of campaigning and war- can understand -the delight Nicholas felt when he escaped from the region covered by -the army's foraging operations, provision trains, and hospitals. When- -free from soldiers, wagons, and the filthy traces of a camp- he saw -villages with peasants and peasant women, gentlemen's country -houses, fields where cattle were grazing, posthouses with -stationmasters asleep in them, he rejoiced as though seeing all this -for the first time. What for a long while specially surprised and -delighted him were the women, young and healthy, without a dozen -officers making up to each of them; women, too, who were pleased and -flattered that a passing officer should joke with them. - -In the highest spirits Nicholas arrived at night at a hotel in -Voronezh, ordered things he had long been deprived of in camp, and -next day, very clean-shaven and in a full-dress uniform he had not -worn for a long time, went to present himself to the authorities. - -The commander of the militia was a civilian general, an old man -who was evidently pleased with his military designation and rank. He -received Nicholas brusquely (imagining this to be characteristically -military) and questioned him with an important air, as if -considering the general progress of affairs and approving and -disapproving with full right to do so. Nicholas was in such good -spirits that this merely amused him. - -From the commander of the militia he drove to the governor. The -governor was a brisk little man, very simple and affable. He indicated -the stud farms at which Nicholas might procure horses, recommended -to him a horse dealer in the town and a landowner fourteen miles out -of town who had the best horses, and promised to assist him in every -way. - -"You are Count Ilya Rostov's son? My wife was a great friend of your -mother's. We are at home on Thursdays- today is Thursday, so please -come and see us quite informally," said the governor, taking leave -of him. - -Immediately on leaving the governor's, Nicholas hired post horses -and, taking his squadron quartermaster with him, drove at a gallop -to the landowner, fourteen miles away, who had the stud. Everything -seemed to him pleasant and easy during that first part of his stay -in Voronezh and, as usually happens when a man is in a pleasant -state of mind, everything went well and easily. - -The landowner to whom Nicholas went was a bachelor, an old -cavalryman, a horse fancier, a sportsman, the possessor of some -century-old brandy and some old Hungarian wine, who had a snuggery -where he smoked, and who owned some splendid horses. - -In very few words Nicholas bought seventeen picked stallions for six -thousand rubles- to serve, as he said, as samples of his remounts. -After dining and taking rather too much of the Hungarian wine, -Nicholas- having exchanged kisses with the landowner, with whom he was -already on the friendliest terms- galloped back over abominable roads, -in the brightest frame of mind, continually urging on the driver so as -to be in time for the governor's party. - -When he had changed, poured water over his head, and scented -himself, Nicholas arrived at the governor's rather late, but with -the phrase "better late than never" on his lips. - -It was not a ball, nor had dancing been announced, but everyone knew -that Catherine Petrovna would play valses and the ecossaise on the -clavichord and that there would be dancing, and so everyone had come -as to a ball. - -Provincial life in 1812 went on very much as usual, but with this -difference, that it was livelier in the towns in consequence of the -arrival of many wealthy families from Moscow, and as in everything -that went on in Russia at that time a special recklessness was -noticeable, an "in for a penny, in for a pound- who cares?" spirit, -and the inevitable small talk, instead of turning on the weather and -mutual acquaintances, now turned on Moscow, the army, and Napoleon. - -The society gathered together at the governor's was the best in -Voronezh. - -There were a great many ladies and some of Nicholas' Moscow -acquaintances, but there were no men who could at all vie with the -cavalier of St. George, the hussar remount officer, the good-natured -and well-bred Count Rostov. Among the men was an Italian prisoner, -an officer of the French army; and Nicholas felt that the presence -of that prisoner enhanced his own importance as a Russian hero. The -Italian was, as it were, a war trophy. Nicholas felt this, it seemed -to him that everyone regarded the Italian in the same light, and he -treated him cordially though with dignity and restraint. - -As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing -around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the -words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times -by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he -felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the -province- that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, -and intoxicatingly so after his long privations. At posting -stations, at inns, and in the landowner's snuggery, maidservants had -been flattered by his notice, and here too at the governor's party -there were (as it seemed to Nicholas) an inexhaustible number of -pretty young women, married and unmarried, impatiently awaiting his -notice. The women and girls flirted with him and, from the first -day, the people concerned themselves to get this fine young -daredevil of an hussar married and settled down. Among these was the -governor's wife herself, who welcomed Rostov as a near relative and -called him "Nicholas." - -Catherine Petrovna did actually play valses and the ecossaise, and -dancing began in which Nicholas still further captivated the -provincial society by his agility. His particularly free manner of -dancing even surprised them all. Nicholas was himself rather surprised -at the way he danced that evening. He had never danced like that in -Moscow and would even have considered such a very free and easy manner -improper and in bad form, but here he felt it incumbent on him to -astonish them all by something unusual, something they would have to -accept as the regular thing in the capital though new to them in the -provinces. - -All the evening Nicholas paid attention to a blue-eyed, plump and -pleasing little blonde, the wife of one of the provincial officials. -With the naive conviction of young men in a merry mood that other -men's wives were created for them, Rostov did not leave the lady's -side and treated her husband in a friendly and conspiratorial style, -as if, without speaking of it, they knew how capitally Nicholas and -the lady would get on together. The husband, however, did not seem -to share that conviction and tried to behave morosely with Rostov. But -the latter's good-natured naivete was so boundless that sometimes even -he involuntarily yielded to Nicholas' good humor. Toward the end of -the evening, however, as the wife's face grew more flushed and -animated, the husband's became more and more melancholy and solemn, as -though there were but a given amount of animation between them and -as the wife's share increased the husband's diminished. - -CHAPTER V - -Nicholas sat leaning slightly forward in an armchair, bending -closely over the blonde lady and paying her mythological compliments -with a smile that never left his face. Jauntily shifting the -position of his legs in their tight riding breeches, diffusing an odor -of perfume, and admiring his partner, himself, and the fine outlines -of his legs in their well-fitting Hessian boots, Nicholas told the -blonde lady that he wished to run away with a certain lady here in -Voronezh. - -"Which lady?" - -"A charming lady, a divine one. Her eyes" (Nicholas looked at his -partner) "are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure" (he glanced -at her shoulders) "like Diana's...." - -The husband came up and sullenly asked his wife what she was talking -about. - -"Ah, Nikita Ivanych!" cried Nicholas, rising politely, and as if -wishing Nikita Ivanych to share his joke, he began to tell him of -his intention to elope with a blonde lady. - -The husband smiled gloomily, the wife gaily. The governor's -good-natured wife came up with a look of disapproval. - -"Anna Ignatyevna wants to see you, Nicholas," said she, -pronouncing the name so that Nicholas at once understood that Anna -Ignatyevna was a very important person. "Come, Nicholas! You know -you let me call you so?" - -"Oh, yes, Aunt. Who is she?" - -"Anna Ignatyevna Malvintseva. She has heard from her niece how you -rescued her... Can you guess?" - -"I rescued such a lot of them!" said Nicholas. - -"Her niece, Princess Bolkonskaya. She is here in Voronezh with her -aunt. Oho! How you blush. Why, are...?" - -"Not a bit! Please don't, Aunt!" - -"Very well, very well!... Oh, what a fellow you are!" - -The governor's wife led him up to a tall and very stout old lady -with a blue headdress, who had just finished her game of cards with -the most important personages of the town. This was Malvintseva, -Princess Mary's aunt on her mother's side, a rich, childless widow who -always lived in Voronezh. When Rostov approached her she was -standing settling up for the game. She looked at him and, screwing -up her eyes sternly, continued to upbraid the general who had won from -her. - -"Very pleased, mon cher," she then said, holding out her hand to -Nicholas. "Pray come and see me." - -After a few words about Princess Mary and her late father, whom -Malvintseva had evidently not liked, and having asked what Nicholas -knew of Prince Andrew, who also was evidently no favorite of hers, the -important old lady dismissed Nicholas after repeating her invitation -to come to see her. - -Nicholas promised to come and blushed again as he bowed. At the -mention of Princess Mary he experienced a feeling of shyness and -even of fear, which he himself did not understand. - -When he had parted from Malvintseva Nicholas wished to return to the -dancing, but the governor's little wife placed her plump hand on his -sleeve and, saying that she wanted to have a talk with him, led him to -her sitting room, from which those who were there immediately withdrew -so as not to be in her way. - -"Do you know, dear boy," began the governor's wife with a serious -expression on her kind little face, "that really would be the match -for you: would you like me to arrange it?" - -"Whom do you mean, Aunt?" asked Nicholas. - -"I will make a match for you with the princess. Catherine Petrovna -speaks of Lily, but I say, no- the princess! Do you want me to do -it? I am sure your mother will be grateful to me. What a charming girl -she is, really! And she is not at all so plain, either." - -"Not at all," replied Nicholas as if offended at the idea. "As -befits a soldier, Aunt, I don't force myself on anyone or refuse -anything," he said before he had time to consider what he was saying. - -"Well then, remember, this is not a joke!" - -"Of course not!" - -"Yes, yes," the governor's wife said as if talking to herself. "But, -my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, -the blonde. One is sorry for the husband, really...." - -"Oh no, we are good friends with him," said Nicholas in the -simplicity of his heart; it did not enter his head that a pastime so -pleasant to himself might not be pleasant to someone else. - -"But what nonsense I have been saying to the governor's wife!" -thought Nicholas suddenly at supper. "She will really begin to arrange -a match... and Soyna...?" And on taking leave of the governor's -wife, when she again smilingly said to him, "Well then, remember!" -he drew her aside. - -"But see here, to tell the truth, Aunt..." - -"What is it, my dear? Come, let's sit down here," said she. - -Nicholas suddenly felt a desire and need to tell his most intimate -thoughts (which he would not have told to his mother, his sister, or -his friend) to this woman who was almost a stranger. When he -afterwards recalled that impulse to unsolicited and inexplicable -frankness which had very important results for him, it seemed to -him- as it seems to everyone in such cases- that it was merely some -silly whim that seized him: yet that burst of frankness, together with -other trifling events, had immense consequences for him and for all -his family. - -"You see, Aunt, Mamma has long wanted me to marry an heiress, but -the very idea of marrying for money is repugnant to me." - -"Oh yes, I understand," said the governor's wife. - -"But Princess Bolkonskaya- that's another matter. I will tell you -the truth. In the first place I like her very much, I feel drawn to -her; and then, after I met her under such circumstances- so strangely, -the idea often occurred to me: 'This is fate.' Especially if you -remember that Mamma had long been thinking of it; but I had never -happened to meet her before, somehow it had always happened that we -did not meet. And as long as my sister Natasha was engaged to her -brother it was of course out of the question for me to think of -marrying her. And it must needs happen that I should meet her just -when Natasha's engagement had been broken off... and then -everything... So you see... I never told this to anyone and never -will, only to you." - -The governor's wife pressed his elbow gratefully. - -"You know Sonya, my cousin? I love her, and promised to marry her, -and will do so.... So you see there can be no question about-" said -Nicholas incoherently and blushing. - -"My dear boy, what a way to look at it! You know Sonya has nothing -and you yourself say your Papa's affairs are in a very bad way. And -what about your mother? It would kill her, that's one thing. And -what sort of life would it be for Sonya- if she's a girl with a heart? -Your mother in despair, and you all ruined.... No, my dear, you and -Sonya ought to understand that." - -Nicholas remained silent. It comforted him to hear these arguments. - -"All the same, Aunt, it is impossible," he rejoined with a sigh, -after a short pause. "Besides, would the princess have me? And -besides, she is now in mourning. How can one think of it!" - -"But you don't suppose I'm going to get you married at once? There -is always a right way of doing things," replied the governor's wife. - -"What a matchmaker you are, Aunt..." said Nicholas, kissing her -plump little hand. - -CHAPTER VI - -On reaching Moscow after her meeting with Rostov, Princess Mary -had found her nephew there with his tutor, and a letter from Prince -Andrew giving her instructions how to get to her Aunt Malvintseva at -Voronezh. That feeling akin to temptation which had tormented her -during her father's illness, since his death, and especially since her -meeting with Rostov was smothered by arrangements for the journey, -anxiety about her brother, settling in a new house, meeting new -people, and attending to her nephew's education. She was sad. Now, -after a month passed in quiet surroundings, she felt more and more -deeply the loss of her father which was associated in her mind with -the ruin of Russia. She was agitated and incessantly tortured by the -thought of the dangers to which her brother, the only intimate -person now remaining to her, was exposed. She was worried too about -her nephew's education for which she had always felt herself -incompetent, but in the depths of her soul she felt at peace- a -peace arising from consciousness of having stifled those personal -dreams and hopes that had been on the point of awakening within her -and were related to her meeting with Rostov. - -The day after her party the governor's wife came to see -Malvintseva and, after discussing her plan with the aunt, remarked -that though under present circumstances a formal betrothal was, of -course, not to be thought of, all the same the young people might be -brought together and could get to know one another. Malvintseva -expressed approval, and the governor's wife began to speak of Rostov -in Mary's presence, praising him and telling how he had blushed when -Princess Mary's name was mentioned. But Princess Mary experienced a -painful rather than a joyful feeling- her mental tranquillity was -destroyed, and desires, doubts, self-reproach, and hopes reawoke. - -During the two days that elapsed before Rostov called, Princess Mary -continually thought of how she ought to behave to him. First she -decided not to come to the drawing room when he called to see her -aunt- that it would not be proper for her, in her deep mourning, to -receive visitors; then she thought this would be rude after what he -had done for her; then it occurred to her that her aunt and the -governor's wife had intentions concerning herself and Rostov- their -looks and words at times seemed to confirm this supposition- then -she told herself that only she, with her sinful nature, could think -this of them: they could not forget that situated as she was, while -still wearing deep mourning, such matchmaking would be an insult to -her and to her father's memory. Assuming that she did go down to see -him, Princess Mary imagined the words he would say to her and what she -would say to him, and these words sometimes seemed undeservedly cold -and then to mean too much. More than anything she feared lest the -confusion she felt might overwhelm her and betray her as soon as she -saw him. - -But when on Sunday after church the footman announced in the drawing -room that Count Rostov had called, the princess showed no confusion, -only a slight blush suffused her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a new -and radiant light. - -"You have met him, Aunt?" said she in a calm voice, unable herself -to understand that she could be outwardly so calm and natural. - -When Rostov entered the room, the princess dropped her eyes for an -instant, as if to give the visitor time to greet her aunt, and then -just as Nicholas turned to her she raised her head and met his look -with shining eyes. With a movement full of dignity and grace she -half rose with a smile of pleasure, held out her slender, delicate -hand to him, and began to speak in a voice in which for the first time -new deep womanly notes vibrated. Mademoiselle Bourienne, who was in -the drawing room, looked at Princess Mary in bewildered surprise. -Herself a consummate coquette, she could not have maneuvered better on -meeting a man she wished to attract. - -"Either black is particularly becoming to her or she really has -greatly improved without my having noticed it. And above all, what -tact and grace!" thought Mademoiselle Bourienne. - -Had Princess Mary been capable of reflection at that moment, she -would have been more surprised than Mademoiselle Bourienne at the -change that had taken place in herself. From the moment she recognized -that dear, loved face, a new life force took possession of her and -compelled her to speak and act apart from her own will. From the -time Rostov entered, her face became suddenly transformed. It was as -if a light had been kindled in a carved and painted lantern and the -intricate, skillful, artistic work on its sides, that previously -seemed dark, coarse, and meaningless, was suddenly shown up in -unexpected and striking beauty. For the first time all that pure, -spiritual, inward travail through which she had lived appeared on -the surface. All her inward labor, her dissatisfaction with herself, -her sufferings, her strivings after goodness, her meekness, love, -and self-sacrifice- all this now shone in those radiant eyes, in her -delicate smile, and in every trait of her gentle face. - -Rostov saw all this as clearly as if he had known her whole life. He -felt that the being before him was quite different from, and better -than, anyone he had met before, and above all better than himself. - -Their conversation was very simple and unimportant. They spoke of -the war, and like everyone else unconsciously exaggerated their sorrow -about it; they spoke of their last meeting- Nicholas trying to -change the subject- they talked of the governor's kind wife, of -Nicholas' relations, and of Princess Mary's. - -She did not talk about her brother, diverting the conversation as -soon as her aunt mentioned Andrew. Evidently she could speak of -Russia's misfortunes with a certain artificiality, but her brother was -too near her heart and she neither could nor would speak lightly of -him. Nicholas noticed this, as he noticed every shade of Princess -Mary's character with an observation unusual to him, and everything -confirmed his conviction that she was a quite unusual and -extraordinary being. Nicholas blushed and was confused when people -spoke to him about the princess (as she did when he was mentioned) and -even when he thought of her, but in her presence he felt quite at -ease, and said not at all what he had prepared, but what, quite -appropriately, occurred to him at the moment. - -When a pause occurred during his short visit, Nicholas, as is -usual when there are children, turned to Prince Andrew's little son, -caressing him and asking whether he would like to be an hussar. He -took the boy on his knee, played with him, and looked round at -Princess Mary. With a softened, happy, timid look she watched the -boy she loved in the arms of the man she loved. Nicholas also -noticed that look and, as if understanding it, flushed with pleasure -and began to kiss the boy with good natured playfulness. - -As she was in mourning Princess Mary did not go out into society, -and Nicholas did not think it the proper thing to visit her again; but -all the same the governor's wife went on with her matchmaking, passing -on to Nicholas the flattering things Princess Mary said of him and -vice versa, and insisting on his declaring himself to Princess Mary. -For this purpose she arranged a meeting between the young people at -the bishop's house before Mass. - -Though Rostov told the governeor's wife that he would not make any -declaration to Princess Mary, he promised to go. - -As at Tilsit Rostov had not allowed himself to doubt that what -everybody considered right was right, so now, after a short but -sincere struggle between his effort to arrange his life by his own -sense of justice, and in obedient submission to circumstances, he -chose the latter and yielded to the power he felt irresistibly -carrying him he knew not where. He knew that after his promise to -Sonya it would be what he deemed base to declare his feelings to -Princess Mary. And he knew that he would never act basely. But he also -knew (or rather felt at the bottom of his heart) that by resigning -himself now to the force of circumstances and to those who were -guiding him, he was not only doing nothing wrong, but was doing -something very important- more important than anything he had ever -done in his life. - -After meeting Princess Mary, though the course of his life went on -externally as before, all his former amusements lost their charm for -him and he often thought about her. But he never thought about her -as he had thought of all the young ladies without exception whom he -had met in society, nor as he had for a long time, and at one time -rapturously, thought about Sonya. He had pictured each of those -young ladies as almost all honest-hearted young men do, that is, as -a possible wife, adapting her in his imagination to all the conditions -of married life: a white dressing gown, his wife at the tea table, his -wife's carriage, little ones, Mamma and Papa, their relations to -her, and so on- and these pictures of the future had given him -pleasure. But with Princess Mary, to whom they were trying to get -him engaged, he could never picture anything of future married life. -If he tried, his pictures seemed incongruous and false. It made him -afraid. - -CHAPTER VII - -The dreadful news of the battle of Borodino, of our losses in killed -and wounded, and the still more terrible news of the loss of Moscow -reached Voronezh in the middle of September. Princess Mary, having -learned of her brother's wound only from the Gazette and having no -definite news of him, prepared (so Nicholas heard, he had not seen her -again himself) to set off in search of Prince Andrew. - -When he received the news of the battle of Borodino and the -abandonment of Moscow, Rostov was not seized with despair, anger, -the desire for vengeance, or any feeling of that kind, but -everything in Voronezh suddenly seemed to him dull and tiresome, and -he experienced an indefinite feeling of shame and awkwardness. The -conversations he heard seemed to him insincere; he did not know how to -judge all these affairs and felt that only in the regiment would -everything again become clear to him. He made haste to finish buying -the horses, and often became unreasonably angry with his servant and -squadron quartermaster. - -A few days before his departure a special thanksgiving, at which -Nicholas was present, was held in the cathedral for the Russian -victory. He stood a little behind the governor and held himself with -military decorum through the service, meditating on a great variety of -subjects. When the service was over the governor's wife beckoned him -to her. - -"Have you seen the princess?" she asked, indicating with a -movement of her head a lady standing on the opposite side, beyond -the choir. - -Nicholas immediately recognized Princess Mary not so much by the -profile he saw under her bonnet as by the feeling of solicitude, -timidity, and pity that immediately overcame him. Princess Mary, -evidently engrossed by her thoughts, was crossing herself for the last -time before leaving the church. - -Nicholas looked at her face with surprise. It was the same face he -had seen before, there was the same general expression of refined, -inner, spiritual labor, but now it was quite differently lit up. There -was a pathetic expression of sorrow, prayer, and hope in it. As had -occurred before when she was present, Nicholas went up to her -without waiting to be prompted by the governor's wife and not asking -himself whether or not it was right and proper to address her here -in church, and told her he had heard of her trouble and sympathized -with his whole soul. As soon as she heard his voice a vivid glow -kindled in her face, lighting up both her sorrow and her joy. - -"There is one thing I wanted to tell you, Princess," said Rostov. -"It is that if your brother, Prince Andrew Nikolievich, were not -living, it would have been at once announced in the Gazette, as he -is a colonel." - -The princess looked at him, not grasping what he was saying, but -cheered by the expression of regretful sympathy on his face. - -"And I have known so many cases of a splinter wound" (the Gazette -said it was a shell) "either proving fatal at once or being very -slight," continued Nicholas. "We must hope for the best, and I am -sure..." - -Princess Mary interrupted him. - -"Oh, that would be so dread..." she began and, prevented by -agitation from finishing, she bent her head with a movement as -graceful as everything she did in his presence and, looking up at -him gratefully, went out, following her aunt. - -That evening Nicholas did not go out, but stayed at home to settle -some accounts with the horse dealers. When he had finished that -business it was already too late to go anywhere but still too early to -go to bed, and for a long time he paced up and down the room, -reflecting on his life, a thing he rarely did. - -Princess Mary had made an agreeable impression on him when he had -met her in Smolensk province. His having encountered her in such -exceptional circumstances, and his mother having at one time mentioned -her to him as a good match, had drawn his particular attention to her. -When he met her again in Voronezh the impression she made on him was -not merely pleasing but powerful. Nicholas had been struck by the -peculiar moral beauty he observed in her at this time. He was, -however, preparing to go away and it had not entered his head to -regret that he was thus depriving himself of chances of meeting her. -But that day's encounter in church had, he felt, sunk deeper than -was desirable for his peace of mind. That pale, sad, refined face, -that radiant look, those gentle graceful gestures, and especially -the deep and tender sorrow expressed in all her features agitated -him and evoked his sympathy. In men Rostov could not bear to see the -expression of a higher spiritual life (that was why he did not like -Prince Andrew) and he referred to it contemptuously as philosophy -and dreaminess, but in Princess Mary that very sorrow which revealed -the depth of a whole spiritual world foreign to him was an -irresistible attraction. - -"She must be a wonderful woman. A real angel!" he said to himself. -"Why am I not free? Why was I in such a hurry with Sonya?" And he -involuntarily compared the two: the lack of spirituality in the one -and the abundance of it in the other- a spirituality he himself lacked -and therefore valued most highly. He tried to picture what would -happen were he free. How he would propose to her and how she would -become his wife. But no, he could not imagine that. He felt awed, -and no clear picture presented itself to his mind. He had long ago -pictured to himself a future with Sonya, and that was all clear and -simple just because it had all been thought out and he knew all -there was in Sonya, but it was impossible to picture a future with -Princess Mary, because he did not understand her but simply loved her. - -Reveries about Sonya had had something merry and playful in them, -but to dream of Princess Mary was always difficult and a little -frightening. - -"How she prayed!" he thought. "It was plain that her whole soul -was in her prayer. Yes, that was the prayer that moves mountains, -and I am sure her prayer will be answered. Why don't I pray for what I -want?" he suddenly thought. "What do I want? To be free, released from -Sonya... She was right," he thought, remembering what the governor's -wife had said: "Nothing but misfortune can come of marrying Sonya. -Muddles, grief for Mamma... business difficulties... muddles, terrible -muddles! Besides, I don't love her- not as I should. O, God! release -me from this dreadful, inextricable position!" he suddenly began to -pray. "Yes, prayer can move mountains, but one must have faith and not -pray as Natasha and I used to as children, that the snow might turn -into sugar- and then run out into the yard to see whether it had -done so. No, but I am not praying for trifles now," he thought as he -put his pipe down in a corner, and folding his hands placed himself -before the icon. Softened by memories of Princess Mary he began to -pray as he had not done for a long time. Tears were in his eyes and in -his throat when the door opened and Lavrushka came in with some -papers. - -"Blockhead! Why do you come in without being called?" cried -Nicholas, quickly changing his attitude. - -"From the governor," said Lavrushka in a sleepy voice. "A courier -has arrived and there's a letter for you." - -"Well, all right, thanks. You can go!" - -Nicholas took the two letters, one of which was from his mother -and the other from Sonya. He recognized them by the handwriting and -opened Sonya's first. He had read only a few lines when he turned pale -and his eyes opened wide with fear and joy. - -"No, it's not possible!" he cried aloud. - -Unable to sit still he paced up and down the room holding the letter -and reading it. He glanced through it, then read it again, and then -again, and standing still in the middle of the room he raised his -shoulders, stretching out his hands, with his mouth wide open and -his eyes fixed. What he had just been praying for with confidence that -God would hear him had come to pass; but Nicholas was as much -astonished as if it were something extraordinary and unexpected, and -as if the very fact that it had happened so quickly proved that it had -not come from God to whom he had prayed, but by some ordinary -coincidence. - -This unexpected and, as it seemed to Nicholas, quite voluntary -letter from Sonya freed him from the knot that fettered him and from -which there had seemed no escape. She wrote that the last -unfortunate events- the loss of almost the whole of the Rostovs' -Moscow property- and the countess' repeatedly expressed wish that -Nicholas should marry Princess Bolkonskaya, together with his -silence and coldness of late, had all combined to make her decide to -release him from his promise and set him completely free. - -It would be too painful to me to think that I might be a cause of -sorrow or discord in the family that has been so good to me (she -wrote), and my love has no aim but the happiness of those I love; -so, Nicholas, I beg you to consider yourself free, and to be assured -that, in spite of everything, no one can love you more than does - -Your Sonya - -Both letters were written from Troitsa. The other, from the -countess, described their last days in Moscow, their departure, the -fire, and the destruction of all their property. In this letter the -countess also mentioned that Prince Andrew was among the wounded -traveling with them; his state was very critical, but the doctor -said there was now more hope. Sonya and Natasha were nursing him. - -Next day Nicholas took his mother's letter and went to see -Princess Mary. Neither he nor she said a word about what "Natasha -nursing him" might mean, but thanks to this letter Nicholas suddenly -became almost as intimate with the princess as if they were relations. - -The following day he saw Princess Mary off on her journey to -Yaroslavl, and a few days later left to rejoin his regiment. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Sonya's letter written from Troitsa, which had come as an answer -to Nicholas' prayer, was prompted by this: the thought of getting -Nicholas married to an heiress occupied the old countess' mind more -and more. She knew that Sonya was the chief obstacle to this -happening, and Sonya's life in the countess' house had grown harder -and harder, especially after they had received a letter from -Nicholas telling of his meeting with Princess Mary in Bogucharovo. The -countess let no occasion slip of making humiliating or cruel allusions -to Sonya. - -But a few days before they left Moscow, moved and excited by all -that was going on, she called Sonya to her and, instead of reproaching -and making demands on her, tearfully implored her to sacrifice herself -and repay all that the family had done for her by breaking off her -engagement with Nicholas. - -"I shall not be at peace till you promise me this." - -Sonya burst into hysterical tears and replied through her sobs -that she would do anything and was prepared for anything, but gave -no actual promise and could not bring herself to decide to do what was -demanded of her. She must sacrifice herself for the family that had -reared and brought her up. To sacrifice herself for others was Sonya's -habit. Her position in the house was such that only by sacrifice could -she show her worth, and she was accustomed to this and loved doing it. -But in all her former acts of self-sacrifice she had been happily -conscious that they raised her in her own esteem and in that of -others, and so made her more worthy of Nicholas whom she loved more -than anything in the world. But now they wanted her to sacrifice the -very thing that constituted the whole reward for her self-sacrifice -and the whole meaning of her life. And for the first time she felt -bitterness against those who had been her benefactors only to -torture her the more painfully; she felt jealous of Natasha who had -never experienced anything of this sort, had never needed to sacrifice -herself, but made others sacrifice themselves for her and yet was -beloved by everybody. And for the first time Sonya felt that out of -her pure, quiet love for Nicholas a passionate feeling was beginning -to grow up which was stronger than principle, virtue, or religion. -Under the influence of this feeling Sonya, whose life of dependence -had taught her involuntarily to be secretive, having answered the -countess in vague general terms, avoided talking with her and resolved -to wait till she should see Nicholas, not in order to set him free but -on the contrary at that meeting to bind him to her forever. - -The bustle and terror of the Rostovs' last days in Moscow stifled -the gloomy thoughts that oppressed Sonya. She was glad to find -escape from them in practical activity. But when she heard of Prince -Andrew's presence in their house, despite her sincere pity for him and -for Natasha, she was seized by a joyful and superstitious feeling that -God did not intend her to be separated from Nicholas. She knew that -Natasha loved no one but Prince Andrew and had never ceased to love -him. She knew that being thrown together again under such terrible -circumstances they would again fall in love with one another, and that -Nicholas would then not be able to marry Princess Mary as they would -be within the prohibited degrees of affinity. Despite all the terror -of what had happened during those last days and during the first -days of their journey, this feeling that Providence was intervening in -her personal affairs cheered Sonya. - -At the Troitsa monastery the Rostovs first broke their journey for a -whole day. - -Three large rooms were assigned to them in the monastery hostelry, -one of which was occupied by Prince Andrew. The wounded man was much -better that day and Natasha was sitting with him. In the next room sat -the count and countess respectfully conversing with the prior, who was -calling on them as old acquaintances and benefactors of the monastery. -Sonya was there too, tormented by curiosity as to what Prince Andrew -and Natasha were talking about. She heard the sound of their voices -through the door. That door opened and Natasha came out, looking -excited. Not noticing the monk, who had risen to greet her and was -drawing back the wide sleeve on his right arm, she went up to Sonya -and took her hand. - -"Natasha, what are you about? Come here!" said the countess. - -Natasha went up to the monk for his blessing, and advised her to -pray for aid to God and His saint. - -As soon as the prior withdrew, Natasha took her friend by the hand -and went with her into the unoccupied room. - -"Sonya, will he live?" she asked. "Sonya, how happy I am, and how -unhappy!... Sonya, dovey, everything is as it used to be. If only he -lives! He cannot... because... because... of" and Natasha burst into -tears. - -"Yes! I knew it! Thank God!" murmured Sonya. "He will live." - -Sonya was not less agitated than her friend by the latter's fear and -grief and by her own personal feelings which she shared with no one. -Sobbing, she kissed and comforted Natasha. "If only he lives!" she -thought. Having wept, talked, and wiped away their tears, the two -friends went together to Prince Andrew's door. Natasha opened it -cautiously and glanced into the room, Sonya standing beside her at the -half-open door. - -Prince Andrew was lying raised high on three pillows. His pale -face was calm, his eyes closed, and they could see his regular -breathing. - -"O, Natasha!" Sonya suddenly almost screamed, catching her -companion's arm and stepping back from the door. - -"What? What is it?" asked Natasha. - -"It's that, that..." said Sonya, with a white face and trembling -lips. - -Natasha softly closed the door and went with Sonya to the window, -not yet understanding what the latter was telling her. - -"You remember," said Sonya with a solemn and frightened -expression. "You remember when I looked in the mirror for you... at -Otradnoe at Christmas? Do you remember what I saw?" - -"Yes, yes!" cried Natasha opening her eyes wide, and vaguely -recalling that Sonya had told her something about Prince Andrew whom -she had seen lying down. - -"You remember?" Sonya went on. "I saw it then and told everybody, -you and Dunyasha. I saw him lying on a bed," said she, making a -gesture with her hand and a lifted finger at each detail, "and that he -had his eyes closed and was covered just with a pink quilt, and that -his hands were folded," she concluded, convincing herself that the -details she had just seen were exactly what she had seen in the -mirror. - -She had in fact seen nothing then but had mentioned the first -thing that came into her head, but what she had invented then seemed -to her now as real as any other recollection. She not only -remembered what she had then said- that he turned to look at her and -smiled and was covered with something red- but was firmly convinced -that she had then seen and said that he was covered with a pink -quilt and that his eyes were closed. - -"Yes, yes, it really was pink!" cried Natasha, who now thought she -too remembered the word pink being used, and saw in this the most -extraordinary and mysterious part of the prediction. - -"But what does it mean?" she added meditatively. - -"Oh, I don't know, it is all so strange," replied Sonya, clutching -at her head. - -A few minutes later Prince Andrew rang and Natasha went to him, -but Sonya, feeling unusually excited and touched, remained at the -window thinking about the strangeness of what had occurred. - -They had an opportunity that day to send letters to the army, and -the countess was writing to her son. - -"Sonya!" said the countess, raising her eyes from her letter as -her niece passed, "Sonya, won't you write to Nicholas?" She spoke in a -soft, tremulous voice, and in the weary eyes that looked over her -spectacles Sonya read all that the countess meant to convey with these -words. Those eyes expressed entreaty, shame at having to ask, fear -of a refusal, and readiness for relentless hatred in case of such -refusal. - -Sonya went up to the countess and, kneeling down, kissed her hand. - -"Yes, Mamma, I will write," said she. - -Sonya was softened, excited, and touched by all that had occurred -that day, especially by the mysterious fulfillment she had just seen -of her vision. Now that she knew that the renewal of Natasha's -relations with Prince Andrew would prevent Nicholas from marrying -Princess Mary, she was joyfully conscious of a return of that -self-sacrificing spirit in which she was accustomed to live and -loved to live. So with a joyful consciousness of performing a -magnanimous deed- interrupted several times by the tears that dimmed -her velvety black eyes- she wrote that touching letter the arrival -of which had so amazed Nicholas. - -CHAPTER IX - -The officer and soldiers who had arrested Pierre treated him with -hostility but yet with respect, in the guardhouse to which he was -taken. In their attitude toward him could still be felt both -uncertainty as to who he might be- perhaps a very important person- -and hostility as a result of their recent personal conflict with him. - -But when the guard was relieved next morning, Pierre felt that for -the new guard- both officers and men- he was not as interesting as -he had been to his captors; and in fact the guard of the second day -did not recognize in this big, stout man in a peasant coat the -vigorous person who had fought so desperately with the marauder and -the convoy and had uttered those solemn words about saving a child; -they saw in him only No. 17 of the captured Russians, arrested and -detained for some reason by order of the Higher Command. If they -noticed anything remarkable about Pierre, it was only his unabashed, -meditative concentration and thoughtfulness, and the way he spoke -French, which struck them as surprisingly good. In spite of this he -was placed that day with the other arrested suspects, as the -separate room he had occupied was required by an officer. - -All the Russians confined with Pierre were men of the lowest class -and, recognizing him as a gentleman, they all avoided him, more -especially as he spoke French. Pierre felt sad at hearing them -making fun of him. - -That evening he learned that all these prisoners (he, probably, -among them) were to be tried for incendiarism. On the third day he was -taken with the others to a house where a French general with a white -mustache sat with two colonels and other Frenchmen with scarves on -their arms. With the precision and definiteness customary in -addressing prisoners, and which is supposed to preclude human frailty, -Pierre like the others was questioned as to who he was, where he had -been, with what object, and so on. - -These questions, like questions put at trials generally, left the -essence of the matter aside, shut out the possibility of that -essence's being revealed, and were designed only to form a channel -through which the judges wished the answers of the accused to flow -so as to lead to the desired result, namely a conviction. As soon as -Pierre began to say anything that did not fit in with that aim, the -channel was removed and the water could flow to waste. Pierre felt, -moreover, what the accused always feel at their trial, perplexity as -to why these questions were put to him. He had a feeling that it was -only out of condescension or a kind of civility that this device of -placing a channel was employed. He knew he was in these men's power, -that only by force had they brought him there, that force alone gave -them the right to demand answers to their questions, and that the sole -object of that assembly was to inculpate him. And so, as they had -the power and wish to inculpate him, this expedient of an inquiry -and trial seemed unnecessary. It was evident that any answer would -lead to conviction. When asked what he was doing when he was arrested, -Pierre replied in a rather tragic manner that he was restoring to -its parents a child he had saved from the flames. Why had he fought -the marauder? Pierre answered that he "was protecting a woman," and -that "to protect a woman who was being insulted was the duty of -every man; that..." They interrupted him, for this was not to the -point. Why was he in the yard of a burning house where witnesses had -seen him? He replied that he had gone out to see what was happening in -Moscow. Again they interrupted him: they had not asked where he was -going, but why he was found near the fire? Who was he? they asked, -repeating their first question, which he had declined to answer. Again -he replied that he could not answer it. - -"Put that down, that's bad... very bad," sternly remarked the -general with the white mustache and red flushed face. - -On the fourth day fires broke out on the Zubovski rampart. - -Pierre and thirteen others were moved to the coach house of a -merchant's house near the Crimean bridge. On his way through the -streets Pierre felt stifled by the smoke which seemed to hang over the -whole city. Fires were visible on all sides. He did not then realize -the significance of the burning of Moscow, and looked at the fires -with horror. - -He passed four days in the coach house near the Crimean bridge and -during that time learned, from the talk of the French soldiers, that -all those confined there were awaiting a decision which might come any -day from the marshal. What marshal this was, Pierre could not learn -from the soldiers. Evidently for them "the marshal" represented a very -high and rather mysterious power. - -These first days, before the eighth of September when the -prisoners were had up for a second examination, were the hardest of -all for Pierre. - -CHAPTER X - -On the eighth of September an officer- a very important one -judging by the respect the guards showed him- entered the coach -house where the prisoners were. This officer, probably someone on -the staff, was holding a paper in his hand, and called over all the -Russians there, naming Pierre as "the man who does not give his name." -Glancing indolently and indifferently at all the prisoners, he ordered -the officer in charge to have them decently dressed and tidied up -before taking them to the marshal. An hour later a squad of soldiers -arrived and Pierre with thirteen others was led to the Virgin's Field. -It was a fine day, sunny after rain, and the air was unusually pure. -The smoke did not hang low as on the day when Pierre had been taken -from the guardhouse on the Zubovski rampart, but rose through the pure -air in columns. No flames were seen, but columns of smoke rose on -all sides, and all Moscow as far as Pierre could see was one vast -charred ruin. On all sides there were waste spaces with only stoves -and chimney stacks still standing, and here and there the blackened -walls of some brick houses. Pierre gazed at the ruins and did not -recognize districts he had known well. Here and there he could see -churches that had not been burned. The Kremlin, which was not -destroyed, gleamed white in the distance with its towers and the -belfry of Ivan the Great. The domes of the New Convent of the Virgin -glittered brightly and its bells were ringing particularly clearly. -These bells reminded Pierre that it was Sunday and the feast of the -Nativity of the Virgin. But there seemed to be no one to celebrate -this holiday: everywhere were blackened ruins, and the few Russians to -be seen were tattered and frightened people who tried to hide when -they saw the French. - -It was plain that the Russian nest was ruined and destroyed, but -in place of the Russian order of life that had been destroyed, -Pierre unconsciously felt that a quite different, firm, French order -had been established over this ruined nest. He felt this in the -looks of the soldiers who, marching in regular ranks briskly and -gaily, were escorting him and the other criminals; he felt it in the -looks of an important French official in a carriage and pair driven by -a soldier, whom they met on the way. He felt it in the merry sounds of -regimental music he heard from the left side of the field, and felt -and realized it especially from the list of prisoners the French -officer had read out when he came that morning. Pierre had been -taken by one set of soldiers and led first to one and then to -another place with dozens of other men, and it seemed that they -might have forgotten him, or confused him with the others. But no: the -answers he had given when questioned had come back to him in his -designation as "the man who does not give his name," and under that -appellation, which to Pierre seemed terrible, they were now leading -him somewhere with unhesitating assurance on their faces that he and -all the other prisoners were exactly the ones they wanted and that -they were being taken to the proper place. Pierre felt himself to be -an insignificant chip fallen among the wheels of a machine whose -action he did not understand but which was working well. - -He and the other prisoners were taken to the right side of the -Virgin's Field, to a large white house with an immense garden not -far from the convent. This was Prince Shcherbitov's house, where -Pierre had often been in other days, and which, as he learned from the -talk of the soldiers, was now occupied by the marshal, the Duke of -Eckmuhl (Davout). - -They were taken to the entrance and led into the house one by one. -Pierre was the sixth to enter. He was conducted through a glass -gallery, an anteroom, and a hall, which were familiar to him, into a -long low study at the door of which stood an adjutant. - -Davout, spectacles on nose, sat bent over a table at the further end -of the room. Pierre went close up to him, but Davout, evidently -consulting a paper that lay before him, did not look up. Without -raising his eyes, he said in a low voice: - -"Who are you?" - -Pierre was silent because he was incapable of uttering a word. To -him Davout was not merely a French general, but a man notorious for -his cruelty. Looking at his cold face, as he sat like a stern -schoolmaster who was prepared to wait awhile for an answer, Pierre -felt that every instant of delay might cost him his life; but he did -not know what to say. He did not venture to repeat what he had said at -his first examination, yet to disclose his rank and position was -dangerous and embarrassing. So he was silent. But before he had -decided what to do, Davout raised his head, pushed his spectacles back -on his forehead, screwed up his eyes, and looked intently at him. - -"I know that man," he said in a cold, measured tone, evidently -calculated to frighten Pierre. - -The chill that had been running down Pierre's back now seized his -head as in a vise. - -"You cannot know me, General, I have never seen you..." - -"He is a Russian spy," Davout interrupted, addressing another -general who was present, but whom Pierre had not noticed. - -Davout turned away. With an unexpected reverberation in his voice -Pierre rapidly began: - -"No, monseigneur," he said, suddenly remembering that Davout was a -duke. "No, monseigneur, you cannot have known me. I am a militia -officer and have not quitted Moscow." - -"Your name?" asked Davout. - -"Bezukhov." - -"What proof have I that you are not lying?" - -"Monseigneur!" exclaimed Pierre, not in an offended but in a -pleading voice. - -Davout looked up and gazed intently at him. For some seconds they -looked at one another, and that look saved Pierre. Apart from -conditions of war and law, that look established human relations -between the two men. At that moment an immense number of things passed -dimly through both their minds, and they realized that they were -both children of humanity and were brothers. - -At the first glance, when Davout had only raised his head from the -papers where human affairs and lives were indicated by numbers, Pierre -was merely a circumstance, and Davout could have shot him without -burdening his conscience with an evil deed, but now he saw in him a -human being. He reflected for a moment. - -"How can you show me that you are telling the truth?" said Davout -coldly. - -Pierre remembered Ramballe, and named him and his regiment and the -street where the house was. - -"You are not what you say," returned Davout. - -In a trembling, faltering voice Pierre began adducing proofs of -the truth of his statements. - -But at that moment an adjutant entered and reported something to -Davout. - -Davout brightened up at the news the adjutant brought, and began -buttoning up his uniform. It seemed that he had quite forgotten -Pierre. - -When the adjutant reminded him of the prisoner, he jerked his head -in Pierre's direction with a frown and ordered him to be led away. But -where they were to take him Pierre did not know: back to the coach -house or to the place of execution his companions had pointed out to -him as they crossed the Virgin's Field. - -He turned his head and saw that the adjutant was putting another -question to Davout. - -"Yes, of course!" replied Davout, but what this "yes" meant, -Pierre did not know. - -Pierre could not afterwards remember how he went, whether it was -far, or in which direction. His faculties were quite numbed, he was -stupefied, and noticing nothing around him went on moving his legs -as the others did till they all stopped and he stopped too. The only -thought in his mind at that time was: who was it that had really -sentenced him to death? Not the men on the commission that had first -examined him- not one of them wished to or, evidently, could have done -it. It was not Davout, who had looked at him in so human a way. In -another moment Davout would have realized that he was doing wrong, but -just then the adjutant had come in and interrupted him. The -adjutant, also, had evidently had no evil intent though he might -have refrained from coming in. Then who was executing him, killing -him, depriving him of life- him, Pierre, with all his memories, -aspirations, hopes, and thoughts? Who was doing this? And Pierre -felt that it was no one. - -It was a system- a concurrence of circumstances. - -A system of some sort was killing him- Pierre- depriving him of -life, of everything, annihilating him. - -CHAPTER XI - -From Prince Shcherbatov's house the prisoners were led straight down -the Virgin's Field, to the left of the nunnery, as far as a kitchen -garden in which a post had been set up. Beyond that post a fresh pit -had been dug in the ground, and near the post and the pit a large -crowd stood in a semicircle. The crowd consisted of a few Russians and -many of Napoleon's soldiers who were not on duty- Germans, Italians, -and Frenchmen, in a variety of uniforms. To the right and left of -the post stood rows of French troops in blue uniforms with red -epaulets and high boots and shakos. - -The prisoners were placed in a certain order, according to the -list (Pierre was sixth), and were led to the post. Several drums -suddenly began to beat on both sides of them, and at that sound Pierre -felt as if part of his soul had been torn away. He lost the power of -thinking or understanding. He could only hear and see. And he had only -one wish- that the frightful thing that had to happen should happen -quickly. Pierre looked round at his fellow prisoners and scrutinized -them. - -The two first were convicts with shaven heads. One was tall and -thin, the other dark, shaggy, and sinewy, with a flat nose. The -third was a domestic serf, about forty-five years old, with grizzled -hair and a plump, well-nourished body. The fourth was a peasant, a -very handsome man with a broad, light-brown beard and black eyes. -The fifth was a factory hand, a thin, sallow-faced lad of eighteen -in a loose coat. - -Pierre heard the French consulting whether to shoot them -separately or two at a time. "In couples," replied the officer in -command in a calm voice. There was a stir in the ranks of the soldiers -and it was evident that they were all hurrying- not as men hurry to do -something they understand, but as people hurry to finish a necessary -but unpleasant and incomprehensible task. - -A French official wearing a scarf came up to the right of the row of -prisoners and read out the sentence in Russian and in French. - -Then two pairs of Frenchmen approached the criminals and at the -officer's command took the two convicts who stood first in the row. -The convicts stopped when they reached the post and, while sacks -were being brought, looked dumbly around as a wounded beast looks at -an approaching huntsman. One crossed himself continually, the other -scratched his back and made a movement of the lips resembling a smile. -With hurried hands the soldiers blindfolded them, drawing the sacks -over their heads, and bound them to the post. - -Twelve sharpshooters with muskets stepped out of the ranks with a -firm regular tread and halted eight paces from the post. Pierre turned -away to avoid seeing what was going to happen. Suddenly a crackling, -rolling noise was heard which seemed to him louder than the most -terrific thunder, and he looked round. There was some smoke, and the -Frenchmen were doing something near the pit, with pale faces and -trembling hands. Two more prisoners were led up. In the same way and -with similar looks, these two glanced vainly at the onlookers with -only a silent appeal for protection in their eyes, evidently unable to -understand or believe what was going to happen to them. They could not -believe it because they alone knew what their life meant to them, -and so they neither understood nor believed that it could be taken -from them. - -Again Pierre did not wish to look and again turned away; but again -the sound as of a frightful explosion struck his ear, and at the -same moment he saw smoke, blood, and the pale, scared faces of the -Frenchmen who were again doing something by the post, their -trembling hands impeding one another. Pierre, breathing heavily, -looked around as if asking what it meant. The same question was -expressed in all the looks that met his. - -On the faces of all the Russians and of the French soldiers and -officers without exception, he read the same dismay, horror, and -conflict that were in his own heart. "But who, after all, is doing -this? They are all suffering as I am. Who then is it? Who?" flashed -for an instant through his mind. - -"Sharpshooters of the 86th, forward!" shouted someone. The fifth -prisoner, the one next to Pierre, was led away- alone. Pierre did -not understand that he was saved, that he and the rest had been -brought there only to witness the execution. With ever-growing horror, -and no sense of joy or relief, he gazed at what was taking place. -The fifth man was the factory lad in the loose cloak. The moment -they laid hands on him he sprang aside in terror and clutched at -Pierre. (Pierre shuddered and shook himself free.) The lad was -unable to walk. They dragged him along, holding him up under the arms, -and he screamed. When they got him to the post he grew quiet, as if he -suddenly understood something. Whether he understood that screaming -was useless or whether he thought it incredible that men should kill -him, at any rate he took his stand at the post, waiting to be -blindfolded like the others, and like a wounded animal looked around -him with glittering eyes. - -Pierre was no longer able to turn away and close his eyes. His -curiosity and agitation, like that of the whole crowd, reached the -highest pitch at this fifth murder. Like the others this fifth man -seemed calm; he wrapped his loose cloak closer and rubbed one bare -foot with the other. - -When they began to blindfold him he himself adjusted the knot -which hurt the back of his head; then when they propped him against -the bloodstained post, he leaned back and, not being comfortable in -that position, straightened himself, adjusted his feet, and leaned -back again more comfortably. Pierre did not take his eyes from him and -did not miss his slightest movement. - -Probably a word of command was given and was followed by the reports -of eight muskets; but try as he would Pierre could not afterwards -remember having heard the slightest sound of the shots. He only saw -how the workman suddenly sank down on the cords that held him, how -blood showed itself in two places, how the ropes slackened under the -weight of the hanging body, and how the workman sat down, his head -hanging unnaturally and one leg bent under him. Pierre ran up to the -post. No one hindered him. Pale, frightened people were doing -something around the workman. The lower jaw of an old Frenchman with a -thick mustache trembled as he untied the ropes. The body collapsed. -The soldiers dragged it awkwardly from the post and began pushing it -into the pit. - -They all plainly and certainly knew that they were criminals who -must hide the traces of their guilt as quickly as possible. - -Pierre glanced into the pit and saw that the factory lad was lying -with his knees close up to his head and one shoulder higher than the -other. That shoulder rose and fell rhythmically and convulsively, -but spadefuls of earth were already being thrown over the whole -body. One of the soldiers, evidently suffering, shouted gruffly and -angrily at Pierre to go back. But Pierre did not understand him and -remained near the post, and no one drove him away. - -When the pit had been filled up a command was given. Pierre was -taken back to his place, and the rows of troops on both sides of the -post made a half turn and went past it at a measured pace. The -twenty-four sharpshooters with discharged muskets, standing in the -center of the circle, ran back to their places as the companies passed -by. - -Pierre gazed now with dazed eyes at these sharpshooters who ran in -couples out of the circle. All but one rejoined their companies. -This one, a young soldier, his face deadly pale, his shako pushed -back, and his musket resting on the ground, still stood near the pit -at the spot from which he had fired. He swayed like a drunken man, -taking some steps forward and back to save himself from falling. An -old, noncommissioned officer ran out of the ranks and taking him by -the elbow dragged him to his company. The crowd of Russians and -Frenchmen began to disperse. They all went away silently and with -drooping heads. - -"That will teach them to start fires," said one of the Frenchmen. - -Pierre glanced round at the speaker and saw that it was a soldier -who was trying to find some relief after what had been done, but was -not able to do so. Without finishing what he had begun to say he -made a hopeless movement with his arm and went away. - -CHAPTER XII - -After the execution Pierre was separated from the rest of the -prisoners and placed alone in a small, ruined, and befouled church. - -Toward evening a noncommissioned officer entered with two soldiers -and told him that he had been pardoned and would now go to the -barracks for the prisoners of war. Without understanding what was said -to him, Pierre got up and went with the soldiers. They took him to the -upper end of the field, where there were some sheds built of charred -planks, beams, and battens, and led him into one of them. In the -darkness some twenty different men surrounded Pierre. He looked at -them without understanding who they were, why they were there, or what -they wanted of him. He heard what they said, but did not understand -the meaning of the words and made no kind of deduction from or -application of them. He replied to questions they put to him, but -did not consider who was listening to his replies, nor how they -would understand them. He looked at their faces and figures, but -they all seemed to him equally meaningless. - -From the moment Pierre had witnessed those terrible murders -committed by men who did not wish to commit them, it was as if the -mainspring of his life, on which everything depended and which made -everything appear alive, had suddenly been wrenched out and everything -had collapsed into a heap of meaningless rubbish. Though he did not -acknowledge it to himself, his faith in the right ordering of the -universe, in humanity, in his own soul, and in God, had been -destroyed. He had experienced this before, but never so strongly as -now. When similar doubts had assailed him before, they had been the -result of his own wrongdoing, and at the bottom of his heart he had -felt that relief from his despair and from those doubts was to be -found within himself. But now he felt that the universe had crumbled -before his eyes and only meaningless ruins remained, and this not by -any fault of his own. He felt that it was not in his power to regain -faith in the meaning of life. - -Around him in the darkness men were standing and evidently something -about him interested them greatly. They were telling him something and -asking him something. Then they led him away somewhere, and at last he -found himself in a corner of the shed among men who were laughing -and talking on all sides. - -"Well, then, mates... that very prince who..." some voice at the -other end of the shed was saying, with a strong emphasis on the word -who. - -Sitting silent and motionless on a heap of straw against the wall, -Pierre sometimes opened and sometimes closed his eyes. But as soon -as he closed them he saw before him the dreadful face of the factory -lad- especially dreadful because of its simplicity- and the faces of -the murderers, even more dreadful because of their disquiet. And he -opened his eyes again and stared vacantly into the darkness around -him. - -Beside him in a stooping position sat a small man of whose -presence he was first made aware by a strong smell of perspiration -which came from him every time he moved. This man was doing -something to his legs in the darkness, and though Pierre could not see -his face he felt that the man continually glanced at him. On growing -used to the darkness Pierre saw that the man was taking off his leg -bands, and the way he did it aroused Pierre's interest. - -Having unwound the string that tied the band on one leg, he -carefully coiled it up and immediately set to work on the other leg, -glancing up at Pierre. While one hand hung up the first string the -other was already unwinding the band on the second leg. In this way, -having carefully removed the leg bands by deft circular motions of his -arm following one another uninterruptedly, the man hung the leg -bands up on some pegs fixed above his head. Then he took out a -knife, cut something, closed the knife, placed it under the head of -his bed, and, seating himself comfortably, clasped his arms round -his lifted knees and fixed his eyes on Pierre. The latter was -conscious of something pleasant, comforting, and well rounded in these -deft movements, in the man's well-ordered arrangements in his -corner, and even in his very smell, and he looked at the man without -taking his eyes from him. - -"You've seen a lot of trouble, sir, eh?" the little man suddenly -said. - -And there was so much kindliness and simplicity in his singsong -voice that Pierre tried to reply, but his jaw trembled and he felt -tears rising to his eyes. The little fellow, giving Pierre no time -to betray his confusion, instantly continued in the same pleasant -tones: - -"Eh, lad, don't fret!" said he, in the tender singsong caressing -voice old Russian peasant women employ. "Don't fret, friend- 'suffer -an hour, live for an age!' that's how it is, my dear fellow. And -here we live, thank heaven, without offense. Among these folk, too, -there are good men as well as bad," said he, and still speaking, he -turned on his knees with a supple movement, got up, coughed, and -went off to another part of the shed. - -"Eh, you rascal!" Pierre heard the same kind voice saying at the -other end of the shed. "So you've come, you rascal? She remembers... -Now, now, that'll do!" - -And the soldier, pushing away a little dog that was jumping up at -him, returned to his place and sat down. In his hands he had something -wrapped in a rag. - -"Here, eat a bit, sir," said he, resuming his former respectful tone -as he unwrapped and offered Pierre some baked potatoes. "We had soup -for dinner and the potatoes are grand!" - -Pierre had not eaten all day and the smell of the potatoes seemed -extremely pleasant to him. He thanked the soldier and began to eat. - -"Well, are they all right?" said the soldier with a smile. "You -should do like this." - -He took a potato, drew out his clasp knife, cut the potato into -two equal halves on the palm of his hand, sprinkled some salt on it -from the rag, and handed it to Pierre. - -"The potatoes are grand!" he said once more. "Eat some like that!" - -Pierre thought he had never eaten anything that tasted better. - -"Oh, I'm all right," said he, "but why did they shoot those poor -fellows? The last one was hardly twenty." - -"Tss, tt...!" said the little man. "Ah, what a sin... what a sin!" -he added quickly, and as if his words were always waiting ready in his -mouth and flew out involuntarily he went on: "How was it, sir, that -you stayed in Moscow?" - -"I didn't think they would come so soon. I stayed accidentally," -replied Pierre. - -"And how did they arrest you, dear lad? At your house?" - -"No, I went to look at the fire, and they arrested me there, and -tried me as an incendiary." - -"Where there's law there's injustice," put in the little man. - -"And have you been here long?" Pierre asked as he munched the last -of the potato. - -"I? It was last Sunday they took me, out of a hospital in Moscow." - -"Why, are you a soldier then?" - -"Yes, we are soldiers of the Apsheron regiment. I was dying of -fever. We weren't told anything. There were some twenty of us lying -there. We had no idea, never guessed at all." - -"And do you feel sad here?" Pierre inquired. - -"How can one help it, lad? My name is Platon, and the surname is -Karataev," he added, evidently wishing to make it easier for Pierre to -address him. "They call me 'little falcon' in the regiment. How is one -to help feeling sad? Moscow- she's the mother of cities. How can one -see all this and not feel sad? But 'the maggot gnaws the cabbage, -yet dies first'; that's what the old folks used to tell us," he -added rapidly. - -"What? What did you say?" asked Pierre. - -"Who? I?" said Karataev. "I say things happen not as we plan but -as God judges," he replied, thinking that he was repeating what he had -said before, and immediately continued: - -"Well, and you, have you a family estate, sir? And a house? So you -have abundance, then? And a housewife? And your old parents, are -they still living?" he asked. - -And though it was too dark for Pierre to see, he felt that a -suppressed smile of kindliness puckered the soldier's lips as he put -these questions. He seemed grieved that Pierre had no parents, -especially that he had no mother. - -"A wife for counsel, a mother-in-law for welcome, but there's none -as dear as one's own mother!" said he. "Well, and have you little -ones?" he went on asking. - -Again Pierre's negative answer seemed to distress him, and he -hastened to add: - -"Never mind! You're young folks yet, and please God may still have -some. The great thing is to live in harmony...." - -"But it's all the same now," Pierre could not help saying. - -"Ah, my dear fellow!" rejoined Karataev, "never decline a prison -or a beggar's sack!" - -He seated himself more comfortably and coughed, evidently -preparing to tell a long story. - -"Well, my dear fellow, I was still living at home," he began. "We -had a well-to-do homestead, plenty of land, we peasants lived well and -our house was one to thank God for. When Father and we went out mowing -there were seven of us. We lived well. We were real peasants. It so -happened..." - -And Platon Karataev told a long story of how he had gone into -someone's copse to take wood, how he had been caught by the keeper, -had been tried, flogged, and sent to serve as a soldier. - -"Well, lad," and a smile changed the tone of his voice "we thought -it was a misfortune but it turned out a blessing! If it had not been -for my sin, my brother would have had to go as a soldier. But he, my -younger brother, had five little ones, while I, you see, only left a -wife behind. We had a little girl, but God took her before I went as a -soldier. I come home on leave and I'll tell you how it was, I look and -see that they are living better than before. The yard full of -cattle, the women at home, two brothers away earning wages, and only -Michael the youngest, at home. Father, he says, 'All my children are -the same to me: it hurts the same whichever finger gets bitten. But if -Platon hadn't been shaved for a soldier, Michael would have had to -go.' called us all to him and, will you believe it, placed us in front -of the icons. 'Michael,' he says, 'come here and bow down to his feet; -and you, young woman, you bow down too; and you, grandchildren, also -bow down before him! Do you understand?' he says. That's how it is, -dear fellow. Fate looks for a head. But we are always judging, 'that's -not well- that's not right!' Our luck is like water in a dragnet: -you pull at it and it bulges, but when you've drawn it out it's empty! -That's how it is." - -And Platon shifted his seat on the straw. - -After a short silence he rose. - -"Well, I think you must be sleepy," said he, and began rapidly -crossing himself and repeating: - -"Lord Jesus Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus -Christ, holy Saint Nicholas, Frola and Lavra! Lord Jesus Christ, -have mercy on us and save us!" he concluded, then bowed to the ground, -got up, sighed, and sat down again on his heap of straw. "That's the -way. Lay me down like a stone, O God, and raise me up like a loaf," he -muttered as he lay down, pulling his coat over him. - -"What prayer was that you were saying?" asked Pierre. - -"Eh?" murmured Platon, who had almost fallen asleep. "What was I -saying? I was praying. Don't you pray?" - -"Yes, I do," said Pierre. "But what was that you said: Frola and -Lavra?" - -"Well, of course," replied Platon quickly, "the horses' saints. -One must pity the animals too. Eh, the rascal! Now you've curled up -and got warm, you daughter of a bitch!" said Karataev, touching the -dog that lay at his feet, and again turning over he fell asleep -immediately. - -Sounds of crying and screaming came from somewhere in the distance -outside, and flames were visible through the cracks of the shed, but -inside it was quiet and dark. For a long time Pierre did not sleep, -but lay with eyes open in the darkness, listening to the regular -snoring of Platon who lay beside him, and he felt that the world -that had been shattered was once more stirring in his soul with a -new beauty and on new and unshakable foundations. - -CHAPTER XIII - -Twenty-three soldiers, three officers, and two officials were -confined in the shed in which Pierre had been placed and where he -remained for four weeks. - -When Pierre remembered them afterwards they all seemed misty figures -to him except Platon Karataev, who always remained in his mind a -most vivid and precious memory and the personification of everything -Russian, kindly, and round. When Pierre saw his neighbor next -morning at dawn the first impression of him, as of something round, -was fully confirmed: Platon's whole figure- in a French overcoat -girdled with a cord, a soldier's cap, and bast shoes- was round. His -head was quite round, his back, chest, shoulders, and even his arms, -which he held as if ever ready to embrace something, were rounded, his -pleasant smile and his large, gentle brown eyes were also round. - -Platon Karataev must have been fifty, judging by his stories of -campaigns he had been in, told as by an old soldier. He did not -himself know his age and was quite unable to determine it. But his -brilliantly white, strong teeth which showed in two unbroken -semicircles when he laughed- as he often did- were all sound and good, -there was not a gray hair in his beard or on his head, and his whole -body gave an impression of suppleness and especially of firmness and -endurance. - -His face, despite its fine, rounded wrinkles, had an expression of -innocence and youth, his voice was pleasant and musical. But the chief -peculiarity of his speech was its directness and appositeness. It -was evident that he never considered what he had said or was going -to say, and consequently the rapidity and justice of his intonation -had an irresistible persuasiveness. - -His physical strength and agility during the first days of his -imprisonment were such that he seemed not to know what fatigue and -sickness meant. Every night before lying down, he said: "Lord, lay -me down as a stone and raise me up as a loaf!" and every morning on -getting up, he said: "I lay down and curled up, I get up and shake -myself." And indeed he only had to lie down, to fall asleep like a -stone, and he only had to shake himself, to be ready without a -moment's delay for some work, just as children are ready to play -directly they awake. He could do everything, not very well but not -badly. He baked, cooked, sewed, planed, and mended boots. He was -always busy, and only at night allowed himself conversation- of -which he was fond- and songs. He did not sing like a trained singer -who knows he is listened to, but like the birds, evidently giving vent -to the sounds in the same way that one stretches oneself or walks -about to get rid of stiffness, and the sounds were always -high-pitched, mournful, delicate, and almost feminine, and his face at -such times was very serious. - -Having been taken prisoner and allowed his beard to grow, he -seemed to have thrown off all that had been forced upon him- -everything military and alien to himself- and had returned to his -former peasant habits. - -"A soldier on leave- a shirt outside breeches," he would say. - -He did not like talking about his life as a soldier, though he did -not complain, and often mentioned that he had not been flogged once -during the whole of his army service. When he related anything it -was generally some old and evidently precious memory of his -"Christian" life, as he called his peasant existence. The proverbs, of -which his talk was full, were for the most part not the coarse and -indecent saws soldiers employ, but those folk sayings which taken -without a context seem so insignificant, but when used appositely -suddenly acquire a significance of profound wisdom. - -He would often say the exact opposite of what he had said on a -previous occasion, yet both would be right. He liked to talk and he -talked well, adorning his speech with terms of endearment and with -folk sayings which Pierre thought he invented himself, but the chief -charm of his talk lay in the fact that the commonest events- sometimes -just such as Pierre had witnessed without taking notice of them- -assumed in Karataev's a character of solemn fitness. He liked to -hear the folk tales one of the soldiers used to tell of an evening -(they were always the same), but most of all he liked to hear -stories of real life. He would smile joyfully when listening to such -stories, now and then putting in a word or asking a question to make -the moral beauty of what he was told clear to himself. Karataev had no -attachments, friendships, or love, as Pierre understood them, but -loved and lived affectionately with everything life brought him in -contact with, particularly with man- not any particular man, but those -with whom he happened to be. He loved his dog, his comrades, the -French, and Pierre who was his neighbor, but Pierre felt that in spite -of Karataev's affectionate tenderness for him (by which he -unconsciously gave Pierre's spiritual life its due) he would not -have grieved for a moment at parting from him. And Pierre began to -feel in the same way toward Karataev. - -To all the other prisoners Platon Karataev seemed a most ordinary -soldier. They called him "little falcon" or "Platosha," chaffed him -good-naturedly, and sent him on errands. But to Pierre he always -remained what he had seemed that first night: an unfathomable, -rounded, eternal personification of the spirit of simplicity and -truth. - -Platon Karataev knew nothing by heart except his prayers. When he -began to speak he seemed not to know how he would conclude. - -Sometimes Pierre, struck by the meaning of his words, would ask -him to repeat them, but Platon could never recall what he had said a -moment before, just as he never could repeat to Pierre the words of -his favorite song: native and birch tree and my heart is sick occurred -in it, but when spoken and not sung, no meaning could be got out of -it. He did not, and could not, understand the meaning of words apart -from their context. Every word and action of his was the manifestation -of an activity unknown to him, which was his life. But his life, as he -regarded it, had no meaning as a separate thing. It had meaning only -as part of a whole of which he was always conscious. His words and -actions flowed from him as evenly, inevitably, and spontaneously as -fragrance exhales from a flower. He could not understand the value -or significance of any word or deed taken separately. - -CHAPTER XIV - -When Princess Mary heard from Nicholas that her brother was with the -Rostovs at Yaroslavl she at once prepared to go there, in spite of her -aunt's efforts to dissuade her- and not merely to go herself but to -take her nephew with her. Whether it were difficult or easy, -possible or impossible, she did not ask and did not want to know: it -was her duty not only herself to be near her brother who was perhaps -dying, but to do everything possible to take his son to him, and so -she prepared to set off. That she had not heard from Prince Andrew -himself, Princess Mary attributed to his being too weak to write or to -his considering the long journey too hard and too dangerous for her -and his son. - -In a few days Princess Mary was ready to start. Her equipages were -the huge family coach in which she had traveled to Voronezh, a -semiopen trap, and a baggage cart. With her traveled Mademoiselle -Bourienne, little Nicholas and his tutor, her old nurse, three -maids, Tikhon, and a young footman and courier her aunt had sent to -accompany her. - -The usual route through Moscow could not be thought of, and the -roundabout way Princess Mary was obliged to take through Lipetsk, -Ryazan, Vladimir, and Shuya was very long and, as post horses were not -everywhere obtainable, very difficult, and near Ryazan where the -French were said to have shown themselves was even dangerous. - -During this difficult journey Mademoiselle Bourienne, Dessalles, and -Princess Mary's servants were astonished at her energy and firmness of -spirit. She went to bed later and rose earlier than any of them, and -no difficulties daunted her. Thanks to her activity and energy, -which infected her fellow travelers, they approached Yaroslavl by -the end of the second week. - -The last days of her stay in Voronezh had been the happiest of her -life. Her love for Rostov no longer tormented or agitated her. It -filled her whole soul, had become an integral part of herself, and she -no longer struggled against it. Latterly she had become convinced that -she loved and was beloved, though she never said this definitely to -herself in words. She had become convinced of it at her last interview -with Nicholas, when he had come to tell her that her brother was -with the Rostovs. Not by a single word had Nicholas alluded to the -fact that Prince Andrew's relations with Natasha might, if he -recovered, be renewed, but Princess Mary saw by his face that he -knew and thought of this. - -Yet in spite of that, his relation to her- considerate, delicate, -and loving- not only remained unchanged, but it sometimes seemed to -Princess Mary that he was even glad that the family connection between -them allowed him to express his friendship more freely. She knew -that she loved for the first and only time in her life and felt that -she was beloved, and was happy in regard to it. - -But this happiness on one side of her spiritual nature did not -prevent her feeling grief for her brother with full force; on the -contrary, that spiritual tranquility on the one side made it the -more possible for her to give full play to her feeling for her -brother. That feeling was so strong at the moment of leaving -Voronezh that those who saw her off, as they looked at her careworn, -despairing face, felt sure she would fall ill on the journey. But -the very difficulties and preoccupations of the journey, which she -took so actively in hand, saved her for a while from her grief and -gave her strength. - -As always happens when traveling, Princess Mary thought only of -the journey itself, forgetting its object. But as she approached -Yaroslavl the thought of what might await her there- not after many -days, but that very evening- again presented itself to her and her -agitation increased to its utmost limit. - -The courier who had been sent on in advance to find out where the -Rostovs were staying in Yaroslavl, and in what condition Prince Andrew -was, when he met the big coach just entering the town gates was -appalled by the terrible pallor of the princess' face that looked -out at him from the window. - -"I have found out everything, your excellency: the Rostovs are -staying at the merchant Bronnikov's house, in the Square not far -from here, right above the Volga," said the courier. - -Princess Mary looked at him with frightened inquiry, not -understanding why he did not reply to what she chiefly wanted to know: -how was her brother? Mademoiselle Bourienne put that question for her. - -"How is the prince?" she asked. - -"His excellency is staying in the same house with them." - -"Then he is alive," thought Princess Mary, and asked in a low voice: -"How is he?" - -"The servants say he is still the same." - -What "still the same" might mean Princess Mary did not ask, but with -an unnoticed glance at little seven-year-old Nicholas, who was sitting -in front of her looking with pleasure at the town, she bowed her -head and did not raise it again till the heavy coach, rumbling, -shaking and swaying, came to a stop. The carriage steps clattered as -they were let down. - -The carriage door was opened. On the left there was water- a great -river- and on the right a porch. There were people at the entrance: -servants, and a rosy girl with a large plait of black hair, smiling as -it seemed to Princess Mary in an unpleasantly affected way. (This -was Sonya.) Princess Mary ran up the steps. "This way, this way!" said -the girl, with the same artificial smile, and the princess found -herself in the hall facing an elderly woman of Oriental type, who came -rapidly to meet her with a look of emotion. This was the countess. She -embraced Princess Mary and kissed her. - -"Mon enfant!" she muttered, "je vous aime et vous connais depuis -longtemps."~{ "My child! I love you and have known you a long time." }~ - -Despite her excitement, Princess Mary realized that this was the -countess and that it was necessary to say something to her. Hardly -knowing how she did it, she contrived to utter a few polite phrases in -French in the same tone as those that had been addressed to her, and -asked: "How is he?" - -"The doctor says that he is not in danger," said the countess, but -as she spoke she raised her eyes with a sigh, and her gesture conveyed -a contradiction of her words. - -"Where is he? Can I see him- can I?" asked the princess. - -"One moment, Princess, one moment, my dear! Is this his son?" said -the countess, turning to little Nicholas who was coming in with -Dessalles. "There will be room for everybody, this is a big house. Oh, -what a lovely boy!" - -The countess took Princess Mary into the drawing room, where Sonya -was talking to Mademoiselle Bourienne. The countess caressed the -boy, and the old count came in and welcomed the princess. He had -changed very much since Princess Mary had last seen him. Then he had -been a brisk, cheerful, self-assured old man; now he seemed a pitiful, -bewildered person. While talking to Princess Mary he continually -looked round as if asking everyone whether he was doing the right -thing. After the destruction of Moscow and of his property, thrown out -of his accustomed groove he seemed to have lost the sense of his own -significance and to feel that there was no longer a place for him in -life. - -In spite of her one desire to see her brother as soon as possible, -and her vexation that at the moment when all she wanted was to see him -they should be trying to entertain her and pretending to admire her -nephew, the princess noticed all that was going on around her and felt -the necessity of submitting, for a time, to this new order of things -which she had entered. She knew it to be necessary, and though it -was hard for her she was not vexed with these people. - -"This is my niece," said the count, introducing Sonya- "You don't -know her, Princess?" - -Princess Mary turned to Sonya and, trying to stifle the hostile -feeling that arose in her toward the girl, she kissed her. But she -felt oppressed by the fact that the mood of everyone around her was so -far from what was in her own heart. - -"Where is he?" she asked again, addressing them all. - -"He is downstairs. Natasha is with him," answered Sonya, flushing. -"We have sent to ask. I think you must be tired, Princess." - -Tears of vexation showed themselves in Princess Mary's eyes. She -turned away and was about to ask the countess again how to go to -him, when light, impetuous, and seemingly buoyant steps were heard -at the door. The princess looked round and saw Natasha coming in, -almost running- that Natasha whom she had liked so little at their -meeting in Moscow long since. - -But hardly had the princess looked at Natasha's face before she -realized that here was a real comrade in her grief, and consequently a -friend. She ran to meet her, embraced her, and began to cry on her -shoulder. - -As soon as Natasha, sitting at the head of Prince Andrew's bed, -heard of Princess Mary's arrival, she softly left his room and -hastened to her with those swift steps that had sounded buoyant to -Princess Mary. - -There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into -the drawing room- that of love- boundless love for him, for her, and -for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for -others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping -them. It was plain that at that moment there was in Natasha's heart no -thought of herself or of her own relations with Prince Andrew. - -Princess Mary, with her acute sensibility, understood all this at -the first glance at Natasha's face, and wept on her shoulder with -sorrowful pleasure. - -"Come, come to him, Mary," said Natasha, leading her into the -other room. - -Princess Mary raised her head, dried her eyes, and turned to -Natasha. She felt that from her she would be able to understand and -learn everything. - -"How..." she began her question but stopped short. - -She felt that it was impossible to ask, or to answer, in words. -Natasha's face eyes would eyes would have to tell her all more clearly -and profoundly. - -Natasha was gazing at her, but seemed afraid and in doubt whether to -say all she knew or not; she seemed to feel that before those luminous -eyes which penetrated into the very depths of her heart, it was -impossible not to tell the whole truth which she saw. And suddenly, -Natasha's lips twitched, ugly wrinkles gathered round her mouth, and -covering her face with her hands she burst into sobs. - -Princess Mary understood. - -But she still hoped, and asked, in words she herself did not trust: - -"But how is his wound? What is his general condition?" - -"You, you... will see," was all Natasha could say. - -They sat a little while downstairs near his room till they had -left off crying and were able to go to him with calm faces. - -"How has his whole illness gone? Is it long since he grew worse? -When did this happen?" Princess Mary inquired. - -Natasha told her that at first there had been danger from his -feverish condition and the pain he suffered, but at Troitsa that had -passed and the doctor had only been afraid of gangrene. That danger -had also passed. When they reached Yaroslavl the wound had begun to -fester (Natasha knew all about such things as festering) and the -doctor had said that the festering might take a normal course. Then -fever set in, but the doctor had said the fever was not very serious. - -"But two days ago this suddenly happened," said Natasha, -struggling with her sobs. "I don't know why, but you will see what -he is like." - -"Is he weaker? Thinner?" asked the princess. - -"No, it's not that, but worse. You will see. O, Mary, he is too -good, he cannot, cannot live, because..." - -CHAPTER XV - -When Natasha opened Prince Andrew's door with a familiar movement -and let Princess Mary pass into the room before her, the princess felt -the sobs in her throat. Hard as she had tried to prepare herself, -and now tried to remain tranquil, she knew that she would be unable to -look at him without tears. - -The princess understood what Natasha had meant by the words: "two -days ago this suddenly happened." She understood those words to mean -that he had suddenly softened and that this softening and gentleness -were signs of approaching death. As she stepped to the door she -already saw in imagination Andrew's face as she remembered it in -childhood, a gentle, mild, sympathetic face which he had rarely shown, -and which therefore affected her very strongly. She was sure he -would speak soft, tender words to her such as her father had uttered -before his death, and that she would not be able to bear it and -would burst into sobs in his presence. Yet sooner or later it had to -be, and she went in. The sobs rose higher and higher in her throat -as she more and more clearly distinguished his form and her -shortsighted eyes tried to make out his features, and then she saw his -face and met his gaze. - -He was lying in a squirrel-fur dressing gown on a divan, -surrounded by pillows. He was thin and pale. In one thin, -translucently white hand he held a handkerchief, while with the -other he stroked the delicate mustache he had grown, moving his -fingers slowly. His eyes gazed at them as they entered. - -On seeing his face and meeting his eyes Princess Mary's pace -suddenly slackened, she felt her tears dry up and her sobs ceased. She -suddenly felt guilty and grew timid on catching the expression of -his face and eyes. - -"But in what am I to blame?" she asked herself. And his cold, -stern look replied: "Because you are alive and thinking of the living, -while I..." - -In the deep the deep gaze that seemed to look not outwards but -inwards there was an almost hostile expression as he slowly regarded -his sister and Natasha. - -He kissed his sister, holding her hand in his as was their wont. - -"How are you, Mary? How did you manage to get here?" said he in a -voice as calm and aloof as his look. - -Had he screamed in agony, that scream would not have struck such -horror into Princess Mary's heart as the tone of his voice. - -"And have you brought little Nicholas?" he asked in the same slow, -quiet manner and with an obvious effort to remember. - -"How are you now?" said Princess Mary, herself surprised at what she -was saying. - -"That, my dear, you must ask the doctor," he replied, and again -making an evident effort to be affectionate, he said with his lips -only (his words clearly did not correspond to his thoughts): - -"Merci, chere amie, d'etre venue."~{ "Thank you for coming, my dear." }~ - -Princess Mary pressed his hand. The pressure made him wince just -perceptibly. He was silent, and she did not know what to say. She -now understood what had happened to him two days before. In his words, -his tone, and especially in that calm, almost antagonistic look -could be felt an estrangement from everything belonging to this world, -terrible in one who is alive. Evidently only with an effort did he -understand anything living; but it was obvious that he failed to -understand, not because he lacked the power to do so but because he -understood something else- something the living did not and could -not understand- and which wholly occupied his mind. - -"There, you see how strangely fate has brought us together," said -he, breaking the silence and pointing to Natasha. "She looks after -me all the time." - -Princess Mary heard him and did not understand how he could say such -a thing. He, the sensitive, tender Prince Andrew, how could he say -that, before her whom he loved and who loved him? Had he expected to -live he could not have said those words in that offensively cold tone. -If he had not known that he was dying, how could he have failed to -pity her and how could he speak like that in her presence? The only -explanation was that he was indifferent, because something else, -much more important, had been revealed to him. - -The conversation was cold and disconnected and continually broke -off. - -"Mary came by way of Ryazan," said Natasha. - -Prince Andrew did not notice that she called his sister Mary, and -only after calling her so in his presence did Natasha notice it -herself. - -"Really?" he asked. - -"They told her that all Moscow has been burned down, and that..." - -Natasha stopped. It was impossible to talk. It was plain that he was -making an effort to listen, but could not do so. - -"Yes, they say it's burned," he said. "It's a great pity," and he -gazed straight before him, absently stroking his mustache with his -fingers. - -"And so you have met Count Nicholas, Mary?" Prince Andrew suddenly -said, evidently wishing to speak pleasantly to them. "He wrote here -that he took a great liking to you," he went on simply and calmly, -evidently unable to understand all the complex significance his -words had for living people. "If you liked him too, it would be a good -thing for you to get married," he added rather more quickly, as if -pleased at having found words he had long been seeking. - -Princess Mary heard his words but they had no meaning for her, -except as a proof of how far away he now was from everything living. - -"Why talk of me?" she said quietly and glanced at Natasha. - -Natasha, who felt her glance, did not look at her. All three were -again silent. - -"Andrew, would you like..." Princess Mary suddenly said in a -trembling voice, "would you like to see little Nicholas? He is -always talking about you!" - -Prince Andrew smiled just perceptibly and for the first time, but -Princess Mary, who knew his face so well, saw with horror that he -did not smile with pleasure or affection for his son, but with -quiet, gentle irony because he thought she was trying what she -believed to be the last means of arousing him. - -"Yes, I shall be very glad to see him. Is he quite well?" - -When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked -at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one -else was crying. Prince Andrew kissed him and evidently did not know -what to say to him. - -When Nicholas had been led away, Princess Mary again went up to -her brother, kissed him, and unable to restrain her tears any longer -began to cry. - -He looked at her attentively. - -"Is it about Nicholas?" he asked. - -Princess Mary nodded her head, weeping. - -"Mary, you know the Gosp..." but he broke off. - -"What did you say?" - -"Nothing. You mustn't cry here," he said, looking at her with the -same cold expression. - -When Princess Mary began to cry, he understood that she was crying -at the thought that little Nicholas would be left without a father. -With a great effort he tried to return to life and to see things -from their point of view. - -"Yes, to them it must seem sad!" he thought. "But how simple it is. - -"The fowls of the air sow not, neither do they reap, yet your Father -feedeth them," he said to himself and wished to say to Princess -Mary; "but no, they will take it their own way, they won't understand! -They can't understand that all those feelings they prize so- all our -feelings, all those ideas that seem so important to us, are -unnecessary. We cannot understand one another," and he remained -silent. - -Prince Andrew's little son was seven. He could scarcely read, and -knew nothing. After that day he lived through many things, gaining -knowledge, observation, and experience, but had he possessed all the -faculties he afterwards acquired, he could not have had a better or -more profound understanding of the meaning of the scene he had -witnessed between his father, Mary, and Natasha, than he had then. -He understood it completely, and, leaving the room without crying, -went silently up to Natasha who had come out with him and looked shyly -at her with his beautiful, thoughtful eyes, then his uplifted, rosy -upper lip trembled and leaning his head against her he began to cry. - -After that he avoided Dessalles and the countess who caressed him -and either sat alone or came timidly to Princess Mary, or to Natasha -of whom he seemed even fonder than of his aunt, and clung to them -quietly and shyly. - -When Princess Mary had left Prince Andrew she fully understood -what Natasha's face had told her. She did not speak any more to -Natasha of hopes of saving his life. She took turns with her beside -his sofa, and did not cry any more, but prayed continually, turning in -soul to that Eternal and Unfathomable, whose presence above the -dying man was now so evident. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Not only did Prince Andrew know he would die, but he felt that he -was dying and was already half dead. He was conscious of an -aloofness from everything earthly and a strange and joyous lightness -of existence. Without haste or agitation he awaited what was coming. -That inexorable, eternal, distant, and unknown the presence of which -he had felt continually all his life- was now near to him and, by -the strange lightness he experienced, almost comprehensible and -palpable... - -Formerly he had feared the end. He had twice experienced that -terribly tormenting fear of death- the end- but now he no longer -understood that fear. - -He had felt it for the first time when the shell spun like a top -before him, and he looked at the fallow field, the bushes, and the -sky, and knew that he was face to face with death. When he came to -himself after being wounded and the flower of eternal, unfettered love -had instantly unfolded itself in his soul as if freed from the bondage -of life that had restrained it, he no longer feared death and ceased -to think about it. - -During the hours of solitude, suffering, and partial delirium he -spent after he was wounded, the more deeply he penetrated into the new -principle of eternal love revealed to him, the more he unconsciously -detached himself from earthly life. To love everything and everybody -and always to sacrifice oneself for love meant not to love anyone, not -to live this earthly life. And the more imbued he became with that -principle of love, the more he renounced life and the more -completely he destroyed that dreadful barrier which- in the absence of -such love- stands between life and death. When during those first days -he remembered that he would have to die, he said to himself: "Well, -what of it? So much the better!" - -But after the night in Mytishchi when, half delirious, he had seen -her for whom he longed appear before him and, having pressed her -hand to his lips, had shed gentle, happy tears, love for a -particular woman again crept unobserved into his heart and once more -bound him to life. And joyful and agitating thoughts began to occupy -his mind. Recalling the moment at the ambulance station when he had -seen Kuragin, he could not now regain the feeling he then had, but was -tormented by the question whether Kuragin was alive. And he dared -not inquire. - -His illness pursued its normal physical course, but what Natasha -referred to when she said: "This suddenly happened," had occurred -two days before Princess Mary arrived. It was the last spiritual -struggle between life and death, in which death gained the victory. It -was the unexpected realization of the fact that he still valued life -as presented to him in the form of his love for Natasha, and a last, -though ultimately vanquished, attack of terror before the unknown. - -It was evening. As usual after dinner he was slightly feverish, -and his thoughts were preternaturally clear. Sonya was sitting by -the table. He began to doze. Suddenly a feeling of happiness seized -him. - -"Ah, she has come!" thought he. - -And so it was: in Sonya's place sat Natasha who had just come in -noiselessly. - -Since she had begun looking after him, he had always experienced -this physical consciousness of her nearness. She was sitting in an -armchair placed sideways, screening the light of the candle from -him, and was knitting a stocking. She had learned to knit stockings -since Prince Andrew had casually mentioned that no one nursed the sick -so well as old nurses who knit stockings, and that there is -something soothing in the knitting of stockings. The needles clicked -lightly in her slender, rapidly moving hands, and he could clearly see -the thoughtful profile of her drooping face. She moved, and the ball -rolled off her knees. She started, glanced round at him, and screening -the candle with her hand stooped carefully with a supple and exact -movement, picked up the ball, and regained her former position. - -He looked at her without moving and saw that she wanted to draw a -deep breath after stooping, but refrained from doing so and breathed -cautiously. - -At the Troitsa monastery they had spoken of the past, and he had -told her that if he lived he would always thank God for his wound -which had brought them together again, but after that they never spoke -of the future. - -"Can it or can it not be?" he now thought as he looked at her and -listened to the light click of the steel needles. "Can fate have -brought me to her so strangely only for me to die?... Is it possible -that the truth of life has been revealed to me only to show me that -I have spent my life in falsity? I love her more than anything in -the world! But what am I to do if I love her?" he thought, and he -involuntarily groaned, from a habit acquired during his sufferings. - -On hearing that sound Natasha put down the stocking, leaned nearer -to him, and suddenly, noticing his shining eyes, stepped lightly up to -him and bent over him. - -"You are not asleep?" - -"No, I have been looking at you a long time. I felt you come in. -No one else gives me that sense of soft tranquillity that you do... -that light. I want to weep for joy." - -Natasha drew closer to him. Her face shone with rapturous joy. - -"Natasha, I love you too much! More than anything in the world." - -"And I!"- She turned away for an instant. "Why too much?" she asked. - -"Why too much?... Well, what do you, what do you feel in your -soul, your whole soul- shall I live? What do you think?" - -"I am sure of it, sure!" Natasha almost shouted, taking hold of both -his hands with a passionate movement. - -He remained silent awhile. - -"How good it would be!" and taking her hand he kissed it. - -Natasha felt happy and agitated, but at once remembered that this -would not do and that he had to be quiet. - -"But you have not slept," she said, repressing her joy. "Try to -sleep... please!" - -He pressed her hand and released it, and she went back to the candle -and sat down again in her former position. Twice she turned and looked -at him, and her eyes met his beaming at her. She set herself a task on -her stocking and resolved not to turn round till it was finished. - -Soon he really shut his eyes and fell asleep. He did not sleep -long and suddenly awoke with a start and in a cold perspiration. - -As he fell asleep he had still been thinking of the subject that now -always occupied his mind- about life and death, and chiefly about -death. He felt himself nearer to it. - -"Love? What is love?" he thought. - -"Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I -understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, -everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it -alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall -return to the general and eternal source." These thoughts seemed to -him comforting. But they were only thoughts. Something was lacking -in them, they were not clear, they were too one-sidedly personal and -brain-spun. And there was the former agitation and obscurity. He -fell asleep. - -He dreamed that he was lying in the room he really was in, but -that he was quite well and unwounded. Many various, indifferent, and -insignificant people appeared before him. He talked to them and -discussed something trivial. They were preparing to go away somewhere. -Prince Andrew dimly realized that all this was trivial and that he had -more important cares, but he continued to speak, surprising them by -empty witticisms. Gradually, unnoticed, all these persons began to -disappear and a single question, that of the closed door, superseded -all else. He rose and went to the door to bolt and lock it. Everything -depended on whether he was, or was not, in time to lock it. He went, -and tried to hurry, but his legs refused to move and he knew he -would not be in time to lock the door though he painfully strained all -his powers. He was seized by an agonizing fear. And that fear was -the fear of death. It stood behind the door. But just when he was -clumsily creeping toward the door, that dreadful something on the -other side was already pressing against it and forcing its way in. -Something not human- death- was breaking in through that door, and had -to be kept out. He seized the door, making a final effort to hold it -back- to lock it was no longer possible- but his efforts were weak and -clumsy and the door, pushed from behind by that terror, opened and -closed again. - -Once again it pushed from outside. His last superhuman efforts -were vain and both halves of the door noiselessly opened. It -entered, and it was death, and Prince Andrew died. - -But at the instant he died, Prince Andrew remembered that he was -asleep, and at the very instant he died, having made an effort, he -awoke. - -"Yes, it was death! I died- and woke up. Yes, death is an -awakening!" And all at once it grew light in his soul and the veil -that had till then concealed the unknown was lifted from his spiritual -vision. He felt as if powers till then confined within him had been -liberated, and that strange lightness did not again leave him. - -When, waking in a cold perspiration, he moved on the divan, -Natasha went up and asked him what was the matter. He did not answer -and looked at her strangely, not understanding. - -That was what had happened to him two days before Princess Mary's -arrival. From that day, as the doctor expressed it, the wasting -fever assumed a malignant character, but what the doctor said did -not interest Natasha, she saw the terrible moral symptoms which to her -were more convincing. - -From that day an awakening from life came to Prince Andrew -together with his awakening from sleep. And compared to the duration -of life it did not seem to him slower than an awakening from sleep -compared to the duration of a dream. - -There was nothing terrible or violent in this comparatively slow -awakening. - -His last days and hours passed in an ordinary and simple way. Both -Princess Mary and Natasha, who did not leave him, felt this. They -did not weep or shudder and during these last days they themselves -felt that they were not attending on him (he was no longer there, he -had left them) but on what reminded them most closely of him- his -body. Both felt this so strongly that the outward and terrible side of -death did not affect them and they did not feel it necessary to foment -their grief. Neither in his presence nor out of it did they weep, -nor did they ever talk to one another about him. They felt that they -could not express in words what they understood. - -They both saw that he was sinking slowly and quietly, deeper and -deeper, away from them, and they both knew that this had to be so -and that it was right. - -He confessed, and received communion: everyone came to take leave of -him. When they brought his son to him, he pressed his lips to the -boy's and turned away, not because he felt it hard and sad (Princess -Mary and Natasha understood that) but simply because he thought it was -all that was required of him, but when they told him to bless the boy, -he did what was demanded and looked round as if asking whether there -was anything else he should do. - -When the last convulsions of the body, which the spirit was leaving, -occurred, Princess Mary and Natasha were present. - -"Is it over?" said Princess Mary when his body had for a few minutes -lain motionless, growing cold before them. Natasha went up, looked -at the dead eyes, and hastened to close them. She closed them but -did not kiss them, but clung to that which reminded her most nearly of -him- his body. - -"Where has he gone? Where is he now?..." - -When the body, washed and dressed, lay in the coffin on a table, -everyone came to take leave of him and they all wept. - -Little Nicholas cried because his heart was rent by painful -perplexity. The countess and Sonya cried from pity for Natasha and -because he was no more. The old count cried because he felt that -before long, he, too, must take the same terrible step. - -Natasha and Princess Mary also wept now, but not because of their -own personal grief; they wept with a reverent and softening emotion -which had taken possession of their souls at the consciousness of -the simple and solemn mystery of death that had been accomplished in -their presence. - -BOOK THIRTEEN: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -Man's mind cannot grasp the causes of events in their -completeness, but the desire to find those causes is implanted in -man's soul. And without considering the multiplicity and complexity of -the conditions any one of which taken separately may seem to be the -cause, he snatches at the first approximation to a cause that seems to -him intelligible and says: "This is the cause!" In historical events -(where the actions of men are the subject of observation) the first -and most primitive approximation to present itself was the will of the -gods and, after that, the will of those who stood in the most -prominent position- the heroes of history. But we need only -penetrate to the essence of any historic event- which lies in the -activity of the general mass of men who take part in it- to be -convinced that the will of the historic hero does not control the -actions of the mass but is itself continually controlled. It may -seem to be a matter of indifference whether we understand the -meaning of historical events this way or that; yet there is the same -difference between a man who says that the people of the West moved on -the East because Napoleon wished it and a man who says that this -happened because it had to happen, as there is between those who -declared that the earth was stationary and that the planets moved -round it and those who admitted that they did not know what upheld the -earth, but knew there were laws directing its movement and that of the -other planets. There is, and can be, no cause of an historical event -except the one cause of all causes. But there are laws directing -events, and some of these laws are known to us while we are -conscious of others we cannot comprehend. The discovery of these -laws is only possible when possible when we have quite abandoned the -attempt to find the cause in the will of some one man, just as the -discovery of the laws of the motion of the planets was possible only -when men abandoned the conception of the fixity of the earth. - -The historians consider that, next to the battle of Borodino and the -occupation of Moscow by the enemy and its destruction by fire, the -most important episode of the war of 1812 was the movement of the -Russian army from the Ryazana to the Kaluga road and to the Tarutino -camp- the so-called flank march across the Krasnaya Pakhra River. They -ascribe the glory of that achievement of genius to different men and -dispute as to whom the honor is due. Even foreign historians, -including the French, acknowledge the genius of the Russian commanders -when they speak of that flank march. But it is hard to understand -why military writers, and following them others, consider this flank -march to be the profound conception of some one man who saved Russia -and destroyed Napoleon. In the first place it is hard to understand -where the profundity and genius of this movement lay, for not much -mental effort was needed to see that the best position for an army -when it is not being attacked is where there are most provisions; -and even a dull boy of thirteen could have guessed that the best -position for an army after its retreat from Moscow in 1812 was on -the Kaluga road. So it is impossible to understand by what reasoning -the historians reach the conclusion that this maneuver was a -profound one. And it is even more difficult to understand just why -they think that this maneuver was calculated to save Russia and -destroy the French; for this flank march, had it been preceded, -accompanied, or followed by other circumstances, might have proved -ruinous to the Russians and salutary for the French. If the position -of the Russian army really began to improve from the time of that -march, it does not at all follow that the march was the cause of it. - -That flank march might not only have failed to give any advantage to -the Russian army, but might in other circumstances have led to its -destruction. What would have happened had Moscow not burned down? If -Murat had not lost sight of the Russians? If Napoleon had not remained -inactive? If the Russian army at Krasnaya Pakhra had given battle as -Bennigsen and Barclay advised? What would have happened had the French -attacked the Russians while they were marching beyond the Pakhra? What -would have happened if on approaching Tarutino, Napoleon had -attacked the Russians with but a tenth of the energy he had shown when -he attacked them at Smolensk? What would have happened had the -French moved on Petersburg?... In any of these eventualities the flank -march that brought salvation might have proved disastrous. - -The third and most incomprehensible thing is that people studying -history deliberately avoid seeing that this flank march cannot be -attributed to any one man, that no one ever foresaw it, and that in -reality, like the retreat from Fili, it did not suggest itself to -anyone in its entirety, but resulted- moment by moment, step by -step, event by event- from an endless number of most diverse -circumstances and was only seen in its entirety when it had been -accomplished and belonged to the past. - -At the council at Fili the prevailing thought in the minds of the -Russian commanders was the one naturally suggesting itself, namely, -a direct retreat by the Nizhni road. In proof of this there is the -fact that the majority of the council voted for such a retreat, and -above all there is the well-known conversation after the council, -between the commander in chief and Lanskoy, who was in charge of the -commissariat department. Lanskoy informed the commander in chief -that the army supplies were for the most part stored along the Oka -in the Tula and Ryazan provinces, and that if they retreated on Nizhni -the army would be separated from its supplies by the broad river -Oka, which cannot be crossed early in winter. This was the first -indication of the necessity of deviating from what had previously -seemed the most natural course- a direct retreat on Nizhni-Novgorod. -The army turned more to the south, along the Ryazan road and nearer to -its supplies. Subsequently the in activity of the French (who even -lost sight of the Russian army), concern for the safety of the arsenal -at Tula, and especially the advantages of drawing nearer to its -supplies caused the army to turn still further south to the Tula road. -Having crossed over, by a forced march, to the Tula road beyond the -Pakhra, the Russian commanders intended to remain at Podolsk and had -no thought of the Tarutino position; but innumerable circumstances and -the reappearance of French troops who had for a time lost touch with -the Russians, and projects of giving battle, and above all the -abundance of provisions in Kaluga province, obliged our army to turn -still more to the south and to cross from the Tula to the Kaluga -road and go to Tarutino, which was between the roads along which those -supplies lay. Just as it is impossible to say when it was decided to -abandon Moscow, so it is impossible to say precisely when, or by whom, -it was decided to move to Tarutino. Only when the army had got -there, as the result of innumerable and varying forces, did people -begin to assure themselves that they had desired this movement and -long ago foreseen its result. - -CHAPTER II - -The famous flank movement merely consisted in this: after the -advance of the French had ceased, the Russian army, which had been -continually retreating straight back from the invaders, deviated -from that direct course and, not finding itself pursued, was naturally -drawn toward the district where supplies were abundant. - -If instead of imagining to ourselves commanders of genius leading -the Russian army, we picture that army without any leaders, it could -not have done anything but make a return movement toward Moscow, -describing an arc in the direction where most provisions were to be -found and where the country was richest. - -That movement from the Nizhni to the Ryazan, Tula, and Kaluga -roads was so natural that even the Russian marauders moved in that -direction, and demands were sent from Petersburg for Kutuzov to take -his army that way. At Tarutino Kutuzov received what was almost a -reprimand from the Emperor for having moved his army along the -Ryazan road, and the Emperor's letter indicated to him the very -position he had already occupied near Kaluga. - -Having rolled like a ball in the direction of the impetus given by -the whole campaign and by the battle of Borodino, the Russian army- -when the strength of that impetus was exhausted and no fresh push -was received- assumed the position natural to it. - -Kutuzov's merit lay, not in any strategic maneuver of genius, as -it is called, but in the fact that he alone understood the -significance of what had happened. He alone then understood the -meaning of the French army's inactivity, he alone continued to -assert that the battle of Borodino had been a victory, he alone- who -as commander in chief might have been expected to be eager to -attack- employed his whole strength to restrain the Russian army -from useless engagements. - -The beast wounded at Borodino was lying where the fleeing hunter had -left him; but whether he was still alive, whether he was strong and -merely lying low, the hunter did not know. Suddenly the beast was -heard to moan. - -The moan of that wounded beast (the French army) which betrayed -its calamitous condition was the sending of Lauriston to Kutuzov's -camp with overtures for peace. - -Napoleon, with his usual assurance that whatever entered his head -was right, wrote to Kutuzov the first words that occurred to him, -though they were meaningless. - -MONSIEUR LE PRINCE KOUTOUZOV: I am sending one of my -adjutants-general to discuss several interesting questions with you. I -beg your Highness to credit what he says to you, especially when he -expresses the sentiment of esteem and special regard I have long -entertained for your person. This letter having no other object, I -pray God, monsieur le Prince Koutouzov, to keep you in His holy and -gracious protection! - -NAPOLEON - -MOSCOW, OCTOBER 30, 1812 - -Kutuzov replied: "I should be cursed by posterity were I looked on -as the initiator of a settlement of any sort. Such is the present -spirit of my nation." But he continued to exert all his powers to -restrain his troops from attacking. - -During the month that the French troops were pillaging in Moscow and -the Russian troops were quietly encamped at Tarutino, a change had -taken place in the relative strength of the two armies- both in spirit -and in number- as a result of which the superiority had passed to -the Russian side. Though the condition and numbers of the French -army were unknown to the Russians, as soon as that change occurred the -need of attacking at once showed itself by countless signs. These -signs were: Lauriston's mission; the abundance of provisions at -Tarutino; the reports coming in from all sides of the inactivity and -disorder of the French; the flow of recruits to our regiments; the -fine weather; the long rest the Russian soldiers had enjoyed, and -the impatience to do what they had been assembled for, which usually -shows itself in an army that has been resting; curiosity as to what -the French army, so long lost sight of, was doing; the boldness with -which our outposts now scouted close up to the French stationed at -Tarutino; the news of easy successes gained by peasants and -guerrilla troops over the French, the envy aroused by this; the desire -for revenge that lay in the heart of every Russian as long as the -French were in Moscow, and (above all) a dim consciousness in every -soldier's mind that the relative strength of the armies had changed -and that the advantage was now on our side. There was a substantial -change in the relative strength, and an advance had become inevitable. -And at once, as a clock begins to strike and chime as soon as the -minute hand has completed a full circle, this change was shown by an -increased activity, whirring, and chiming in the higher spheres. - -CHAPTER III - -The Russian army was commanded by Kutuzov and his staff, and also by -the Emperor from Petersburg. Before the news of the abandonment of -Moscow had been received in Petersburg, a detailed plan of the whole -campaign had been drawn up and sent to Kutuzov for his guidance. -Though this plan had been drawn up on the supposition that Moscow -was still in our hands, it was approved by the staff and accepted as a -basis for action. Kutuzov only replied that movements arranged from -a distance were always difficult to execute. So fresh instructions -were sent for the solution of difficulties that might be -encountered, as well as fresh people who were to watch Kutuzov's -actions and report upon them. - -Besides this, the whole staff of the Russian army was now -reorganized. The posts left vacant by Bagration, who had been -killed, and by Barclay, who had gone away in dudgeon, had to be -filled. Very serious consideration was given to the question whether -it would be better to put A in B's place and B in D's, or on the -contrary to put D in A's place, and so on- as if anything more than -A's or B's satisfaction depended on this. - -As a result of the hostility between Kutuzov and Bennigsen, his -Chief of Staff, the presence of confidential representatives of the -Emperor, and these transfers, a more than usually complicated play -of parties was going on among the staff of the army. A was undermining -B, D was undermining C, and so on in all possible combinations and -permutations. In all these plottings the subject of intrigue was -generally the conduct of the war, which all these men believed they -were directing; but this affair of the war went on independently of -them, as it had to go: that is, never in the way people devised, but -flowing always from the essential attitude of the masses. Only in -the highest spheres did all these schemes, crossings, and -interminglings appear to be a true reflection of what had to happen. - -Prince Michael Ilarionovich! (wrote the Emperor on the second of -October in a letter that reached Kutuzov after the battle at Tarutino) -Since September 2 Moscow has been in the hands of the enemy. Your last -reports were written on the twentieth, and during all this time not -only has no action been taken against the enemy or for the relief of -the ancient capital, but according to your last report you have even -retreated farther. Serpukhov is already occupied by an enemy -detachment and Tula with its famous arsenal so indispensable to the -army, is in danger. From General Wintzingerode's reports, I see that -an enemy corps of ten thousand men is moving on the Petersburg road. -Another corps of several thousand men is moving on Dmitrov. A third -has advanced along the Vladimir road, and a fourth, rather -considerable detachment is stationed between Ruza and Mozhaysk. -Napoleon himself was in Moscow as late as the twenty-fifth. In view of -all this information, when the enemy has scattered his forces in large -detachments, and with Napoleon and his Guards in Moscow, is it -possible that the enemy's forces confronting you are so considerable -as not to allow of your taking the offensive? On the contrary, he is -probably pursuing you with detachments, or at most with an army -corps much weaker than the army entrusted to you. It would seem -that, availing yourself of these circumstances, you might -advantageously attack a weaker one and annihilate him, or at least -oblige him to retreat, retaining in our hands an important part of the -provinces now occupied by the enemy, and thereby averting danger -from Tula and other towns in the interior. You will be responsible -if the enemy is able to direct a force of any size against -Petersburg to threaten this capital in which it has not been -possible to retain many troops; for with the army entrusted to you, -and acting with resolution and energy, you have ample means to avert -this fresh calamity. Remember that you have still to answer to our -offended country for the loss of Moscow. You have experienced my -readiness to reward you. That readiness will not weaken in me, but I -and Russia have a right to expect from you all the zeal, firmness, and -success which your intellect, military talent, and the courage of -the troops you command justify us in expecting. - -But by the time this letter, which proved that the real relation -of the forces had already made itself felt in Petersburg, was -dispatched, Kutuzov had found himself unable any longer to restrain -the army he commanded from attacking and a battle had taken place. - -On the second of October a Cossack, Shapovalov, who was out -scouting, killed one hare and wounded another. Following the wounded -hare he made his way far into the forest and came upon the left -flank of Murat's army, encamped there without any precautions. The -Cossack laughingly told his comrades how he had almost fallen into the -hands of the French. A cornet, hearing the story, informed his -commander. - -The Cossack was sent for and questioned. The Cossack officers wished -to take advantage of this chance to capture some horses, but one of -the superior officers, who was acquainted with the higher authorities, -reported the incident to a general on the staff. The state of -things on the staff had of late been exceedingly strained. Ermolov had -been to see Bennigsen a few days previously and had entreated him to -use his influence with the commander in chief to induce him to take -the offensive. - -"If I did not know you I should think you did not want what you -are asking for. I need only advise anything and his Highness is sure -to do the opposite," replied Bennigsen. - -The Cossack's report, confirmed by horse patrols who were sent -out, was the final proof that events had matured. The tightly coiled -spring was released, the clock began to whirr and the chimes to -play. Despite all his supposed power, his intellect, his experience, -and his knowledge of men, Kutuzov- having taken into consideration the -Cossack's report, a note from Bennigsen who sent personal reports to -the Emperor, the wishes he supposed the Emperor to hold, and the -fact that all the generals expressed the same wish- could no longer -check the inevitable movement, and gave the order to do what he -regarded as useless and harmful- gave his approval, that is, to the -accomplished fact. - -CHAPTER IV - -Bennigsen's note and the Cossack's information that the left flank -of the French was unguarded were merely final indications that it -was necessary to order an attack, and it was fixed for the fifth of -October. - -On the morning of the fourth of October Kutuzov signed the -dispositions. Toll read them to Ermolov, asking him to attend to the -further arrangements. - -"All right- all right. I haven't time just now," replied Ermolov, -and left the hut. - -The dispositions drawn up by Toll were very good. As in the -Austerlitz dispositions, it was written- though not in German this -time: - -"The First Column will march here and here," "the Second Column will -march there and there," and so on; and on paper, all these columns -arrived at their places at the appointed time and destroyed the enemy. -Everything had been admirably thought out as is usual in dispositions, -and as is always the case, not a single column reached its place at -the appointed time. - -When the necessary number of copies of the dispositions had been -prepared, an officer was summoned and sent to deliver them to -Ermolov to deal with. A young officer of the Horse Guards, Kutuzov's -orderly, pleased at the importance of the mission entrusted to him, -went to Ermolov's quarters. - -"Gone away," said Ermolov's orderly. - -The officer of the Horse Guards went to a general with whom -Ermolov was often to be found. - -"No, and the general's out too." - -The officer, mounting his horse, rode off to someone else. - -"No, he's gone out." - -"If only they don't make me responsible for this delay! What a -nuisance it is!" thought the officer, and he rode round the whole -camp. One man said he had seen Ermolov ride past with some other -generals, others said he must have returned home. The officer searched -till six o'clock in the evening without even stopping to eat. -Ermolov was nowhere to be found and no one knew where he was. The -officer snatched a little food at a comrade's, and rode again to the -vanguard to find Miloradovich. Miloradovich too was away, but here -he was told that he had gone to a ball at General Kikin's and that -Ermolov was probably there too. - -"But where is it?" - -"Why, there, over at Echkino," said a Cossack officer, pointing to a -country house in the far distance. - -"What, outside our line?" - -"They've put two regiments as outposts, and they're having such a -spree there, it's awful! Two bands and three sets of singers!" - -The officer rode out beyond our lines to Echkino. While still at a -distance he heard as he rode the merry sounds of a soldier's dance -song proceeding from the house. - -"In the meadows... in the meadows!" he heard, accompanied by -whistling and the sound of a torban, drowned every now and then by -shouts. These sounds made his spirits rise, but at the same time he -was afraid that he would be blamed for not having executed sooner -the important order entrusted to him. It was already past eight -o'clock. He dismounted and went up into the porch of a large country -house which had remained intact between the Russian and French forces. -In the refreshment room and the hall, footmen were bustling about with -wine and viands. Groups of singers stood outside the windows. The -officer was admitted and immediately saw all the chief generals of the -army together, and among them Ermolov's big imposing figure. They -all had their coats unbuttoned and were standing in a semicircle -with flushed and animated faces, laughing loudly. In the middle of the -room a short handsome general with a red face was dancing the trepak -with much spirit and agility. - -"Ha, ha, ha! Bravo, Nicholas Ivanych! Ha, ha, ha!" - -The officer felt that by arriving with important orders at such a -moment he was doubly to blame, and he would have preferred to wait; -but one of the generals espied him and, hearing what he had come -about, informed Ermolov. - -Ermolov came forward with a frown on his face and, hearing what -the officer had to say, took the papers from him without a word. - -"You think he went off just by chance?" said a comrade, who was on -the staff that evening, to the officer of the Horse Guards, -referring to Ermolov. "It was a trick. It was done on purpose to get -Konovnitsyn into trouble. You'll see what a mess there'll be -tomorrow." - -CHAPTER V - -Next day the decrepit Kutuzov, having given orders to be called -early, said his prayers, dressed, and, with an unpleasant -consciousness of having to direct a battle he did not approve of, -got into his caleche and drove from Letashovka (a village three and -a half miles from Tarutino) to the place where the attacking columns -were to meet. He sat in the caleche, dozing and waking up by turns, -and listening for any sound of firing on the right as an indication -that the action had begun. But all was still quiet. A damp dull autumn -morning was just dawning. On approaching Tarutino Kutuzov noticed -cavalrymen leading their horses to water across the road along which -he was driving. Kutuzov looked at them searchingly, stopped his -carriage, and inquired what regiment they belonged to. They belonged -to a column that should have been far in front and in ambush long -before then. "It may be a mistake," thought the old commander in -chief. But a little further on he saw infantry regiments with their -arms piled and the soldiers, only partly dressed, eating their rye -porridge and carrying fuel. He sent for an officer. The officer -reported that no order to advance had been received. - -"How! Not rec..." Kutuzov began, but checked himself immediately and -sent for a senior officer. Getting out of his caleche, he waited -with drooping head and breathing heavily, pacing silently up and down. -When Eykhen, the officer of the general staff whom he had summoned, -appeared, Kutuzov went purple in the face, not because that officer -was to blame for the mistake, but because he was an object of -sufficient importance for him to vent his wrath on. Trembling and -panting the old man fell into that state of fury in which he sometimes -used to roll on the ground, and he fell upon Eykhen, threatening him -with his hands, shouting and loading him with gross abuse. Another -man, Captain Brozin, who happened to turn up and who was not at all to -blame, suffered the same fate. - -"What sort of another blackguard are you? I'll have you shot! -Scoundrels!" yelled Kutuzov in a hoarse voice, waving his arms and -reeling. - -He was suffering physically. He, the commander in chief, a Serene -Highness who everybody said possessed powers such as no man had ever -had in Russia, to be placed in this position- made the laughingstock -of the whole army! "I needn't have been in such a hurry to pray -about today, or have kept awake thinking everything over all night," -thought he to himself. "When I was a chit of an officer no one would -have dared to mock me so... and now!" He was in a state of physical -suffering as if from corporal punishment, and could not avoid -expressing it by cries of anger and distress. But his strength soon -began to fail him, and looking about him, conscious of having said -much that was amiss, he again got into his caleche and drove back in -silence. - -His wrath, once expended, did not return, and blinking feebly he -listened to excuses and self-justifications (Ermolov did not come to -see him till the next day) and to the insistence of Bennigsen, -Konovnitsyn, and Toll that the movement that had miscarried should -be executed next day. And once more Kutuzov had to consent. - -CHAPTER VI - -Next day the troops assembled in their appointed places in the -evening and advanced during the night. It was an autumn night with -dark purple clouds, but no rain. The ground was damp but not muddy, -and the troops advanced noiselessly, only occasionally a jingling of -the artillery could be faintly heard. The men were forbidden to talk -out loud, to smoke their pipes, or to strike a light, and they tried -to prevent their horses neighing. The secrecy of the undertaking -heightened its charm and they marched gaily. Some columns, -supposing. they had reached their destination, halted, piled arms, and -settled down on the cold ground, but the majority marched all night -and arrived at places where they evidently should not have been. - -Only Count Orlov-Denisov with his Cossacks (the least important -detachment of all) got to his appointed place at the right time. -This detachment halted at the outskirts of a forest, on the path -leading from the village of Stromilova to Dmitrovsk. - -Toward dawn, Count Orlov-Denisov, who had dozed off, was awakened by -a deserter from the French army being brought to him. This was a -Polish sergeant of Poniatowski's corps, who explained in Polish that -he had come over because he had been slighted in the service: that -he ought long ago to have been made an officer, that he was braver -than any of them, and so he had left them and wished to pay them -out. He said that Murat was spending the night less than a mile from -where they were, and that if they would let him have a convoy of a -hundred men he would capture him alive. Count Orlov-Denisov -consulted his fellow officers. - -The offer was too tempting to be refused. Everyone volunteered to go -and everybody advised making the attempt. After much disputing and -arguing, Major-General Grekov with two Cossack regiments decided to go -with the Polish sergeant. - -"Now, remember," said Count Orlov-Denisov to the sergeant at -parting, "if you have been lying I'll have you hanged like a dog; -but if it's true you shall have a hundred gold pieces!" - -Without replying, the sergeant, with a resolute air, mounted and -rode away with Grekov whose men had quickly assembled. They -disappeared into the forest, and Count Orlov-Denisov, having seen -Grekov off, returned, shivering from the freshness of the early dawn -and excited by what he had undertaken on his own responsibility, and -began looking at the enemy camp, now just visible in the deceptive -light of dawn and the dying campfires. Our columns ought to have begun -to appear on an open declivity to his right. He looked in that -direction, but though the columns would have been visible quite far -off, they were not to be seen. It seemed to the count that things were -beginning to stir in the French camp, and his keen-sighted adjutant -confirmed this. - -"Oh, it is really too late," said Count Orlov, looking at the camp. - -As often happens when someone we have trusted is no longer before -our eyes, it suddenly seemed quite clear and obvious to him that the -sergeant was an impostor, that he had lied, and that the whole Russian -attack would be ruined by the absence of those two regiments, which he -would lead away heaven only knew where. How could one capture a -commander in chief from among such a mass of troops! - -"I am sure that rascal was lying," said the count. - -"They can still be called back," said one of his suite, who like -Count Orlov felt distrustful of the adventure when he looked at the -enemy's camp. - -"Eh? Really... what do you think? Should we let them go on or not?" - -"Will you have them fetched back?" - -"Fetch them back, fetch them back!" said Count Orlov with sudden -determination, looking at his watch. "It will be too late. It is quite -light." - -And the adjutant galloped through the forest after Grekov. When -Grekov returned, Count Orlov-Denisov, excited both by the abandoned -attempt and by vainly awaiting the infantry columns that still did not -appear, as well as by the proximity of the enemy, resolved to advance. -All his men felt the same excitement. - -"Mount!" he commanded in a whisper. The men took their places and -crossed themselves.... "Forward, with God's aid!" - -"Hurrah-ah-ah!" reverberated in the forest, and the Cossack -companies, trailing their lances and advancing one after another as if -poured out of a sack, dashed gaily across the brook toward the camp. - -One desperate, frightened yell from the first French soldier who saw -the Cossacks, and all who were in the camp, undressed and only just -waking up, ran off in all directions, abandoning cannons, muskets, and -horses. - -Had the Cossacks pursued the French, without heeding what was behind -and around them, they would have captured Murat and everything -there. That was what the officers desired. But it was impossible to -make the Cossacks budge when once they had got booty and prisoners. -None of them listened to orders. Fifteen hundred prisoners and -thirty-eight guns were taken on the spot, besides standards and -(what seemed most important to the Cossacks) horses, saddles, -horsecloths, and the like. All this had to be dealt with, the -prisoners and guns secured, the booty divided- not without some -shouting and even a little themselves- and it was on this that the -Cossacks all busied themselves. - -The French, not being farther pursued, began to recover -themselves: they formed into detachments and began firing. -Orlov-Denisov, still waiting for the other columns to arrive, advanced -no further. - -Meantime, according to the dispositions which said that "the First -Column will march" and so on, the infantry of the belated columns, -commanded by Bennigsen and directed by Toll, had started in due -order and, as always happens, had got somewhere, but not to their -appointed places. As always happens the men, starting cheerfully, -began to halt; murmurs were heard, there was a sense of confusion, and -finally a backward movement. Adjutants and generals galloped about, -shouted, grew angry, quarreled, said they had come quite wrong and -were late, gave vent to a little abuse, and at last gave it all up and -went forward, simply to get somewhere. "We shall get somewhere or -other!" And they did indeed get somewhere, though not to their right -places; a few eventually even got to their right place, but too late -to be of any use and only in time to be fired at. Toll, who in this -battle played the part of Weyrother at Austerlitz, galloped -assiduously from place to place, finding everything upside down -everywhere. Thus he stumbled on Bagovut's corps in a wood when it -was already broad daylight, though the corps should long before have -joined Orlov-Denisov. Excited and vexed by the failure and supposing -that someone must be responsible for it, Toll galloped up to the -commander of the corps and began upbraiding him severely, saying -that he ought to be shot. General Bagovut, a fighting old soldier of -placid temperament, being also upset by all the delay, confusion, -and cross-purposes, fell into a rage to everybody's surprise and quite -contrary to his usual character and said disagreeable things to Toll. - -"I prefer not to take lessons from anyone, but I can die with my men -as well as anybody," he said, and advanced with a single division. - -Coming out onto a field under the enemy's fire, this brave general -went straight ahead, leading his men under fire, without considering -in his agitation whether going into action now, with a single -division, would be of any use or no. Danger, cannon balls, and bullets -were just what he needed in his angry mood. One of the first bullets -killed him, and other bullets killed many of his men. And his division -remained under fire for some time quite uselessly. - -CHAPTER VII - -Meanwhile another column was to have attacked the French from the -front, but Kutuzov accompanied that column. He well knew that -nothing but confusion would come of this battle undertaken against his -will, and as far as was in his power held the troops back. He did -not advance. - -He rode silently on his small gray horse, indolently answering -suggestions that they should attack. - -"The word attack is always on your tongue, but you don't see that we -are unable to execute complicated maneuvers," said he to -Miloradovich who asked permission to advance. - -"We couldn't take Murat prisoner this morning or get to the place in -time, and nothing can be done now!" he replied to someone else. - -When Kutuzov was informed that at the French rear- where according -to the reports of the Cossacks there had previously been nobody- there -were now two battalions of Poles, he gave a sidelong glance at Ermolov -who was behind him and to whom he had not spoken since the previous -day. - -"You see! They are asking to attack and making plans of all kinds, -but as soon as one gets to business nothing is ready, and the enemy, -forewarned, takes measures accordingly." - -Ermolov screwed up his eyes and smiled faintly on hearing these -words. He understood that for him the storm had blown over, and that -Kutuzov would content himself with that hint. - -"He's having a little fun at my expense," said Ermolov softly, -nudging with his knee Raevski who was at his side. - -Soon after this, Ermolov moved up to Kutuzov and respectfully -remarked: - -"It is not too late yet, your Highness- the enemy has not gone away- -if you were to order an attack! If not, the Guards will not so much as -see a little smoke." - -Kutuzov did not reply, but when they reported to him that Murat's -troops were in retreat he ordered an advance, though at every -hundred paces he halted for three quarters of an hour. - -The whole battle consisted in what Orlov-Denisov's Cossacks had -done: the rest of the army merely lost some hundreds of men uselessly. - -In consequence of this battle Kutuzov received a diamond decoration, -and Bennigsen some diamonds and a hundred thousand rubles, others also -received pleasant recognitions corresponding to their various -grades, and following the battle fresh changes were made in the staff. - -"That's how everything is done with us, all topsy-turvy!" said the -Russian officers and generals after the Tarutino battle, letting it be -understood that some fool there is doing things all wrong but that -we ourselves should not have done so, just as people speak today. -But people who talk like that either do not know what they are talking -about or deliberately deceive themselves. No battle- Tarutino, -Borodino, or Austerlitz- takes place as those who planned it -anticipated. That is an essential condition. - -A countless number of free forces (for nowhere is man freer than -during a battle, where it is a question of life and death) influence -the course taken by the fight, and that course never can be known in -advance and never coincides with the direction of any one force. - -If many simultaneously and variously directed forces act on a -given body, the direction of its motion cannot coincide with any one -of those forces, but will always be a mean- what in mechanics is -represented by the diagonal of a parallelogram of forces. - -If in the descriptions given by historians, especially French -ones, we find their wars and battles carried out in accordance with -previously formed plans, the only conclusion to be drawn is that those -descriptions are false. - -The battle of Tarutino obviously did not attain the aim Toll had -in view- to lead the troops into action in the order prescribed by the -dispositions; nor that which Count Orlov-Denisov may have had in view- -to take Murat prisoner; nor the result of immediately destroying the -whole corps, which Bennigsen and others may have had in view; nor -the aim of the officer who wished to go into action to distinguish -himself; nor that of the Cossack who wanted more booty than he got, -and so on. But if the aim of the battle was what actually resulted and -what all the Russians of that day desired- to drive the French out -of Russia and destroy their army- it is quite clear that the battle of -Tarutino, just because of its incongruities, was exactly what was -wanted at that stage of the campaign. It would be difficult and even -impossible to imagine any result more opportune than the actual -outcome of this battle. With a minimum of effort and insignificant -losses, despite the greatest confusion, the most important results -of the whole campaign were attained: the transition from retreat to -advance, an exposure of the weakness of the French, and the -administration of that shock which Napoleon's army had only awaited to -begin its flight. - -CHAPTER VIII - -Napoleon enters Moscow after the brilliant victory de la Moskowa; -there can be no doubt about the victory for the battlefield remains in -the hands of the French. The Russians retreat and abandon their -ancient capital. Moscow, abounding in provisions, arms, munitions, and -incalculable wealth, is in Napoleon's hands. The Russian army, only -half the strength of the French, does not make a single attempt to -attack for a whole month. Napoleon's position is most brilliant. He -can either fall on the Russian army with double its strength and -destroy it; negotiate an advantageous peace, or in case of a refusal -make a menacing move on Petersburg, or even, in the case of a reverse, -return to Smolensk or Vilna; or remain in Moscow; in short, no special -genius would seem to be required to retain the brilliant position -the French held at that time. For that, only very simple and easy -steps were necessary: not to allow the troops to loot, to prepare -winter clothing- of which there was sufficient in Moscow for the whole -army- and methodically to collect the provisions, of which -(according to the French historians) there were enough in Moscow to -supply the whole army for six months. Yet Napoleon, that greatest of -all geniuses, who the historians declare had control of the army, took -none of these steps. - -He not merely did nothing of the kind, but on the contrary he used -his power to select the most foolish and ruinous of all the courses -open to him. Of all that Napoleon might have done: wintering in -Moscow, advancing on Petersburg or on Nizhni-Novgorod, or retiring -by a more northerly or more southerly route (say by the road Kutuzov -afterwards took), nothing more stupid or disastrous can be imagined -than what he actually did. He remained in Moscow till October, letting -the troops plunder the city; then, hesitating whether to leave a -garrison behind him, he quitted Moscow, approached Kutuzov without -joining battle, turned to the right and reached Malo-Yaroslavets, -again without attempting to break through and take the road Kutuzov -took, but retiring instead to Mozhaysk along the devastated Smolensk -road. Nothing more stupid than that could have been devised, or more -disastrous for the army, as the sequel showed. Had Napoleon's aim been -to destroy his army, the most skillful strategist could hardly have -devised any series of actions that would so completely have -accomplished that purpose, independently of anything the Russian -army might do. - -Napoleon, the man of genius, did this! But to say that he -destroyed his army because he wished to, or because he was very -stupid, would be as unjust as to say that he had brought his troops to -Moscow because he wished to and because he was very clever and a -genius. - -In both cases his personal activity, having no more force than the -personal activity of any soldier, merely coincided with the laws -that guided the event. - -The historians quite falsely represent Napoleon's faculties as -having weakened in Moscow, and do so only because the results did -not justify his actions. He employed all his ability and strength to -do the best he could for himself and his army, as he had done -previously and as he did subsequently in 1813. His activity at that -time was no less astounding than it was in Egypt, in Italy, in -Austria, and in Prussia. We do not know for certain in how far his -genius was genuine in Egypt- where forty centuries looked down upon -his grandeur- for his great exploits there are all told us by -Frenchmen. We cannot accurately estimate his genius in Austria or -Prussia, for we have to draw our information from French or German -sources, and the incomprehensible surrender of whole corps without -fighting and of fortresses without a siege must incline Germans to -recognize his genius as the only explanation of the war carried on -in Germany. But we, thank God, have no need to recognize his genius in -order to hide our shame. We have paid for the right to look at the -matter plainly and simply, and we will not abandon that right. - -His activity in Moscow was as amazing and as full of genius as -elsewhere. Order after order order and plan after plan were issued -by him from the time he entered Moscow till the time he left it. The -absence of citizens and of a deputation, and even the burning of -Moscow, did not disconcert him. He did not lose sight either of the -welfare of his army or of the doings of the enemy, or of the welfare -of the people of Russia, or of the direction of affairs in Paris, or -of diplomatic considerations concerning the terms of the anticipated -peace. - -CHAPTER IX - -With regard to military matters, Napoleon immediately on his entry -into Moscow gave General Sabastiani strict orders to observe the -movements of the Russian army, sent army corps out along the different -roads, and charged Murat to find Kutuzov. Then he gave careful -directions about the fortification of the Kremlin, and drew up a -brilliant plan for a future campaign over the whole map of Russia. - -With regard to diplomatic questions, Napoleon summoned Captain -Yakovlev, who had been robbed and was in rags and did not know how -to get out of Moscow, minutely explained to him his whole policy and -his magnanimity, and having written a letter to the Emperor -Alexander in which he considered it his duty to inform his Friend -and Brother that Rostopchin had managed affairs badly in Moscow, he -dispatched Yakovlev to Petersburg. - -Having similarly explained his views and his magnanimity to -Tutolmin, he dispatched that old man also to Petersburg to negotiate. - -With regard to legal matters, immediately after the fires he gave -orders to find and execute the incendiaries. And the scoundrel -Rostopchin was punished by an order to burn down his houses. - -With regard to administrative matters, Moscow was granted a -constitution. A municipality was established and the following -announcement issued: - -INHABITANTS OF MOSCOW! - -Your misfortunes are cruel, but His Majesty the Emperor and King -desires to arrest their course. Terrible examples have taught you -how he punishes disobedience and crime. Strict measures have been -taken to put an end to disorder and to re-establish public security. A -paternal administration, chosen from among yourselves, will form -your municipality or city government. It will take care of you, of -your needs, and of your welfare. Its members will be distinguished -by a red ribbon worn across the shoulder, and the mayor of the city -will wear a white belt as well. But when not on duty they will only -wear a red ribbon round the left arm. - -The city police is established on its former footing, and better -order already prevails in consequence of its activity. The -government has appointed two commissaries general, or chiefs of -police, and twenty commissaries or captains of wards have been -appointed to the different wards of the city. You will recognize -them by the white ribbon they will wear on the left arm. Several -churches of different denominations are open, and divine service is -performed in them unhindered. Your fellow citizens are returning every -day to their homes. and orders have been given that they should find -in them the help and protection due to their misfortunes. These are -the measures the government has adopted to re-establish order and -relieve youp condition. But to achieve this aim it is necessary that -you should add your efforts and should, if possible, forget the -misfortunes you have suffered, should entertain the hope of a less -cruel fate, should be certain that inevitable and ignominious death -awaits those who make any attempt on your persons or on what remains -of your property, and finally that you should not doubt that these -will be safeguarded, since such is the will of the greatest and most -just of monarchs. Soldiers and citizens, of whatever nation you may -be, re-establish public confidence, the source of the welfare of a -state, live like brothers, render mutual aid and protection one to -another, unite to defeat the intentions of the evil-minded, obey the -military and civil authorities, and your tears will soon cease to -flow! - -With regard to supplies for the army, Napoleon decreed that all -the troops in turn should enter Moscow a la maraude~{ As looters. }~ to obtain -provisions for themselves, so that the army might have its future -provided for. - -With regard to religion, Napoleon ordered the priests to be -brought back and services to be again performed in the churches. - -With regard to commerce and to provisioning the army, the -following was placarded everywhere: - -PROCLAMATION! - -You, peaceful inhabitants of Moscow, artisans and workmen whom -misfortune has driven from the city, and you scattered tillers of -the soil, still kept out in the fields by groundless fear, listen! -Tranquillity is returning to this capital and order is being -restored in it. Your fellow countrymen are emerging boldly from -their hiding places on finding that they are respected. Any violence -to them or to their property is promptly punished. His Majesty the -Emperor and King protects them, and considers no one among you his -enemy except those who disobey his orders. He desires to end your -misfortunes and restore you to your homes and families. Respond, -therefore, to his benevolent intentions and come to us without fear. -Inhabitants, return with confidence to your abodes! You will soon find -means of satisfying your needs. Craftsmen and industrious artisans, -return to your work, your houses, your shops, where the protection -of guards awaits you! You shall receive proper pay for your work. -And lastly you too, peasants, come from the forests where you are -hiding in terror, return to your huts without fear, in full -assurance that you will find protection! Markets are established in -the city where peasants can bring their surplus supplies and the -products of the soil. The government has taken the following steps -to ensure freedom of sale for them: (1) From today, peasants, -husbandmen, and those living in the neighborhood of Moscow may without -any danger bring their supplies of all kinds to two appointed markets, -of which one is on the Mokhovaya Street and the other at the Provision -Market. (2) Such supplies will be bought from them at such prices as -seller and buyer may agree on, and if a seller is unable to obtain a -fair price he will be free to take his goods back to his village and -no one may hinder him under any pretense. (3) Sunday and Wednesday -of each week are appointed as the chief market days and to that end -a sufficient number of troops will be stationed along the highroads on -Tuesdays and Saturdays at such distances from the town as to protect -the carts. (4) Similar measures will be taken that peasants with their -carts and horses may meet with no hindrance on their return journey. -(5) Steps will immediately be taken to re-establish ordinary trading. - -Inhabitants of the city and villages, and you, workingmen and -artisans, to whatever nation you belong, you are called on to carry -out the paternal intentions of His Majesty the Emperor and King and to -co-operate with him for the public welfare! Lay your respect and -confidence at his feet and do not delay to unite with us! - -With the object of raising the spirits of the troops and of the -people, reviews were constantly held and rewards distributed. The -Emperor rode through the streets to comfort the inhabitants, and, -despite his preoccupation with state affairs, himself visited the -theaters that were established by his order. - -In regard to philanthropy, the greatest virtue of crowned heads, -Napoleon also did all in his power. He caused the words Maison de ma -Mere to be inscribed on the charitable institutions, thereby combining -tender filial affection with the majestic benevolence of a monarch. He -visited the Foundling Hospital and, allowing the orphans saved by -him to kiss his white hands, graciously conversed with Tutolmin. Then, -as Thiers eloquently recounts, he ordered his soldiers to be paid in -forged Russian money which he had prepared: "Raising the use of -these means by an act worthy of himself and of the French army, he let -relief be distributed to those who had been burned out. But as food -was too precious to be given to foreigners, who were for the most part -enemies, Napoleon preferred to supply them with money with which to -purchase food from outside, and had paper rubles distributed to them." - -With reference to army discipline, orders were continually being -issued to inflict severe punishment for the nonperformance of military -duties and to suppress robbery. - -CHAPTER X - -But strange to say, all these measures, efforts, and plans- which -were not at all worse than others issued in similar circumstances- did -not affect the essence of the matter but, like the hands of a clock -detached from the mechanism, swung about in an arbitrary and aimless -way without engaging the cogwheels. - -With reference to the military side- the plan of campaign- that work -of genius of which Thiers remarks that, "His genius never devised -anything more profound, more skillful, or more admirable," and -enters into a polemic with M. Fain to prove that this work of genius -must be referred not to the fourth but to the fifteenth of October- -that plan never was or could be executed, for it was quite out of -touch with the facts of the case. The fortifying of the Kremlin, for -which la Mosquee (as Napoleon termed the church of Basil the -Beatified) was to have been razed to the ground, proved quite useless. -The mining of the Kremlin only helped toward fulfilling Napoleon's -wish that it should be blown up when he left Moscow- as a child -wants the floor on which he has hurt himself to be beaten. The pursuit -of the Russian army, about which Napoleon was so concerned, produced -an unheard-of result. The French generals lost touch with the -Russian army of sixty thousand men, and according to Thiers it was -only eventually found, like a lost pin, by the skill- and apparently -the genius- of Murat. - -With reference to diplomacy, all Napoleon's arguments as to his -magnanimity and justice, both to Tutolmin and to Yakovlev (whose chief -concern was to obtain a greatcoat and a conveyance), proved useless; -Alexander did not receive these envoys and did not reply to their -embassage. - -With regard to legal matters, after the execution of the supposed -incendiaries the rest of Moscow burned down. - -With regard to administrative matters, the establishment of a -municipality did not stop the robberies and was only of use to certain -people who formed part of that municipality and under pretext of -preserving order looted Moscow or saved their own property from -being looted. - -With regard to religion, as to which in Egypt matters had so -easily been settled by Napoleon's visit to a mosque, no results were -achieved. Two or three priests who were found in Moscow did try to -carry out Napoleon's wish, but one of them was slapped in the face -by a French soldier while conducting service, and a French official -reported of another that: "The priest whom I found and invited to -say Mass cleaned and locked up the church. That night the doors were -again broken open, the padlocks smashed, the books mutilated, and -other disorders perpetrated." - -With reference to commerce, the proclamation to industrious -workmen and to peasants evoked no response. There were no -industrious workmen, and the peasants caught the commissaries who -ventured too far out of town with the proclamation and killed them. - -As to the theaters for the entertainment of the people and the -troops, these did not meet with success either. The theaters set up in -the Kremlin and in Posnyakov's house were closed again at once because -the actors and actresses were robbed. - -Even philanthropy did not have the desired effect. The genuine as -well as the false paper money which flooded Moscow lost its value. The -French, collecting booty, cared only for gold. Not only was the -paper money valueless which Napoleon so graciously distributed to -the unfortunate, but even silver lost its value in relation to gold. - -But the most amazing example of the ineffectiveness of the orders -given by the authorities at that time was Napoleon's attempt to stop -the looting and re-establish discipline. - -This is what the army authorities were reporting: - -"Looting continues in the city despite the decrees against it. Order -is not yet restored and not a single merchant is carrying on trade -in a lawful manner. The sutlers alone venture to trade, and they -sell stolen goods." - -"The neighborhood of my ward continues to be pillaged by soldiers of -the 3rd Corps who, not satisfied with taking from the unfortunate -inhabitants hiding in the cellars the little they have left, even have -the ferocity to wound them with their sabers, as I have repeatedly -witnessed." - -"Nothing new, except that the soldiers are robbing and pillaging- -October 9." - -"Robbery and pillaging continue. There is a band of thieves in our -district who ought to be arrested by a strong force- October 11." - -"The Emperor is extremely displeased that despite the strict -orders to stop pillage, parties of marauding Guards are continually -seen returning to the Kremlin. Among the Old Guard disorder and -pillage were renewed more violently than ever yesterday evening, -last night, and today. The Emperor sees with regret that the picked -soldiers appointed to guard his person, who should set an example of -discipline, carry disobedience to such a point that they break into -the cellars and stores containing army supplies. Others have disgraced -themselves to the extent of disobeying sentinels and officers, and -have abused and beaten them." - -"The Grand Marshal of the palace," wrote the governor, "complains -bitterly that in spite of repeated orders, the soldiers continue to -commit nuisances in all the courtyards and even under the very windows -of the Emperor." - -That army, like a herd of cattle run wild and trampling underfoot -the provender which might have saved it from starvation, disintegrated -and perished with each additional day it remained in Moscow. But it -did not go away. - -It began to run away only when suddenly seized by a panic caused -by the capture of transport trains on the Smolensk road, and by the -battle of Tarutino. The news of that battle of Tarutino, -unexpectedly received by Napoleon at a review, evoked in him a -desire to punish the Russians (Thiers says), and he issued the order -for departure which the whole army was demanding. - -Fleeing from Moscow the soldiers took with them everything they -had stolen. Napoleon, too, carried away his own personal tresor, but -on seeing the baggage trains that impeded the army, he was (Thiers -says) horror-struck. And yet with his experience of war he did not -order all the superfluous vehicles to be burned, as he had done with -those of a certain marshal when approaching Moscow. He gazed at the -caleches and carriages in which soldiers were riding and remarked that -it was a very good thing, as those vehicles could be used to carry -provisions, the sick, and the wounded. - -The plight of the whole army resembled that of a wounded animal -which feels it is perishing and does not know what it is doing. To -study the skillful tactics and aims of Napoleon and his army from -the time it entered Moscow till it was destroyed is like studying -the dying leaps and shudders of a mortally wounded animal. Very -often a wounded animal, hearing a rustle, rushes straight at the -hunter's gun, runs forward and back again, and hastens its own end. -Napoleon, under pressure from his whole army, did the same thing. -The rustle of the battle of Tarutino frightened the beast, and it -rushed forward onto the hunter's gun, reached him, turned back, and -finally- like any wild beast- ran back along the most -disadvantageous and dangerous path, where the old scent was familiar. - -During the whole of that period Napoleon, who seems to us to have -been the leader of all these movements- as the figurehead of a ship -may seem to a savage to guide the vessel- acted like a child who, -holding a couple of strings inside a carriage, thinks he is driving -it. - -CHAPTER XI - -Early in the morning of the sixth of October Pierre went out of -the shed, and on returning stopped by the door to play with a little -blue-gray dog, with a long body and short bandy legs, that jumped -about him. This little dog lived in their shed, sleeping beside -Karataev at night; it sometimes made excursions into the town but -always returned again. Probably it had never had an owner, and it -still belonged to nobody and had no name. The French called it Azor; -the soldier who told stories called it Femgalka; Karataev and others -called it Gray, or sometimes Flabby. Its lack of a master, a name, -or even of a breed or any definite color did not seem to trouble the -blue-gray dog in the least. Its furry tail stood up firm and round -as a plume, its bandy legs served it so well that it would often -gracefully lift a hind leg and run very easily and quickly on three -legs, as if disdaining to use all four. Everything pleased it. Now -it would roll on its back, yelping with delight, now bask in the sun -with a thoughtful air of importance, and now frolic about playing with -a chip of wood or a straw. - -Pierre's attire by now consisted of a dirty torn shirt (the only -remnant of his former clothing), a pair of soldier's trousers which by -Karataev's advice he tied with string round the ankles for warmth, and -a peasant coat and cap. Physically he had changed much during this -time. He no longer seemed stout, though he still had the appearance of -solidity and strength hereditary in his family. A beard and mustache -covered the lower part of his face, and a tangle of hair, infested -with lice, curled round his head like a cap. The look of his eyes -was resolute, calm, and animatedly alert, as never before. The -former slackness which had shown itself even in his eyes was now -replaced by an energetic readiness for action and resistance. His feet -were bare. - -Pierre first looked down the field across which vehicles and -horsemen were passing that morning, then into the distance across -the river, then at the dog who was pretending to be in earnest about -biting him, and then at his bare feet which he placed with pleasure in -various positions, moving his dirty thick big toes. Every time he -looked at his bare feet a smile of animated self-satisfaction -flitted across his face. The sight of them reminded him of all he -had experienced and learned during these weeks and this recollection -was pleasant to him. - -For some days the weather had been calm and clear with slight frosts -in the mornings- what is called an "old wives' summer." - -In the sunshine the air was warm, and that warmth was particularly -pleasant with the invigorating freshness of the morning frost still in -the air. - -On everything- far and near- lay the magic crystal glitter seen only -at that time autumn. The Sparrow Hills were visible in the distance, -with the village, the church, and the large white house. The bare -trees, the sand, the bricks and roofs of the houses, the green -church spire, and the corners of the white house in the distance, -all stood out in the transparent air in most delicate outline and with -unnatural clearness. Near by could be seen the familiar ruins of a -half-burned mansion occupied by the French, with lilac bushes still -showing dark green beside the fence. And even that ruined and befouled -house- which in dull weather was repulsively ugly- seemed quietly -beautiful now, in the clear, motionless brilliance. - -A French corporal, with coat unbuttoned in a homely way, a -skullcap on his head, and a short pipe in his mouth, came from -behind a corner of the shed and approached Pierre with a friendly -wink. - -"What sunshine, Monsieur Kiril!" (Their name for Pierre.) "Eh? -Just like spring!" - -And the corporal leaned against the door and offered Pierre his -pipe, though whenever he offered it Pierre always declined it. - -"To be on the march in such weather..." he began. - -Pierre inquired what was being said about leaving, and the -corporal told him that nearly all the troops were starting and there -ought to be an order about the prisoners that day. Sokolov, one of the -soldiers in the shed with Pierre, was dying, and Pierre told the -corporal that something should be done about him. The corporal replied -that Pierre need not worry about that as they had an ambulance and a -permanent hospital and arrangements would be made for the sick, and -that in general everything that could happen had been foreseen by -the authorities. - -"Besides, Monsieur Kiril, you have only to say a word to the -captain, you know. He is a man who never forgets anything. Speak to -the captain when he makes his round, he will do anything for you." - -(The captain of whom the corporal spoke often had long chats with -Pierre and showed him all sorts of favors.) - -"'You see, St. Thomas,' he said to me the other day. 'Monsieur Kiril -is a man of education, who speaks French. He is a Russian seigneur who -has had misfortunes, but he is a man. He knows what's what.... If he -wants anything and asks me, he won't get a refusal. When one has -studied, you see, one likes education and well-bred people.' It is for -your sake I mention it, Monsieur Kiril. The other day if it had not -been for you that affair would have ended ill." - -And after chatting a while longer, the corporal went away. (The -affair he had alluded to had happened a few days before- a fight -between the prisoners and the French soldiers, in which Pierre had -succeeded in pacifying his comrades.) Some of the prisoners who had -heard Pierre talking to the corporal immediately asked what the -Frenchman had said. While Pierre was repeating what he had been told -about the army leaving Moscow, a thin, sallow, tattered French soldier -came up to the door of the shed. Rapidly and timidly raising his -fingers to his forehead by way of greeting, he asked Pierre whether -the soldier Platoche to whom he had given a shirt to sew was in that -shed. - -A week before the French had had boot leather and linen issued to -them, which they had given out to the prisoners to make up into -boots and shirts for them. - -"Ready, ready, dear fellow!" said Karataev, coming out with a neatly -folded shirt. - -Karataev, on account of the warm weather and for convenience at -work, was wearing only trousers and a tattered shirt as black as soot. -His hair was bound round, workman fashion, with a wisp of lime-tree -bast, and his round face seemed rounder and pleasanter than ever. - -"A promise is own brother to performance! I said Friday and here -it is, ready," said Platon, smiling and unfolding the shirt he had -sewn. - -The Frenchman glanced around uneasily and then, as if overcoming his -hesitation, rapidly threw off his uniform and put on the shirt. He had -a long, greasy, flowered silk waistcoat next to his sallow, thin -bare body, but no shirt. He was evidently afraid the prisoners looking -on would laugh at him, and thrust his head into the shirt hurriedly. -None of the prisoners said a word. - -"See, it fits well!" Platon kept repeating, pulling the shirt -straight. - -The Frenchman, having pushed his head and hands through, without -raising his eyes, looked down at the shirt and examined the seams. - -"You see, dear man, this is not a sewing shop, and I had no proper -tools; and, as they say, one needs a tool even to kill a louse," -said Platon with one of his round smiles, obviously pleased with his -work. - -"It's good, quite good, thank you," said the Frenchman, in French, -"but there must be some linen left over. - -"It will fit better still when it sets to your body," said Karataev, -still admiring his handiwork. "You'll be nice and comfortable...." - -"Thanks, thanks, old fellow.... But the bits left over?" said the -Frenchman again and smiled. He took out an assignation ruble note -and gave it to Karataev. "But give me the pieces that are over." - -Pierre saw that Platon did not want to understand what the Frenchman -was saying, and he looked on without interfering. Karataev thanked the -Frenchman for the money and went on admiring his own work. The -Frenchman insisted on having the pieces returned that were left over -and asked Pierre to translate what he said. - -"What does he want the bits for?" said Karataev. "They'd make fine -leg bands for us. Well, never mind." - -And Karataev, with a suddenly changed and saddened expression, -took a small bundle of scraps from inside his shirt and gave it to the -Frenchman without looking at him. "Oh dear!" muttered Karataev and -went away. The Frenchman looked at the linen, considered for a moment, -then looked inquiringly at Pierre and, as if Pierre's look had told -him something, suddenly blushed and shouted in a squeaky voice: - -"Platoche! Eh, Platoche! Keep them yourself!" And handing back the -odd bits he turned and went out. - -"There, look at that," said Karataev, swaying his head. "People said -they were not Christians, but they too have souls. It's what the old -folk used to say: 'A sweating hand's an open hand, a dry hand's -close.' He's naked, but yet he's given it back." - -Karataev smiled thoughtfully and was silent awhile looking at the -pieces. - -"But they'll make grand leg bands, dear friend," he said, and went -back into the shed. - -CHAPTER XII - -Four weeks had passed since Pierre had been taken prisoner and -though the French had offered to move him from the men's to the -officers' shed, he had stayed in the shed where he was first put. - -In burned and devastated Moscow Pierre experienced almost the -extreme limits of privation a man can endure; but thanks to his -physical strength and health, of which he had till then been -unconscious, and thanks especially to the fact that the privations -came so gradually that it was impossible to say when they began, he -endured his position not only lightly but joyfully. And just at this -time he obtained the tranquillity and ease of mind he had formerly -striven in vain to reach. He had long sought in different ways that -tranquillity of mind, that inner harmony which had so impressed him in -the soldiers at the battle of Borodino. He had sought it in -philanthropy, in Freemasonry, in the dissipations of town life, in -wine, in heroic feats of self-sacrifice, and in romantic love for -Natasha; he had sought it by reasoning- and all these quests and -experiments had failed him. And now without thinking about it he had -found that peace and inner harmony only through the horror of death, -through privation, and through what he recognized in Karataev. - -Those dreadful moments he had lived through at the executions had as -it were forever washed away from his imagination and memory the -agitating thoughts and feelings that had formerly seemed so important. -It did not now occur to him to think of Russia, or the war, or -politics, or Napoleon. It was plain to him that all these things -were no business of his, and that he was not called on to judge -concerning them and therefore could not do so. "Russia and summer -weather are not bound together," he thought, repeating words of -Karataev's which he found strangely consoling. His intention of -killing Napoleon and his calculations of the cabalistic number of -the beast of the Apocalypse now seemed to him meaningless and even -ridiculous. His anger with his wife and anxiety that his name should -not be smirched now seemed not merely trivial but even amusing. What -concern was it of his that somewhere or other that woman was leading -the life she preferred? What did it matter to anybody, and -especially to him, whether or not they found out that their prisoner's -name was Count Bezukhov? - -He now often remembered his conversation with Prince Andrew and -quite agreed with him, though he understood Prince Andrew's thoughts -somewhat differently. Prince Andrew had thought and said that -happiness could only be negative, but had said it with a shade of -bitterness and irony as though he was really saying that all desire -for positive happiness is implanted in us merely to torment us and -never be satisfied. But Pierre believed it without any mental -reservation. The absence of suffering, the satisfaction of one's needs -and consequent freedom in the choice of one's occupation, that is, -of one's way of life, now seemed to Pierre to be indubitably man's -highest happiness. Here and now for the first time he fully -appreciated the enjoyment of eating when he wanted to eat, drinking -when he wanted to drink, sleeping when he wanted to sleep, of warmth -when he was cold, of talking to a fellow man when he wished to talk -and to hear a human voice. The satisfaction of one's needs- good food, -cleanliness, and freedom- now that he was deprived of all this, seemed -to Pierre to constitute perfect happiness; and the choice of -occupation, that is, of his way of life- now that that was so -restricted- seemed to him such an easy matter that he forgot that a -superfluity of the comforts of life destroys all joy in satisfying -one's needs, while great freedom in the choice of occupation- such -freedom as his wealth, his education, and his social position had -given him in his own life- is just what makes the choice of occupation -insolubly difficult and destroys the desire and possibility of -having an occupation. - -All Pierre's daydreams now turned on the time when he would be free. -Yet subsequently, and for the rest of his life, he thought and spoke -with enthusiasm of that month of captivity, of those irrecoverable, -strong, joyful sensations, and chiefly of the complete peace of mind -and inner freedom which he experienced only during those weeks. - -When on the first day he got up early, went out of the shed at dawn, -and saw the cupolas and crosses of the New Convent of the Virgin still -dark at first, the hoarfrost on the dusty grass, the Sparrow Hills, -and the wooded banks above the winding river vanishing in the purple -distance, when he felt the contact of the fresh air and heard the -noise of the crows flying from Moscow across the field, and when -afterwards light gleamed from the east and the sun's rim appeared -solemnly from behind a cloud, and the cupolas and crosses, the -hoarfrost, the distance and the river, all began to sparkle in the -glad light- Pierre felt a new joy and strength in life such as he -had never before known. And this not only stayed with him during the -whole of his imprisonment, but even grew in strength as the -hardships of his position increased. - -That feeling of alertness and of readiness for anything was still -further strengthened in him by the high opinion his fellow prisoners -formed of him soon after his arrival at the shed. With his knowledge -of languages, the respect shown him by the French, his simplicity, his -readiness to give anything asked of him (he received the allowance -of three rubles a week made to officers); with his strength, which -he showed to the soldiers by pressing nails into the walls of the hut; -his gentleness to his companions, and his capacity for sitting still -and thinking without doing anything (which seemed to them -incomprehensible), he appeared to them a rather mysterious and -superior being. The very qualities that had been a hindrance, if not -actually harmful, to him in the world he had lived in- his strength, -his disdain for the comforts of life, his absent-mindedness and -simplicity- here among these people gave him almost the status of a -hero. And Pierre felt that their opinion placed responsibilities -upon him. - -CHAPTER XIII - -The French evacuation began on the night between the sixth and -seventh of October: kitchens and sheds were dismantled, carts -loaded, and troops and baggage trains started. - -At seven in the morning a French convoy in marching trim, wearing -shakos and carrying muskets, knapsacks, and enormous sacks, stood in -front of the sheds, and animated French talk mingled with curses -sounded all along the lines. - -In the shed everyone was ready, dressed, belted, shod, and only -awaited the order to start. The sick soldier, Sokolov, pale and thin -with dark shadows round his eyes, alone sat in his place barefoot -and not dressed. His eyes, prominent from the emaciation of his -face, gazed inquiringly at his comrades who were paying no attention -to him, and he moaned regularly and quietly. It was evidently not so -much his sufferings that caused him to moan (he had dysentery) as -his fear and grief at being left alone. - -Pierre, girt with a rope round his waist and wearing shoes -Karataev had made for him from some leather a French soldier had -torn off a tea chest and brought to have his boots mended with, went -up to the sick man and squatted down beside him. - -"You know, Sokolov, they are not all going away! They have a -hospital here. You may be better off than we others," said Pierre. - -"O Lord! Oh, it will be the death of me! O Lord!" moaned the man -in a louder voice. - -"I'll go and ask them again directly," said Pierre, rising and going -to the door of the shed. - -Just as Pierre reached the door, the corporal who had offered him -a pipe the day before came up to it with two soldiers. The corporal -and soldiers were in marching kit with knapsacks and shakos that had -metal straps, and these changed their familiar faces. - -The corporal came, according to orders, to shut the door. The -prisoners had to be counted before being let out. - -"Corporal, what will they do with the sick man?..." Pierre began. - -But even as he spoke he began to doubt whether this was the corporal -he knew or a stranger, so unlike himself did the corporal seem at that -moment. Moreover, just as Pierre was speaking a sharp rattle of -drums was suddenly heard from both sides. The corporal frowned at -Pierre's words and, uttering some meaningless oaths, slammed the door. -The shed became semidark, and the sharp rattle of the drums on two -sides drowned the sick man's groans. - -"There it is!... It again!..." said Pierre to himself, and an -involuntary shudder ran down his spine. In the corporal's changed -face, in the sound of his voice, in the stirring and deafening noise -of the drums, he recognized that mysterious, callous force which -compelled people against their will to kill their fellow men- that -force the effect of which he had witnessed during the executions. To -fear or to try to escape that force, to address entreaties or -exhortations to those who served as its tools, was useless. Pierre -knew this now. One had to wait and endure. He did not again go to -the sick man, nor turn to look at him, but stood frowning by the -door of the hut. - -When that door was opened and the prisoners, crowding against one -another like a flock of sheep, squeezed into the exit, Pierre pushed -his way forward and approached that very captain who as the corporal -had assured him was ready to do anything for him. The captain was also -in marching kit, and on his cold face appeared that same it which -Pierre had recognized in the corporal's words and in the roll of the -drums. - -"Pass on, pass on!" the captain reiterated, frowning sternly, and -looking at the prisoners who thronged past him. - -Pierre went up to him, though he knew his attempt would be vain. - -"What now?" the officer asked with a cold look as if not recognizing -Pierre. - -Pierre told him about the sick man. - -"He'll manage to walk, devil take him!" said the captain. "Pass -on, pass on!" he continued without looking at Pierre. - -"But he is dying," Pierre again began. - -"Be so good..." shouted the captain, frowning angrily. - -"Dram-da-da-dam, dam-dam..." rattled the drums, and Pierre -understood that this mysterious force completely controlled these -men and that it was now useless to say any more. - -The officer prisoners were separated from the soldiers and told to -march in front. There were about thirty officers, with Pierre among -them, and about three hundred men. - -The officers, who had come from the other sheds, were all -strangers to Pierre and much better dressed than he. They looked at -him and at his shoes mistrustfully, as at an alien. Not far from him -walked a fat major with a sallow, bloated, angry face, who was wearing -a Kazan dressing grown tied round with a towel, and who evidently -enjoyed the respect of his fellow prisoners. He kept one hand, in -which he clasped his tobacco pouch, inside the bosom of his dressing -gown and held the stem of his pipe firmly with the other. Panting -and puffing, the major grumbled and growled at everybody because he -thought he was being pushed and that they were all hurrying when -they had nowhere to hurry to and were all surprised at something -when there was nothing to be surprised at. Another, a thin little -officer, was speaking to everyone, conjecturing where they were now -being taken and how far they would get that day. An official in felt -boots and wearing a commissariat uniform ran round from side to side -and gazed at the ruins of Moscow, loudly announcing his observations -as to what had been burned down and what this or that part of the city -was that they could see. A third officer, who by his accent was a -Pole, disputed with the commissariat officer, arguing that he was -mistaken in his identification of the different wards of Moscow. - -"What are you disputing about?" said the major angrily. "What does -it matter whether it is St. Nicholas or St. Blasius? You see it's -burned down, and there's an end of it.... What are you pushing for? -Isn't the road wide enough?" said he, turning to a man behind him -who was not pushing him at all. - -"Oh, oh, oh! What have they done?" the prisoners on one side and -another were heard saying as they gazed on the charred ruins. "All -beyond the river, and Zubova, and in the Kremlin.... Just look! -There's not half of it left. Yes, I told you- the whole quarter beyond -the river, and so it is." - -"Well, you know it's burned, so what's the use of talking?" said the -major. - -As they passed near a church in the Khamovniki (one of the few -unburned quarters of Moscow) the whole mass of prisoners suddenly -started to one side and exclamations of horror and disgust were heard. - -"Ah, the villains! What heathens! Yes; dead, dead, so he is... And -smeared with something!" - -Pierre too drew near the church where the thing was that evoked -these exclamations, and dimly made out something leaning against the -palings surrounding the church. From the words of his comrades who saw -better than he did, he found that this was the body of a man, set -upright against the palings with its face smeared with soot. - -"Go on! What the devil... Go on! Thirty thousand devils!..." the -convoy guards began cursing and the French soldiers, with fresh -virulence, drove away with their swords the crowd of prisoners who -were gazing at the dead man. - -CHAPTER XIV - -Through the cross streets of the Khamovniki quarter the prisoners -marched, followed only by their escort and the vehicles and wagons -belonging to that escort, but when they reached the supply stores they -came among a huge and closely packed train of artillery mingled with -private vehicles. - -At the bridge they all halted, waiting for those in front to get -across. From the bridge they had a view of endless lines of moving -baggage trains before and behind them. To the right, where the -Kaluga road turns near Neskuchny, endless rows of troops and carts -stretched away into the distance. These were troops of Beauharnais' -corps which had started before any of the others. Behind, along the -riverside and across the Stone Bridge, were Ney's troops and -transport. - -Davout's troops, in whose charge were the prisoners, were crossing -the Crimean bridge and some were already debouching into the Kaluga -road. But the baggage trains stretched out so that the last of -Beauharnais' train had not yet got out of Moscow and reached the -Kaluga road when the vanguard of Ney's army was already emerging -from the Great Ordynka Street. - -When they had crossed the Crimean bridge the prisoners moved a few -steps forward, halted, and again moved on, and from all sides vehicles -and men crowded closer and closer together. They advanced the few -hundred paces that separated the bridge from the Kaluga road, taking -more than an hour to do so, and came out upon the square where the -streets of the Transmoskva ward and the Kaluga road converge, and -the prisoners jammed close together had to stand for some hours at -that crossway. From all sides, like the roar of the sea, were heard -the rattle of wheels, the tramp of feet, and incessant shouts of anger -and abuse. Pierre stood pressed against the wall of a charred house, -listening to that noise which mingled in his imagination with the roll -of the drums. - -To get a better view, several officer prisoners climbed onto the -wall of the half-burned house against which Pierre was leaning. - -"What crowds! Just look at the crowds!... They've loaded goods -even on the cannon! Look there, those are furs!" they exclaimed. "Just -see what the blackguards have looted.... There! See what that one -has behind in the cart.... Why, those are settings taken from some -icons, by heaven!... Oh, the rascals!... See how that fellow has -loaded himself up, he can hardly walk! Good lord, they've even grabbed -those chaises!... See that fellow there sitting on the trunks.... -Heavens! They're fighting." - -"That's right, hit him on the snout- on his snout! Like this, we -shan't get away before evening. Look, look there.... Why, that must be -Napoleon's own. See what horses! And the monograms with a crown! -It's like a portable house.... That fellow's dropped his sack and -doesn't see it. Fighting again... A woman with a baby, and not -bad-looking either! Yes, I dare say, that's the way they'll let you -pass... Just look, there's no end to it. Russian wenches, by heaven, -so they are! In carriages- see how comfortably they've settled -themselves!" - -Again, as at the church in Khamovniki, a wave of general curiosity -bore all the prisoners forward onto the road, and Pierre, thanks to -his stature, saw over the heads of the others what so attracted -their curiosity. In three carriages involved among the munition carts, -closely squeezed together, sat women with rouged faces, dressed in -glaring colors, who were shouting something in shrill voices. - -From the moment Pierre had recognized the appearance of the -mysterious force nothing had seemed to him strange or dreadful: -neither the corpse smeared with soot for fun nor these women -hurrying away nor the burned ruins of Moscow. All that he now -witnessed scarcely made an impression on him- as if his soul, making -ready for a hard struggle, refused to receive impressions that might -weaken it. - -The women's vehicles drove by. Behind them came more carts, -soldiers, wagons, soldiers, gun carriages, carriages, soldiers, -ammunition carts, more soldiers, and now and then women. - -Pierre did not see the people as individuals but saw their movement. - -All these people and horses seemed driven forward by some -invisible power. During the hour Pierre watched them they all came -flowing from the different streets with one and the same desire to get -on quickly; they all jostled one another, began to grow angry and to -fight, white teeth gleamed, brows frowned, ever the same words of -abuse flew from side to side, and all the faces bore the same -swaggeringly resolute and coldly cruel expression that had struck -Pierre that morning on the corporal's face when the drums were -beating. - -It was not till nearly evening that the officer commanding the -escort collected his men and with shouts and quarrels forced his way -in among the baggage trains, and the prisoners, hemmed in on all -sides, emerged onto the Kaluga road. - -They marched very quickly, without resting, and halted only when the -sun began to set. The baggage carts drew up close together and the men -began to prepare for their night's rest. They all appeared angry and -dissatisfied. For a long time, oaths, angry shouts, and fighting could -be heard from all sides. A carriage that followed the escort ran -into one of the carts and knocked a hole in it with its pole. -Several soldiers ran toward the cart from different sides: some beat -the carriage horses on their heads, turning them aside, others -fought among themselves, and Pierre saw that one German was badly -wounded on the head by a sword. - -It seemed that all these men, now that they had stopped amid -fields in the chill dusk of the autumn evening, experienced one and -the same feeling of unpleasant awakening from the hurry and -eagerness to push on that had seized them at the start. Once at a -standstill they all seemed to understand that they did not yet know -where they were going, and that much that was painful and difficult -awaited them on this journey. - -During this halt the escort treated the prisoners even worse than -they had done at the start. It was here that the prisoners for the -first time received horseflesh for their meat ration. - -From the officer down to the lowest soldier they showed what -seemed like personal spite against each of the prisoners, in -unexpected contrast to their former friendly relations. - -This spite increased still more when, on calling over the roll of -prisoners, it was found that in the bustle of leaving Moscow one -Russian soldier, who had pretended to suffer from colic, had -escaped. Pierre saw a Frenchman beat a Russian soldier cruelly for -straying too far from the road, and heard his friend the captain -reprimand and threaten to court-martial a noncommissioned officer on -account of the escape of the Russian. To the noncommissioned officer's -excuse that the prisoner was ill and could not walk, the officer -replied that the order was to shoot those who lagged behind. Pierre -felt that that fatal force which had crushed him during the -executions, but which be had not felt during his imprisonment, now -again controlled his existence. It was terrible, but he felt that in -proportion to the efforts of that fatal force to crush him, there grew -and strengthened in his soul a power of life independent of it. - -He ate his supper of buckwheat soup with horseflesh and chatted with -his comrades. - -Neither Pierre nor any of the others spoke of what they had seen -in Moscow, or of the roughness of their treatment by the French, or of -the order to shoot them which had been announced to them. As if in -reaction against the worsening of their position they were all -particularly animated and gay. They spoke of personal reminiscences, -of amusing scenes they had witnessed during the campaign, and -avoided all talk of their present situation. - -The sun had set long since. Bright stars shone out here and there in -the sky. A red glow as of a conflagration spread above the horizon -from the rising full moon, and that vast red ball swayed strangely -in the gray haze. It grew light. The evening was ending, but the night -had not yet come. Pierre got up and left his new companions, -crossing between the campfires to the other side of the road where -he had been told the common soldier prisoners were stationed. He -wanted to talk to them. On the road he was stopped by a French -sentinel who ordered him back. - -Pierre turned back, not to his companions by the campfire, but to an -unharnessed cart where there was nobody. Tucking his legs under him -and dropping his head he sat down on the cold ground by the wheel of -the cart and remained motionless a long while sunk in thought. -Suddenly he burst out into a fit of his broad, good-natured -laughter, so loud that men from various sides turned with surprise -to see what this strange and evidently solitary laughter could mean. - -"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Pierre. And he said aloud to himself: "The -soldier did not let me pass. They took me and shut me up. They hold me -captive. What, me? Me? My immortal soul? Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!..." and -he laughed till tears started to his eyes. - -A man got up and came to see what this queer big fellow was laughing -at all by himself. Pierre stopped laughing, got up, went farther -away from the inquisitive man, and looked around him. - -The huge, endless bivouac that had previously resounded with the -crackling of campfires and the voices of many men had grown quiet, the -red campfires were growing paler and dying down. High up in the -light sky hung the full moon. Forests and fields beyond the camp, -unseen before, were now visible in the distance. And farther still, -beyond those forests and fields, the bright, oscillating, limitless -distance lured one to itself. Pierre glanced up at the sky and the -twinkling stars in its faraway depths. "And all that is me, all that -is within me, and it is all I!" thought Pierre. "And they caught all -that and put it into a shed boarded up with planks!" He smiled, and -went and lay down to sleep beside his companions. - -CHAPTER XV - -In the early days of October another envoy came to Kutuzov with a -letter from Napoleon proposing peace and falsely dated from Moscow, -though Napoleon was already not far from Kutuzov on the old Kaluga -road. Kutuzov replied to this letter as he had done to the one -formerly brought by Lauriston, saying that there could be no -question of peace. - -Soon after that a report was received from Dorokhov's guerrilla -detachment operating to the left of Tarutino that troops of -Broussier's division had been seen at Forminsk and that being -separated from the rest of the French army they might easily be -destroyed. The soldiers and officers again demanded action. Generals -on the staff, excited by the memory of the easy victory at Tarutino, -urged Kutuzov to carry out Dorokhov's suggestion. Kutuzov did not -consider any offensive necessary. The result was a compromise which -was inevitable: a small detachment was sent to Forminsk to attack -Broussier. - -By a strange coincidence, this task, which turned out to be a most -difficult and important one, was entrusted to Dokhturov- that same -modest little Dokhturov whom no one had described to us as drawing -up plans of battles, dashing about in front of regiments, showering -crosses on batteries, and so on, and who was thought to be and was -spoken of as undecided and undiscerning- but whom we find commanding -wherever the position was most difficult all through the -Russo-French wars from Austerlitz to the year 1813. At Austerlitz he -remained last at the Augezd dam, rallying the regiments, saving what -was possible when all were flying and perishing and not a single -general was left in the rear guard. Ill with fever he went to Smolensk -with twenty thousand men to defend the town against Napoleon's whole -army. In Smolensk, at the Malakhov Gate, he had hardly dozed off in -a paroxysm of fever before he was awakened by the bombardment of the -town- and Smolensk held out all day long. At the battle of Borodino, -when Bagration was killed and nine tenths of the men of our left flank -had fallen and the full force of the French artillery fire was -directed against it, the man sent there was this same irresolute and -undiscerning Dokhturov- Kutuzov hastening to rectify a mistake he -had made by sending someone else there first. And the quiet little -Dokhturov rode thither, and Borodino became the greatest glory of -the Russian army. Many heroes have been described to us in verse and -prose, but of Dokhturov scarcely a word has been said. - -It was Dokhturov again whom they sent to Forminsk and from there -to Malo-Yaroslavets, the place where the last battle with the French -was fought and where the obvious disintegration of the French army -began; and we are told of many geniuses and heroes of that period of -the campaign, but of Dokhturov nothing or very little is said and that -dubiously. And this silence about Dokhturov is the clearest -testimony to his merit. - -It is natural for a man who does not understand the workings of a -machine to imagine that a shaving that has fallen into it by chance -and is interfering with its action and tossing about in it is its most -important part. The man who does not understand the construction of -the machine cannot conceive that the small connecting cogwheel which -revolves quietly is one of the most essential parts of the machine, -and not the shaving which merely harms and hinders the working. - -On the tenth of October when Dokhturov had gone halfway to -Forminsk and stopped at the village of Aristovo, preparing -faithfully to execute the orders he had received, the whole French -army having, in its convulsive movement, reached Murat's position -apparently in order to give battle- suddenly without any reason turned -off to the left onto the new Kaluga road and began to enter -Forminsk, where only Broussier had been till then. At that time -Dokhturov had under his command, besides Dorokhov's detachment, the -two small guerrilla detachments of Figner and Seslavin. - -On the evening of October 11 Seslavin came to the Aristovo -headquarters with a French guardsman he had captured. The prisoner -said that the troops that had entered Forminsk that day were the -vanguard of the whole army, that Napoleon was there and the whole army -had left Moscow four days previously. That same evening a house serf -who had come from Borovsk said he had seen an immense army entering -the town. Some Cossacks of Dokhturov's detachment reported having -sighted the French Guards marching along the road to Borovsk. From all -these reports it was evident that where they had expected to meet a -single division there was now the whole French army marching from -Moscow in an unexpected direction- along the Kaluga road. Dokhturov -was unwilling to undertake any action, as it was not clear to him -now what he ought to do. He had been ordered to attack Forminsk. But -only Broussier had been there at that time and now the whole French -army was there. Ermolov wished to act on his own judgment, but -Dokhturov insisted that he must have Kutuzov's instructions. So it was -decided to send a dispatch to the staff. - -For this purpose a capable officer, Bolkhovitinov, was chosen, who -was to explain the whole affair by word of mouth, besides delivering a -written report. Toward midnight Bolkhovitinov, having received the -dispatch and verbal instructions, galloped off to the General Staff -accompanied by a Cossack with spare horses. - -CHAPTER XVI - -It was a warm, dark, autumn night. It had been raining for four -days. Having changed horses twice and galloped twenty miles in an hour -and a half over a sticky, muddy road, Bolkhovitinov reached Litashevka -after one o'clock at night. Dismounting at a cottage on whose wattle -fence hung a signboard, GENERAL STAFF, and throwing down his reins, he -entered a dark passage. - -"The general on duty, quick! It's very important!" said he to -someone who had risen and was sniffing in the dark passage. - -"He has been very unwell since the evening and this is the third -night he has not slept," said the orderly pleadingly in a whisper. -"You should wake the captain first." - -"But this is very important, from General Dokhturov," said -Bolkhovitinov, entering the open door which he had found by feeling in -the dark. - -The orderly had gone in before him and began waking somebody. - -"Your honor, your honor! A courier." - -"What? What's that? From whom?" came a sleepy voice. - -"From Dokhturov and from Alexey Petrovich. Napoleon is at Forminsk," -said Bolkhovitinov, unable to see in the dark who was speaking but -guessing by the voice that it was not Konovnitsyn. - -The man who had wakened yawned and stretched himself. - -"I don't like waking him," he said, fumbling for something. "He is -very ill. Perhaps this is only a rumor." - -"Here is the dispatch," said Bolkhovitinov. "My orders are to give -it at once to the general on duty." - -"Wait a moment, I'll light a candle. You damned rascal, where do you -always hide it?" said the voice of the man who was stretching himself, -to the orderly. (This was Shcherbinin, Konovnitsyn's adjutant.) -"I've found it, I've found it!" he added. - -The orderly was striking a light and Shcherbinin was fumbling for -something on the candlestick. - -"Oh, the nasty beasts!" said he with disgust. - -By the light of the sparks Bolkhovitinov saw Shcherbinin's -youthful face as he held the candle, and the face of another man who -was still asleep. This was Konovnitsyn. - -When the flame of the sulphur splinters kindled by the tinder burned -up, first blue and then red, Shcherbinin lit the tallow candle, from -the candlestick of which the cockroaches that had been gnawing it were -running away, and looked at the messenger. Bolkhovitinov was -bespattered all over with mud and had smeared his face by wiping it -with his sleeve. - -"Who gave the report?" inquired Shcherbinin, taking the envelope. - -"The news is reliable," said Bolkhovitinov. "Prisoners, Cossacks, -and the scouts all say the same thing." - -"There's nothing to be done, we'll have to wake him," said -Shcherbinin, rising and going up to the man in the nightcap who lay -covered by a greatcoat. "Peter Petrovich!" said he. (Konovnitsyn did -not stir.) "To the General Staff!" he said with a smile, knowing -that those words would be sure to arouse him. - -And in fact the head in the nightcap was lifted at once. On -Konovnitsyn's handsome, resolute face with cheeks flushed by fever, -there still remained for an instant a faraway dreamy expression remote -from present affairs, but then he suddenly started and his face -assumed its habitual calm and firm appearance. - -"Well, what is it? From whom?" he asked immediately but without -hurry, blinking at the light. - -While listening to the officer's report Konovnitsyn broke the seal -and read the dispatch. Hardly had he done so before he lowered his -legs in their woolen stockings to the earthen floor and began -putting on his boots. Then he took off his nightcap, combed his hair -over his temples, and donned his cap. - -"Did you get here quickly? Let us go to his Highness." - -Konovnitsyn had understood at once that the news brought was of -great importance and that no time must be lost. He did not consider or -ask himself whether the news was good or bad. That did not interest -him. He regarded the whole business of the war not with his -intelligence or his reason but by something else. There was within him -a deep unexpressed conviction that all would be well, but that one -must not trust to this and still less speak about it, but must only -attend to one's own work. And he did his work, giving his whole -strength to the task. - -Peter Petrovich Konovnitsyn, like Dokhturov, seems to have been -included merely for propriety's sake in the list of the so-called -heroes of 1812- the Barclays, Raevskis, Ermolovs, Platovs, and -Miloradoviches. Like Dokhturov he had the reputation of being a man of -very limited capacity and information, and like Dokhturov he never -made plans of battle but was always found where the situation was most -difficult. Since his appointment as general on duty he had always -slept with his door open, giving orders that every messenger should be -allowed to wake him up. In battle he was always under fire, so that -Kutuzov reproved him for it and feared to send him to the front, and -like Dokhturov he was one of those unnoticed cogwheels that, without -clatter or noise, constitute the most essential part of the machine. - -Coming out of the hut into the damp, dark night Konovnitsyn frowned- -partly from an increased pain in his head and partly at the unpleasant -thought that occurred to him, of how all that nest of influential -men on the staff would be stirred up by this news, especially -Bennigsen, who ever since Tarutino had been at daggers drawn with -Kutuzov; and how they would make suggestions, quarrel, issue orders, -and rescind them. And this premonition was disagreeable to him -though he knew it could not be helped. - -And in fact Toll, to whom he went to communicate the news, -immediately began to expound his plans to a general sharing his -quarters, until Konovnitsyn, who listened in weary silence, reminded -him that they must go to see his Highness. - -CHAPTER XVII - -Kutuzov like all old people did not sleep much at night. He often -fell asleep unexpectedly in the daytime, but at night, lying on his -bed without undressing, he generally remained awake thinking. - -So he lay now on his bed, supporting his large, heavy, scarred -head on his plump hand, with his one eye open, meditating and -peering into the darkness. - -Since Bennigsen, who corresponded with the Emperor and had more -influence than anyone else on the staff, had begun to avoid him, -Kutuzov was more at ease as to the possibility of himself and his -troops being obliged to take part in useless aggressive movements. The -lesson of the Tarutino battle and of the day before it, which -Kutuzov remembered with pain, must, he thought, have some effect on -others too. - -"They must understand that we can only lose by taking the offensive. -Patience and time are my warriors, my champions," thought Kutuzov. -He knew that an apple should not be plucked while it is green. It will -fall of itself when ripe, but if picked unripe the apple is spoiled, -the tree is harmed, and your teeth are set on edge. Like an -experienced sportsman he knew that the beast was wounded, and -wounded as only the whole strength of Russia could have wounded it, -but whether it was mortally wounded or not was still an undecided -question. Now by the fact of Lauriston and Barthelemi having been -sent, and by the reports of the guerrillas, Kutuzov was almost sure -that the wound was mortal. But he needed further proofs and it was -necessary to wait. - -"They want to run to see how they have wounded it. Wait and we shall -see! Continual maneuvers, continual advances!" thought he. "What -for? Only to distinguish themselves! As if fighting were fun. They are -like children from whom one can't get any sensible account of what has -happened because they all want to show how well they can fight. But -that's not what is needed now. - -"And what ingenious maneuvers they all propose to me! It seems to -them that when they have thought of two or three contingencies" (he -remembered the general plan sent him from Petersburg) "they have -foreseen everything. But the contingencies are endless." - -The undecided question as to whether the wound inflicted at Borodino -was mortal or not had hung over Kutuzov's head for a whole month. On -the one hand the French had occupied Moscow. On the other Kutuzov felt -assured with all his being that the terrible blow into which he and -all the Russians had put their whole strength must have been mortal. -But in any case proofs were needed; he had waited a whole month for -them and grew more impatient the longer he waited. Lying on his bed -during those sleepless nights he did just what he reproached those -younger generals for doing. He imagined all sorts of possible -contingencies, just like the younger men, but with this difference, -that he saw thousands of contingencies instead of two or three and -based nothing on them. The longer he thought the more contingencies -presented themselves. He imagined all sorts of movements of the -Napoleonic army as a whole or in sections- against Petersburg, or -against him, or to outflank him. He thought too of the possibility -(which he feared most of all) that Napoleon might fight him with his -own weapon and remain in Moscow awaiting him. Kutuzov even imagined -that Napoleon's army might turn back through Medyn and Yukhnov, but -the one thing he could not foresee was what happened- the insane, -convulsive stampede of Napoleon's army during its first eleven days -after leaving Moscow: a stampede which made possible what Kutuzov -had not yet even dared to think of- the complete extermination of -the French. Dorokhov's report about Broussier's division, the -guerrillas' reports of distress in Napoleon's army, rumors of -preparations for leaving Moscow, all confirmed the supposition that -the French army was beaten and preparing for flight. But these were -only suppositions, which seemed important to the younger men but not -to Kutuzov. With his sixty years' experience he knew what value to -attach to rumors, knew how apt people who desire anything are to group -all news so that it appears to confirm what they desire, and he knew -how readily in such cases they omit all that makes for the contrary. -And the more he desired it the less he allowed himself to believe -it. This question absorbed all his mental powers. All else was to -him only life's customary routine. To such customary routine -belonged his conversations with the staff, the letters he wrote from -Tarutino to Madame de Stael, the reading of novels, the distribution -of awards, his correspondence with Petersburg, and so on. But the -destruction of the French, which he alone foresaw, was his heart's one -desire. - -On the night of the eleventh of October he lay leaning on his arm -and thinking of that. - -There was a stir in the next room and he heard the steps of Toll, -Konovnitsyn, and Bolkhovitinov. - -"Eh, who's there? Come in, come in! What news?" the field marshal -called out to them. - -While a footman was lighting a candle, Toll communicated the -substance of the news. - -"Who brought it?" asked Kutuzov with a look which, when the candle -was lit, struck Toll by its cold severity. - -"There can be no doubt about it, your Highness." - -"Call him in, call him here." - -Kutuzov sat up with one leg hanging down from the bed and his big -paunch resting against the other which was doubled under him. He -screwed up his seeing eye to scrutinize the messenger more -carefully, as if wishing to read in his face what preoccupied his -own mind. - -"Tell me, tell me, friend," said he to Bolkhovitinov in his low, -aged voice, as he pulled together the shirt which gaped open on his -chest, "come nearer- nearer. What news have you brought me? Eh? That -Napoleon has left Moscow? Are you sure? Eh?" - -Bolkhovitinov gave a detailed account from the beginning of all he -had been told to report. - -"Speak quicker, quicker! Don't torture me!" Kutuzov interrupted him. - -Bolkhovitinov told him everything and was then silent, awaiting -instructions. Toll was beginning to say something but Kutuzov -checked him. He tried to say something, but his face suddenly puckered -and wrinkled; he waved his arm at Toll and turned to the opposite side -of the room, to the corner darkened by the icons that hung there. - -"O Lord, my Creator, Thou has heard our prayer..." said he in a -tremulous voice with folded hands. "Russia is saved. I thank Thee, O -Lord!" and he wept. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -From the time he received this news to the end of the campaign all -Kutuzov's activity was directed toward restraining his troops, by -authority, by guile, and by entreaty, from useless attacks, maneuvers, -or encounters with the perishing enemy. Dokhturov went to -Malo-Yaroslavets, but Kutuzov lingered with the main army and gave -orders for the evacuation of Kaluga- a retreat beyond which town -seemed to him quite possible. - -Everywhere Kutuzov retreated, but the enemy without waiting for -his retreat fled in the opposite direction. - -Napoleon's historians describe to us his skilled maneuvers at -Tarutino and Malo-Yaroslavets, and make conjectures as to what would -have happened had Napoleon been in time to penetrate into the rich -southern provinces. - -But not to speak of the fact that nothing prevented him from -advancing into those southern provinces (for the Russian army did -not bar his way), the historians forget that nothing could have -saved his army, for then already it bore within itself the germs of -inevitable ruin. How could that army- which had found abundant -supplies in Moscow and had trampled them underfoot instead of -keeping them, and on arriving at Smolensk had looted provisions -instead of storing them- how could that army recuperate in Kaluga -province, which was inhabited by Russians such as those who lived in -Moscow, and where fire had the same property of consuming what was set -ablaze? - -That army could not recover anywhere. Since the battle of Borodino -and the pillage of Moscow it had borne within itself, as it were, -the chemical elements of dissolution. - -The members of what had once been an army- Napoleon himself and -all his soldiers fled- without knowing whither, each concerned only to -make his escape as quickly as possible from this position, of the -hopelessness of which they were all more or less vaguely conscious. - -So it came about that at the council at Malo-Yaroslavets, when the -generals pretending to confer together expressed various opinions, all -mouths were closed by the opinion uttered by the simple-minded soldier -Mouton who, speaking last, said what they all felt: that the one thing -needful was to get away as quickly as possible; and no one, not even -Napoleon, could say anything against that truth which they all -recognized. - -But though they all realized that it was necessary to get away, -there still remained a feeling of shame at admitting that they must -flee. An external shock was needed to overcome that shame, and this -shock came in due time. It was what the French called "le hourra de -l'Empereur." - -The day after the council at Malo-Yaroslavets Napoleon rode out -early in the morning amid the lines of his army with his suite of -marshals and an escort, on the pretext of inspecting the army and -the scene of the previous and of the impending battle. Some Cossacks -on the prowl for booty fell in with the Emperor and very nearly -captured him. If the Cossacks did not capture Napoleon then, what -saved him was the very thing that was destroying the French army, -the booty on which the Cossacks fell. Here as at Tarutino they went -after plunder, leaving the men. Disregarding Napoleon they rushed -after the plunder and Napoleon managed to escape. - -When les enfants du Don might so easily have taken the Emperor -himself in the midst of his army, it was clear that there was -nothing for it but to fly as fast as possible along the nearest, -familiar road. Napoleon with his forty-year-old stomach understood -that hint, not feeling his former agility and boldness, and under -the influence of the fright the Cossacks had given him he at once -agreed with Mouton and issued orders- as the historians tell us- to -retreat by the Smolensk road. - -That Napoleon agreed with Mouton, and that the army retreated, -does not prove that Napoleon caused it to retreat, but that the forces -which influenced the whole army and directed it along the Mozhaysk -(that is, the Smolensk) road acted simultaneously on him also. - -CHAPTER XIX - -A man in motion always devises an aim for that motion. To be able to -go a thousand miles he must imagine that something good awaits him -at the end of those thousand miles. One must have the prospect of a -promised land to have the strength to move. - -The promised land for the French during their advance had been -Moscow, during their retreat it was their native land. But that native -land was too far off, and for a man going a thousand miles it is -absolutely necessary to set aside his final goal and to say to -himself: "Today I shall get to a place twenty-five miles off where I -shall rest and spend the night," and during the first day's journey -that resting place eclipses his ultimate goal and attracts all his -hopes and desires. And the impulses felt by a single person are always -magnified in a crowd. - -For the French retreating along the old Smolensk road, the final -goal- their native land- was too remote, and their immediate goal -was Smolensk, toward which all their desires and hopes, enormously -intensified in the mass, urged them on. It was not that they knew that -much food and fresh troops awaited them in Smolensk, nor that they -were told so (on the contrary their superior officers, and Napoleon -himself, knew that provisions were scarce there), but because this -alone could give them strength to move on and endure their present -privations. So both those who knew and those who did not know deceived -themselves, and pushed on to Smolensk as to a promised land. - -Coming out onto the highroad the French fled with surprising -energy and unheard-of rapidity toward the goal they had fixed on. -Besides the common impulse which bound the whole crowd of French -into one mass and supplied them with a certain energy, there was -another cause binding them together- their great numbers. As with -the physical law of gravity, their enormous mass drew the individual -human atoms to itself. In their hundreds of thousands they moved -like a whole nation. - -Each of them desired nothing more than to give himself up as a -prisoner to escape from all this horror and misery; but on the one -hand the force of this common attraction to Smolensk, their goal, drew -each of them in the same direction; on the other hand an army corps -could not surrender to a company, and though the French availed -themselves of every convenient opportunity to detach themselves and to -surrender on the slightest decent pretext, such pretexts did not -always occur. Their very numbers and their crowded and swift -movement deprived them of that possibility and rendered it not only -difficult but impossible for the Russians to stop this movement, to -which the French were directing all their energies. Beyond a certain -limit no mechanical disruption of the body could hasten the process of -decomposition. - -A lump of snow cannot be melted instantaneously. There is a -certain limit of time in less than which no amount of heat can melt -the snow. On the contrary the greater the heat the more solidified the -remaining snow becomes. - -Of the Russian commanders Kutuzov alone understood this. When the -flight of the French army along the Smolensk road became well defined, -what Konovnitsyn had foreseen on the night of the eleventh of -October began to occur. The superior officers all wanted to -distinguish themselves, to cut off, to seize, to capture, and to -overthrow the French, and all clamored for action. - -Kutuzov alone used all his power (and such power is very limited -in the case of any commander in chief) to prevent an attack. - -He could not tell them what we say now: "Why fight, why block the -road, losing our own men and inhumanly slaughtering unfortunate -wretches? What is the use of that, when a third of their army has -melted away on the road from Moscow to Vyazma without any battle?" But -drawing from his aged wisdom what they could understand, he told -them of the golden bridge, and they laughed at and slandered him, -flinging themselves on, rending and exulting over the dying beast. - -Ermolov, Miloradovich, Platov, and others in proximity to the French -near Vyazma could not resist their desire to cut off and break up -two French corps, and by way of reporting their intention to Kutuzov -they sent him a blank sheet of paper in an envelope. - -And try as Kutuzov might to restrain the troops, our men attacked, -trying to bar the road. Infantry regiments, we are told, advanced to -the attack with music and with drums beating, and killed and lost -thousands of men. - -But they did not cut off or overthrow anybody and the French army, -closing up more firmly at the danger, continued, while steadily -melting away, to pursue its fatal path to Smolensk. - -BOOK FOURTEEN: 1812 - -CHAPTER I - -The Battle of Borodino, with the occupation of Moscow that -followed it and the flight of the French without further conflicts, is -one of the most instructive phenomena in history. - -All historians agree that the external activity of states and -nations in their conflicts with one another is expressed in wars, -and that as a direct result of greater or less success in war the -political strength of states and nations increases or decreases. - -Strange as may be the historical account of how some king or -emperor, having quarreled with another, collects an army, fights his -enemy's army, gains a victory by killing three, five, or ten -thousand men, and subjugates a kingdom and an entire nation of several -millions, all the facts of history (as far as we know it) confirm -the truth of the statement that the greater or lesser success of one -army against another is the cause, or at least an essential -indication, of an increase or decrease in the strength of the -nation- even though it is unintelligible why the defeat of an army- -a hundredth part of a nation- should oblige that whole nation to -submit. An army gains a victory, and at once the rights of the -conquering nation have increased to the detriment of the defeated. -An army has suffered defeat, and at once a people loses its rights -in proportion to the severity of the reverse, and if its army -suffers a complete defeat the nation is quite subjugated. - -So according to history it has been found from the most ancient -times, and so it is to our own day. All Napoleon's wars serve to -confirm this rule. In proportion to the defeat of the Austrian army -Austria loses its rights, and the rights and the strength of France -increase. The victories of the French at Jena and Auerstadt destroy -the independent existence of Prussia. - -But then, in 1812, the French gain a victory near Moscow. Moscow -is taken and after that, with no further battles, it is not Russia -that ceases to exist, but the French army of six hundred thousand, and -then Napoleonic France itself. To strain the facts to fit the rules of -history: to say that the field of battle at Borodino remained in the -hands of the Russians, or that after Moscow there were other battles -that destroyed Napoleon's army, is impossible. - -After the French victory at Borodino there was no general engagement -nor any that were at all serious, yet the French army ceased to exist. -What does this mean? If it were an example taken from the history of -China, we might say that it was not an historic phenomenon (which is -the historians' usual expedient when anything does not fit their -standards); if the matter concerned some brief conflict in which -only a small number of troops took part, we might treat it as an -exception; but this event occurred before our fathers' eyes, and for -them it was a question of the life or death of their fatherland, and -it happened in the greatest of all known wars. - -The period of the campaign of 1812 from the battle of Borodino to -the expulsion of the French proved that the winning of a battle does -not produce a conquest and is not even an invariable indication of -conquest; it proved that the force which decides the fate of peoples -lies not in the conquerors, nor even in armies and battles, but in -something else. - -The French historians, describing the condition of the French army -before it left Moscow, affirm that all was in order in the Grand Army, -except the cavalry, the artillery, and the transport- there was no -forage for the horses or the cattle. That was a misfortune no one -could remedy, for the peasants of the district burned their hay rather -than let the French have it. - -The victory gained did not bring the usual results because the -peasants Karp and Vlas (who after the French had evacuated Moscow -drove in their carts to pillage the town, and in general personally -failed to manifest any heroic feelings), and the whole innumerable -multitude of such peasants, did not bring their hay to Moscow for -the high price offered them, but burned it instead. - -Let us imagine two men who have come out to fight a duel with -rapiers according to all the rules of the art of fencing. The -fencing has gone on for some time; suddenly one of the combatants, -feeling himself wounded and understanding that the matter is no joke -but concerns his life, throws down his rapier, and seizing the first -cudgel that comes to hand begins to brandish it. Then let us imagine -that the combatant who so sensibly employed the best and simplest -means to attain his end was at the same time influenced by -traditions of chivalry and, desiring to conceal the facts of the case, -insisted that he had gained his victory with the rapier according to -all the rules of art. One can imagine what confusion and obscurity -would result from such an account of the duel. - -The fencer who demanded a contest according to the rules of -fencing was the French army; his opponent who threw away the rapier -and snatched up the cudgel was the Russian people; those who try to -explain the matter according to the rules of fencing are the -historians who have described the event. - -After the burning of Smolensk a war began which did not follow any -previous traditions of war. The burning of towns and villages, the -retreats after battles, the blow dealt at Borodino and the renewed -retreat, the burning of Moscow, the capture of marauders, the -seizure of transports, and the guerrilla war were all departures -from the rules. - -Napoleon felt this, and from the time he took up the correct fencing -attitude in Moscow and instead of his opponent's rapier saw a cudgel -raised above his head, he did not cease to complain to Kutuzov and -to the Emperor Alexander that the war was being carried on contrary to -all the rules- as if there were any rules for killing people. In spite -of the complaints of the French as to the nonobservance of the -rules, in spite of the fact that to some highly placed Russians it -seemed rather disgraceful to fight with a cudgel and they wanted to -assume a pose en quarte or en tierce according to all the rules, and -to make an adroit thrust en prime, and so on- the cudgel of the -people's war was lifted with all its menacing and majestic strength, -and without consulting anyone's tastes or rules and regardless of -anything else, it rose and fell with stupid simplicity, but -consistently, and belabored the French till the whole invasion had -perished. - -And it is well for a people who do not- as the French did in 1813- -salute according to all the rules of art, and, presenting the hilt -of their rapier gracefully and politely, hand it to their -magnanimous conqueror, but at the moment of trial, without asking what -rules others have adopted in similar cases, simply and easily pick -up the first cudgel that comes to hand and strike with it till the -feeling of resentment and revenge in their soul yields to a feeling of -contempt and compassion. - -CHAPTER II - -One of the most obvious and advantageous departures from the -so-called laws of war is the action of scattered groups against men -pressed together in a mass. Such action always occurs in wars that -take on a national character. In such actions, instead of two crowds -opposing each other, the men disperse, attack singly, run away when -attacked by stronger forces, but again attack when opportunity offers. -This was done by the guerrillas in Spain, by the mountain tribes in -the Caucasus, and by the Russians in 1812. - -People have called this kind of war "guerrilla warfare" and assume -that by so calling it they have explained its meaning. But such a -war does not fit in under any rule and is directly opposed to a -well-known rule of tactics which is accepted as infallible. That -rule says that an attacker should concentrate his forces in order to -be stronger than his opponent at the moment of conflict. - -Guerrilla war (always successful, as history shows) directly -infringes that rule. - -This contradiction arises from the fact that military science -assumes the strength of an army to be identical with its numbers. -Military science says that the more troops the greater the strength. -Les gros bataillons ont toujours raison.~{ Large battalions are always victorious. }~ - -For military science to say this is like defining momentum in -mechanics by reference to the mass only: stating that momenta are -equal or unequal to each other simply because the masses involved -are equal or unequal. - -Momentum (quantity of motion) is the product of mass and velocity. - -In military affairs the strength of an army is the product of its -mass and some unknown x. - -Military science, seeing in history innumerable instances of the -fact that the size of any army does not coincide with its strength and -that small detachments defeat larger ones, obscurely admits the -existence of this unknown factor and tries to discover it- now in a -geometric formation, now in the equipment employed, now, and most -usually, in the genius of the commanders. But the assignment of -these various meanings to the factor does not yield results which -accord with the historic facts. - -Yet it is only necessary to abandon the false view (adopted to -gratify the "heroes") of the efficacy of the directions issued in -wartime by commanders, in order to find this unknown quantity. - -That unknown quantity is the spirit of the army, that is to say, the -greater or lesser readiness to fight and face danger felt by all the -men composing an army, quite independently of whether they are, or are -not, fighting under the command of a genius, in two- or three-line -formation, with cudgels or with rifles that repeat thirty times a -minute. Men who want to fight will always put themselves in the most -advantageous conditions for fighting. - -The spirit of an army is the factor which multiplied by the mass -gives the resulting force. To define and express the significance of -this unknown factor- the spirit of an army- is a problem for science. - -This problem is only solvable if we cease arbitrarily to -substitute for the unknown x itself the conditions under which that -force becomes apparent- such as the commands of the general, the -equipment employed, and so on- mistaking these for the real -significance of the factor, and if we recognize this unknown -quantity in its entirety as being the greater or lesser desire to -fight and to face danger. Only then, expressing known historic facts -by equations and comparing the relative significance of this factor, -can we hope to define the unknown. - -Ten men, battalions, or divisions, fighting fifteen men, battalions, -or divisions, conquer- that is, kill or take captive- all the -others, while themselves losing four, so that on the one side four and -on the other fifteen were lost. Consequently the four were equal to -the fifteen, and therefore 4x = 15y. Consequently x/y = 15/4. This -equation does not give us the value of the unknown factor but gives us -a ratio between two unknowns. And by bringing variously selected -historic units (battles, campaigns, periods of war) into such -equations, a series of numbers could be obtained in which certain laws -should exist and might be discovered. - -The tactical rule that an army should act in masses when -attacking, and in smaller groups in retreat, unconsciously confirms -the truth that the strength of an army depends on its spirit. To -lead men forward under fire more discipline (obtainable only by -movement in masses) is needed than is needed to resist attacks. But -this rule which leaves out of account the spirit of the army -continually proves incorrect and is in particularly striking -contrast to the facts when some strong rise or fall in the spirit of -the troops occurs, as in all national wars. - -The French, retreating in 1812- though according to tactics they -should have separated into detachments to defend themselves- -congregated into a mass because the spirit of the army had so fallen -that only the mass held the army together. The Russians, on the -contrary, ought according to tactics to have attacked in mass, but -in fact they split up into small units, because their spirit had so -risen that separate individuals, without orders, dealt blows at the -French without needing any compulsion to induce them to expose -themselves to hardships and dangers. - -CHAPTER III - -The so-called partisan war began with the entry of the French into -Smolensk. - -Before partisan warfare had been officially recognized by the -government, thousands of enemy stragglers, marauders, and foragers had -been destroyed by the Cossacks and the peasants, who killed them off -as instinctively as dogs worry a stray mad dog to death. Denis -Davydov, with his Russian instinct, was the first to recognize the -value of this terrible cudgel which regardless of the rules of -military science destroyed the French, and to him belongs the credit -for taking the first step toward regularizing this method of warfare. - -On August 24 Davydov's first partisan detachment was formed and then -others were recognized. The further the campaign progressed the more -numerous these detachments became. - -The irregulars destroyed the great army piecemeal. They gathered the -fallen leaves that dropped of themselves from that withered tree- -the French army- and sometimes shook that tree itself. By October, -when the French were fleeing toward Smolensk, there were hundreds of -such companies, of various sizes and characters. There were some -that adopted all the army methods and had infantry, artillery, staffs, -and the comforts of life. Others consisted solely of Cossack -cavalry. There were also small scratch groups of foot and horse, and -groups of peasants and landowners that remained unknown. A sacristan -commanded one party which captured several hundred prisoners in the -course of a month; and there was Vasilisa, the wife of a village -elder, who slew hundreds of the French. - -The partisan warfare flamed up most fiercely in the latter days of -October. Its first period had passed: when the partisans themselves, -amazed at their own boldness, feared every minute to be surrounded and -captured by the French, and hid in the forests without unsaddling, -hardly daring to dismount and always expecting to be pursued. By the -end of October this kind of warfare had taken definite shape: it had -become clear to all what could be ventured against the French and what -could not. Now only the commanders of detachments with staffs, and -moving according to rules at a distance from the French, still -regarded many things as impossible. The small bands that had started -their activities long before and had already observed the French -closely considered things possible which the commanders of the big -detachments did not dare to contemplate. The Cossacks and peasants who -crept in among the French now considered everything possible. - -On October 22, Denisov (who was one of the irregulars) was with -his group at the height of the guerrilla enthusiasm. Since early -morning he and his party had been on the move. All day long he had -been watching from the forest that skirted the highroad a large French -convoy of cavalry baggage and Russian prisoners separated from the -rest of the army, which- as was learned from spies and prisoners- -was moving under a strong escort to Smolensk. Besides Denisov and -Dolokhov (who also led a small party and moved in Denisov's vicinity), -the commanders of some large divisions with staffs also knew of this -convoy and, as Denisov expressed it, were sharpening their teeth for -it. Two of the commanders of large parties- one a Pole and the other a -German- sent invitations to Denisov almost simultaneously, -requesting him to join up with their divisions to attack the convoy. - -"No, bwother, I have gwown mustaches myself," said Denisov on -reading these documents, and he wrote to the German that, despite -his heartfelt desire to serve under so valiant and renowned a general, -he had to forgo that pleasure because he was already under the command -of the Polish general. To the Polish general he replied to the same -effect, informing him that he was already under the command of the -German. - -Having arranged matters thus, Denisov and Dolokhov intended, without -reporting matters to the higher command, to attack and seize that -convoy with their own small forces. On October 22 it was moving from -the village of Mikulino to that of Shamshevo. To the left of the -road between Mikulino and Shamshevo there were large forests, -extending in some places up to the road itself though in others a mile -or more back from it. Through these forests Denisov and his party rode -all day, sometimes keeping well back in them and sometimes coming to -the very edge, but never losing sight of the moving French. That -morning, Cossacks of Denisov's party had seized and carried off into -the forest two wagons loaded with cavalry saddles, which had stuck -in the mud not far from Mikulino where the forest ran close to the -road. Since then, and until evening, the party had the movements of -the French without attacking. It was necessary to let the French reach -Shamshevo quietly without alarming them and then, after joining -Dolokhov who was to come that evening to a consultation at a -watchman's hut in the forest less than a mile from Shamshevo, to -surprise the French at dawn, falling like an avalanche on their -heads from two sides, and rout and capture them all at one blow. - -In their rear, more than a mile from Mikulino where the forest -came right up to the road, six Cossacks were posted to report if any -fresh columns of French should show themselves. - -Beyond Shamshevo, Dolokhov was to observe the road in the same -way, to find out at what distance there were other French troops. They -reckoned that the convoy had fifteen hundred men. Denisov had two -hundred, and Dolokhov might have as many more, but the disparity of -numbers did not deter Denisov. All that he now wanted to know was what -troops these were and to learn that he had to capture a "tongue"- that -is, a man from the enemy column. That morning's attack on the wagons -had been made so hastily that the Frenchmen with the wagons had all -been killed; only a little drummer boy had been taken alive, and as he -was a straggler he could tell them nothing definite about the troops -in that column. - -Denisov considered it dangerous to make a second attack for fear -of putting the whole column on the alert, so he sent Tikhon -Shcherbaty, a peasant of his party, to Shamshevo to try and seize at -least one of the French quartermasters who had been sent on in -advance. - -CHAPTER IV - -It was a warm rainy autumn day. The sky and the horizon were both -the color of muddy water. At times a sort of mist descended, and -then suddenly heavy slanting rain came down. - -Denisov in a felt cloak and a sheepskin cap from which the rain -ran down was riding a thin thoroughbred horse with sunken sides. -Like his horse, which turned its head and laid its ears back, he -shrank from the driving rain and gazed anxiously before him. His -thin face with its short, thick black beard looked angry. - -Beside Denisov rode an esaul,~{ A captain of Cossacks. }~ Denisov's fellow worker, also in felt -cloak and sheepskin cap, and riding a large sleek Don horse. - -Esaul Lovayski the Third was a tall man as straight as an arrow, -pale-faced, fair-haired, with narrow light eyes and with calm -self-satisfaction in his face and bearing. Though it was impossible to -say in what the peculiarity of the horse and rider lay, yet at first -glance at the esaul and Denisov one saw that the latter was wet and -uncomfortable and was a man mounted on a horse, while looking at the -esaul one saw that he was as comfortable and as much at ease as always -and that he was not a man who had mounted a horse, but a man who was -one with his horse, a being consequently possessed of twofold -strength. - -A little ahead of them walked a peasant guide, wet to the skin and -wearing a gray peasant coat and a white knitted cap. - -A little behind, on a poor, small, lean Kirghiz mount with an -enormous tail and mane and a bleeding mouth, rode a young officer in a -blue French overcoat. - -Beside him rode an hussar, with a boy in a tattered French uniform -and blue cap behind him on the crupper of his horse. The boy held on -to the hussar with cold, red hands, and raising his eyebrows gazed -about him with surprise. This was the French drummer boy captured that -morning. - -Behind them along the narrow, sodden, cutup forest road came hussars -in threes and fours, and then Cossacks: some in felt cloaks, some in -French greatcoats, and some with horsecloths over their heads. The -horses, being drenched by the rain, all looked black whether -chestnut or bay. Their necks, with their wet, close-clinging manes, -looked strangely thin. Steam rose from them. Clothes, saddles, -reins, were all wet, slippery, and sodden, like the ground and the -fallen leaves that strewed the road. The men sat huddled up trying not -to stir, so as to warm the water that had trickled to their bodies and -not admit the fresh cold water that was leaking in under their -seats, their knees, and at the back of their necks. In the midst of -the outspread line of Cossacks two wagons, drawn by French horses -and by saddled Cossack horses that had been hitched on in front, -rumbled over the tree stumps and branches and splashed through the -water that lay in the ruts. - -Denisov's horse swerved aside to avoid a pool in the track and -bumped his rider's knee against a tree. - -"Oh, the devil!" exclaimed Denisov angrily, and showing his teeth he -struck his horse three times with his whip, splashing himself and -his comrades with mud. - -Denisov was out of sorts both because of the rain and also from -hunger (none of them had eaten anything since morning), and yet more -because he still had no news from Dolokhov and the man sent to capture -a "tongue" had not returned. - -"There'll hardly be another such chance to fall on a transport as -today. It's too risky to attack them by oneself, and if we put it -off till another day one of the big guerrilla detachments will -snatch the prey from under our noses," thought Denisov, continually -peering forward, hoping to see a messenger from Dolokhov. - -On coming to a path in the forest along which he could see far to -the right, Denisov stopped. - -"There's someone coming," said he. - -The esaul looked in the direction Denisov indicated. - -"There are two, an officer and a Cossack. But it is not -presupposable that it is the lieutenant colonel himself," said the -esaul, who was fond of using words the Cossacks did not know. - -The approaching riders having descended a decline were no longer -visible, but they reappeared a few minutes later. In front, at a weary -gallop and using his leather whip, rode an officer, disheveled and -drenched, whose trousers had worked up to above his knees. Behind him, -standing in the stirrups, trotted a Cossack. The officer, a very young -lad with a broad rosy face and keen merry eyes, galloped up to Denisov -and handed him a sodden envelope. - -"From the general," said the officer. "Please excuse its not being -quite dry." - -Denisov, frowning, took the envelope and opened it. - -"There, they kept telling us: 'It's dangerous, it's dangerous,'" -said the officer, addressing the esaul while Denisov was reading the -dispatch. "But Komarov and I"- he pointed to the Cossack- "were -prepared. We have each of us two pistols.... But what's this?" he -asked, noticing the French drummer boy. "A prisoner? You've already -been in action? May I speak to him?" - -"Wostov! Petya!" exclaimed Denisov, having run through the dispatch. -"Why didn't you say who you were?" and turning with a smile he held -out his hand to the lad. - -The officer was Petya Rostov. - -All the way Petya had been preparing himself to behave with -Denisov as befitted a grownup man and an officer- without hinting at -their previous acquaintance. But as soon as Denisov smiled at him -Petya brightened up, blushed with pleasure, forgot the official manner -he had been rehearsing, and began telling him how he had already -been in a battle near Vyazma and how a certain hussar had -distinguished himself there. - -"Well, I am glad to see you," Denisov interrupted him, and his -face again assumed its anxious expression. - -"Michael Feoklitych," said he to the esaul, "this is again fwom that -German, you know. He"- he indicated Petya- "is serving under him." - -And Denisov told the esaul that the dispatch just delivered was a -repetition of the German general's demand that he should join forces -with him for an attack on the transport. - -"If we don't take it tomowwow, he'll snatch it fwom under our -noses," he added. - -While Denisov was talking to the esaul, Petya- abashed by -Denisov's cold tone and supposing that it was due to the condition -of his trousers- furtively tried to pull them down under his greatcoat -so that no one should notice it, while maintaining as martial an air -as possible. - -"Will there be any orders, your honor?" he asked Denisov, holding -his hand at the salute and resuming the game of adjutant and general -for which he had prepared himself, "or shall I remain with your -honor?" - -"Orders?" Denisov repeated thoughtfully. "But can you stay till -tomowwow?" - -"Oh, please... May I stay with you?" cried Petya. - -"But, just what did the genewal tell you? To weturn at once?" -asked Denisov. - -Petya blushed. - -"He gave me no instructions. I think I could?" he returned, -inquiringly. - -"Well, all wight," said Denisov. - -And turning to his men he directed a party to go on to the halting -place arranged near the watchman's hut in the forest, and told the -officer on the Kirghiz horse (who performed the duties of an adjutant) -to go and find out where Dolokhov was and whether he would come that -evening. Denisov himself intended going with the esaul and Petya to -the edge of the forest where it reached out to Shamshevo, to have a -look at the part of the French bivouac they were to attack next day. - -"Well, old fellow," said he to the peasant guide, "lead us to -Shamshevo." - -Denisov, Petya, and the esaul, accompanied by some Cossacks and -the hussar who had the prisoner, rode to the left across a ravine to -the edge of the forest. - -CHAPTER V - -The rain had stopped, and only the mist was falling and drops from -the trees. Denisov, the esaul, and Petya rode silently, following -the peasant in the knitted cap who, stepping lightly with outturned -toes and moving noiselessly in his bast shoes over the roots and wet -leaves, silently led them to the edge of the forest. - -He ascended an incline, stopped, looked about him, and advanced to -where the screen of trees was less dense. On reaching a large oak tree -that had not yet shed its leaves, he stopped and beckoned mysteriously -to them with his hand. - -Denisov and Petya rode up to him. From the spot where the peasant -was standing they could see the French. Immediately beyond the forest, -on a downward slope, lay a field of spring rye. To the right, beyond a -steep ravine, was a small village and a landowner's house with a -broken roof. In the village, in the house, in the garden, by the well, -by the pond, over all the rising ground, and all along the road uphill -from the bridge leading to the village, not more than five hundred -yards away, crowds of men could be seen through the shimmering mist. -Their un-Russian shouting at their horses which were straining -uphill with the carts, and their calls to one another, could be -clearly heard. - -"Bwing the prisoner here," said Denisov in a low voice, not taking -his eyes off the French. - -A Cossack dismounted, lifted the boy down, and took him to -Denisov. Pointing to the French troops, Denisov asked him what these -and those of them were. The boy, thrusting his cold hands into his -pockets and lifting his eyebrows, looked at Denisov in affright, but -in spite of an evident desire to say all he knew gave confused -answers, merely assenting to everything Denisov asked him. Denisov -turned away from him frowning and addressed the esaul, conveying his -own conjectures to him. - -Petya, rapidly turning his head, looked now at the drummer boy, -now at Denisov, now at the esaul, and now at the French in the village -and along the road, trying not to miss anything of importance. - -"Whether Dolokhov comes or not, we must seize it, eh?" said -Denisov with a merry sparkle in his eyes. - -"It is a very suitable spot," said the esaul. - -"We'll send the infantwy down by the swamps," Denisov continued. -"They'll cweep up to the garden; you'll wide up fwom there with the -Cossacks"- he pointed to a spot in the forest beyond the village- "and -I with my hussars fwom here. And at the signal shot..." - -"The hollow is impassable- there's a swamp there," said the esaul. -"The horses would sink. We must ride round more to the left...." - -While they were talking in undertones the crack of a shot sounded -from the low ground by the pond, a puff of white smoke appeared, -then another, and the sound of hundreds of seemingly merry French -voices shouting together came up from the slope. For a moment -Denisov and the esaul drew back. They were so near that they thought -they were the cause of the firing and shouting. But the firing and -shouting did not relate to them. Down below, a man wearing something -red was running through the marsh. The French were evidently firing -and shouting at him. - -"Why, that's our Tikhon," said the esaul. - -"So it is! It is!" - -"The wascal!" said Denisov. - -"He'll get away!" said the esaul, screwing up his eyes. - -The man whom they called Tikhon, having run to the stream, plunged -in so that the water splashed in the air, and, having disappeared -for an instant, scrambled out on all fours, all black with the wet, -and ran on. The French who had been pursuing him stopped. - -"Smart, that!" said the esaul. - -"What a beast!" said Denisov with his former look of vexation. "What -has he been doing all this time?" - -"Who is he?" asked Petya. - -"He's our plastun. I sent him to capture a 'tongue.'" - -"Oh, yes," said Petya, nodding at the first words Denisov uttered as -if he understood it all, though he really did not understand -anything of it. - -Tikhon Shcherbaty was one of the most indispensable men in their -band. He was a peasant from Pokrovsk, near the river Gzhat. When -Denisov had come to Pokrovsk at the beginning of his operations and -had as usual summoned the village elder and asked him what he knew -about the French, the elder, as though shielding himself, had replied, -as all village elders did, that he had neither seen nor heard anything -of them. But when Denisov explained that his purpose was to kill the -French, and asked if no French had strayed that way, the elder replied -that some "more-orderers" had really been at their village, but that -Tikhon Shcherbaty was the only man who dealt with such matters. -Denisov had Tikhon called and, having praised him for his activity, -said a few words in the elder's presence about loyalty to the Tsar and -the country and the hatred of the French that all sons of the -fatherland should cherish. - -"We don't do the French any harm," said Tikhon, evidently frightened -by Denisov's words. "We only fooled about with the lads for fun, you -know! We killed a score or so of 'more-orderers,' but we did no harm -else..." - -Next day when Denisov had left Pokrovsk, having quite forgotten -about this peasant, it was reported to him that Tikhon had attached -himself to their party and asked to be allowed to remain with it. -Denisov gave orders to let him do so. - -Tikhon, who at first did rough work, laying campfires, fetching -water, flaying dead horses, and so on, soon showed a great liking -and aptitude for partisan warfare. At night he would go out for -booty and always brought back French clothing and weapons, and when -told to would bring in French captives also. Denisov then relieved him -from drudgery and began taking him with him when he went out on -expeditions and had him enrolled among the Cossacks. - -Tikhon did not like riding, and always went on foot, never lagging -behind the cavalry. He was armed with a musketoon (which he carried -rather as a joke), a pike and an ax, which latter he used as a wolf -uses its teeth, with equal case picking fleas out of its fur or -crunching thick bones. Tikhon with equal accuracy would split logs -with blows at arm's length, or holding the head of the ax would cut -thin little pegs or carve spoons. In Denisov's party he held a -peculiar and exceptional position. When anything particularly -difficult or nasty had to be done- to push a cart out of the mud -with one's shoulders, pull a horse out of a swamp by its tail, skin -it, slink in among the French, or walk more than thirty miles in a -day- everybody pointed laughingly at Tikhon. - -"It won't hurt that devil- he's as strong as a horse!" they said -of him. - -Once a Frenchman Tikhon was trying to capture fired a pistol at -him and shot him in the fleshy part of the back. That wound (which -Tikhon treated only with internal and external applications of -vodka) was the subject of the liveliest jokes by the whole detachment- -jokes in which Tikhon readily joined. - -"Hallo, mate! Never again? Gave you a twist?" the Cossacks would -banter him. And Tikhon, purposely writhing and making faces, pretended -to be angry and swore at the French with the funniest curses. The only -effect of this incident on Tikhon was that after being wounded he -seldom brought in prisoners. - -He was the bravest and most useful man in the party. No one found -more opportunities for attacking, no one captured or killed more -Frenchmen, and consequently he was made the buffoon of all the -Cossacks and hussars and willingly accepted that role. Now he had been -sent by Denisov overnight to Shamshevo to capture a "tongue." But -whether because he had not been content to take only one Frenchman -or because he had slept through the night, he had crept by day into -some bushes right among the French and, as Denisov had witnessed -from above, had been detected by them. - -CHAPTER VI - -After talking for some time with the esaul about next day's -attack, which now, seeing how near they were to the French, he -seemed to have definitely decided on, Denisov turned his horse and -rode back. - -"Now, my lad, we'll go and get dwy," he said to Petya. - -As they approached the watchhouse Denisov stopped, peering into -the forest. Among the trees a man with long legs and long, swinging -arms, wearing a short jacket, bast shoes, and a Kazan hat, was -approaching with long, light steps. He had a musketoon over his -shoulder and an ax stuck in his girdle. When he espied Denisov he -hastily threw something into the bushes, removed his sodden hat by its -floppy brim, and approached his commander. It was Tikhon. His wrinkled -and pockmarked face and narrow little eyes beamed with -self-satisfied merriment. He lifted his head high and gazed at Denisov -as if repressing a laugh. - -"Well, where did you disappear to?" inquired Denisov. - -"Where did I disappear to? I went to get Frenchmen," answered Tikhon -boldly and hurriedly, in a husky but melodious bass voice. - -"Why did you push yourself in there by daylight? You ass! Well, -why haven't you taken one?" - -"Oh, I took one all right," said Tikhon. - -"Where is he?" - -"You see, I took him first thing at dawn," Tikhon continued, -spreading out his flat feet with outturned toes in their bast shoes. -"I took him into the forest. Then I see he's no good and think I'll go -and fetch a likelier one." - -"You see?... What a wogue- it's just as I thought," said Denisov -to the esaul. "Why didn't you bwing that one?" - -"What was the good of bringing him?" Tikhon interrupted hastily -and angrily- "that one wouldn't have done for you. As if I don't -know what sort you want!" - -"What a bwute you are!... Well?" - -"I went for another one," Tikhon continued, "and I crept like this -through the wood and lay down." (He suddenly lay down on his stomach -with a supple movement to show how he had done it.) "One turned up and -I grabbed him, like this." (He jumped up quickly and lightly.) -"'Come along to the colonel,' I said. He starts yelling, and -suddenly there were four of them. They rushed at me with their -little swords. So I went for them with my ax, this way: 'What are -you up to?' says I. 'Christ be with you!'" shouted Tikhon, waving -his arms with an angry scowl and throwing out his chest. - -"Yes, we saw from the hill how you took to your heels through the -puddles!" said the esaul, screwing up his glittering eyes. - -Petya badly wanted to laugh, but noticed that they all refrained -from laughing. He turned his eyes rapidly from Tikhon's face to the -esaul's and Denisov's, unable to make out what it all meant. - -"Don't play the fool!" said Denisov, coughing angrily. "Why didn't -you bwing the first one?" - -Tikhon scratched his back with one hand and his head with the other, -then suddenly his whole face expanded into a beaming, foolish grin, -disclosing a gap where he had lost a tooth (that was why he was called -Shcherbaty- the gap-toothed). Denisov smiled, and Petya burst into a -peal of merry laughter in which Tikhon himself joined. - -"Oh, but he was a regular good-for-nothing," said Tikhon. "The -clothes on him- poor stuff! How could I bring him? And so rude, your -honor! Why, he says: 'I'm a general's son myself, I won't go!' he -says." - -"You are a bwute!" said Denisov. "I wanted to question..." - -"But I questioned him," said Tikhon. "He said he didn't know much. -'There are a lot of us,' he says, 'but all poor stuff- only soldiers -in name,' he says. 'Shout loud at them,' he says, 'and you'll take -them all,'" Tikhon concluded, looking cheerfully and resolutely into -Denisov's eyes. - -"I'll give you a hundwed sharp lashes- that'll teach you to play the -fool!" said Denisov severely. - -"But why are you angry?" remonstrated Tikhon, "just as if I'd -never seen your Frenchmen! Only wait till it gets dark and I'll -fetch you any of them you want- three if you like." - -"Well, let's go," said Denisov, and rode all the way to the -watchhouse in silence and frowning angrily. - -Tikhon followed behind and Petya heard the Cossacks laughing with -him and at him, about some pair of boots he had thrown into the -bushes. - -When the fit of laughter that had seized him at Tikhon's words and -smile had passed and Petya realized for a moment that this Tikhon -had killed a man, he felt uneasy. He looked round at the captive -drummer boy and felt a pang in his heart. But this uneasiness lasted -only a moment. He felt it necessary to hold his head higher, to -brace himself, and to question the esaul with an air of importance -about tomorrow's undertaking, that he might not be unworthy of the -company in which he found himself. - -The officer who had been sent to inquire met Denisov on the way with -the news that Dolokhov was soon coming and that all was well with him. - -Denisov at once cheered up and, calling Petya to him, said: "Well, -tell me about yourself." - -CHAPTER VII - -Petya, having left his people after their departure from Moscow, -joined his regiment and was soon taken as orderly by a general -commanding a large guerrilla detachment. From the time he received his -commission, and especially since he had joined the active army and -taken part in the battle of Vyazma, Petya had been in a constant state -of blissful excitement at being grown-up and in a perpetual ecstatic -hurry not to miss any chance to do something really heroic. He was -highly delighted with what he saw and experienced in the army, but -at the same time it always seemed to him that the really heroic -exploits were being performed just where he did not happen to be. -And he was always in a hurry to get where he was not. - -When on the twenty-first of October his general expressed a wish -to send somebody to Denisov's detachment, Petya begged so piteously to -be sent that the general could not refuse. But when dispatching him he -recalled Petya's mad action at the battle of Vyazma, where instead -of riding by the road to the place to which he had been sent, he had -galloped to the advanced line under the fire of the French and had -there twice fired his pistol. So now the general explicitly forbade -his taking part in any action whatever of Denisov's. That was why -Petya had blushed and grown confused when Denisov asked him whether he -could stay. Before they had ridden to the outskirts of the forest -Petya had considered he must carry out his instructions strictly and -return at once. But when he saw the French and saw Tikhon and -learned that there would certainly be an attack that night, he -decided, with the rapidity with which young people change their views, -that the general, whom he had greatly respected till then, was a -rubbishy German, that Denisov was a hero, the esaul a hero, and Tikhon -a hero too, and that it would be shameful for him to leave them at a -moment of difficulty. - -It was already growing dusk when Denisov, Petya, and the esaul -rode up to the watchhouse. In the twilight saddled horses could be -seen, and Cossacks and hussars who had rigged up rough shelters in the -glade and were kindling glowing fires in a hollow of the forest -where the French could not see the smoke. In the passage of the -small watchhouse a Cossack with sleeves rolled up was chopping some -mutton. In the room three officers of Denisov's band were converting a -door into a tabletop. Petya took off his wet clothes, gave them to -be dried, and at once began helping the officers to fix up the -dinner table. - -In ten minutes the table was ready and a napkin spread on it. On the -table were vodka, a flask of rum, white bread, roast mutton, and salt. - -Sitting at table with the officers and tearing the fat savory mutton -with his hands, down which the grease trickled, Petya was in an -ecstatic childish state of love for all men, and consequently of -confidence that others loved him in the same way. - -"So then what do you think, Vasili Dmitrich?" said he to Denisov. -"It's all right my staying a day with you?" And not waiting for a -reply he answered his own question: "You see I was told to find out- -well, I am finding out.... Only do let me into the very... into the -chief... I don't want a reward... But I want..." - -Petya clenched his teeth and looked around, throwing back his head -and flourishing his arms. - -"Into the vewy chief..." Denisov repeated with a smile. - -"Only, please let me command something, so that I may really -command..." Petya went on. "What would it be to you?... Oh, you want a -knife?" he said, turning to an officer who wished to cut himself a -piece of mutton. - -And he handed him his clasp knife. The officer admired it. - -"Please keep it. I have several like it," said Petya, blushing. -"Heavens! I was quite forgetting!" he suddenly cried. "I have some -raisins, fine ones; you know, seedless ones. We have a new sutler -and he has such capital things. I bought ten pounds. I am used to -something sweet. Would you like some?..." and Petya ran out into the -passage to his Cossack and brought back some bags which contained -about five pounds of raisins. "Have some, gentlemen, have some!" - -"You want a coffeepot, don't you?" he asked the esaul. "I bought a -capital one from our sutler! He has splendid things. And he's very -honest, that's the chief thing. I'll be sure to send it to you. Or -perhaps your flints are giving out, or are worn out- that happens -sometimes, you know. I have brought some with me, here they are"- -and he showed a bag- "a hundred flints. I bought them very cheap. -Please take as many as you want, or all if you like...." - -Then suddenly, dismayed lest he had said too much, Petya stopped and -blushed. - -He tried to remember whether he had not done anything else that -was foolish. And running over the events of the day he remembered -the French drummer boy. "It's capital for us here, but what of him? -Where have they put him? Have they fed him? Haven't they hurt his -feelings?" he thought. But having caught himself saying too much about -the flints, he was now afraid to speak out. - -"I might ask," he thought, "but they'll say: 'He's a boy himself and -so he pities the boy.' I'll show them tomorrow whether I'm a boy. Will -it seem odd if I ask?" Petya thought. "Well, never mind!" and -immediately, blushing and looking anxiously at the officers to see -if they appeared ironical, he said: - -"May I call in that boy who was taken prisoner and give him -something to eat?... Perhaps..." - -"Yes, he's a poor little fellow," said Denisov, who evidently saw -nothing shameful in this reminder. "Call him in. His name is Vincent -Bosse. Have him fetched." - -"I'll call him," said Petya. - -"Yes, yes, call him. A poor little fellow," Denisov repeated. - -Petya was standing at the door when Denisov said this. He slipped in -between the officers, came close to Denisov, and said: - -"Let me kiss you, dear old fellow! Oh, how fine, how splendid!" - -And having kissed Denisov he ran out of the hut. - -"Bosse! Vincent!" Petya cried, stopping outside the door. - -"Who do you want, sir?" asked a voice in the darkness. - -Petya replied that he wanted the French lad who had been captured -that day. - -"Ah, Vesenny?" said a Cossack. - -Vincent, the boy's name, had already been changed by the Cossacks -into Vesenny (vernal) and into Vesenya by the peasants and soldiers. -In both these adaptations the reference to spring (vesna) matched -the impression made by the young lad. - -"He is warming himself there by the bonfire. Ho, Vesenya! -Vesenya!- Vesenny!" laughing voices were heard calling to one -another in the darkness. - -"He's a smart lad," said an hussar standing near Petya. "We gave him -something to eat a while ago. He was awfully hungry!" - -The sound of bare feet splashing through the mud was heard in the -darkness, and the drummer boy came to the door. - -"Ah, c'est vous!" said Petya. "Voulez-vous manger? N'ayez pas -peur, on ne vous fera pas de mal,"~{ "Ah, it's you! Do you want something to eat? Don't be afraid, -they won't hurt you." }~ he added shyly and affectionately, -touching the boy's hand. "Entrez, entrez."~{ "Come in, come in." }~ - -"Merci, monsieur,"~{ "Thank you, sir." }~ said the drummer boy in a trembling almost -childish voice, and he began scraping his dirty feet on the threshold. - -There were many things Petya wanted to say to the drummer boy, but -did not dare to. He stood irresolutely beside him in the passage. Then -in the darkness he took the boy's hand and pressed it. - -"Come in, come in!" he repeated in a gentle whisper. "Oh, what can I -do for him?" he thought, and opening the door he let the boy pass in -first. - -When the boy had entered the hut, Petya sat down at a distance -from him, considering it beneath his dignity to pay attention to -him. But he fingered the money in his pocket and wondered whether it -would seem ridiculous to give some to the drummer boy. - -CHAPTER VIII - -The arrival of Dolokhov diverted Petya's attention from the -drummer boy, to whom Denisov had had some mutton and vodka given, -and whom he had had dressed in a Russian coat so that he might be kept -with their band and not sent away with the other prisoners. Petya -had heard in the army many stories of Dolokhov's extraordinary bravery -and of his cruelty to the French, so from the moment he entered the -hut Petya did not take his eyes from him, but braced himself up more -and more and held his head high, that he might not be unworthy even of -such company. - -Dolokhov's appearance amazed Petya by its simplicity. - -Denisov wore a Cossack coat, had a beard, had an icon of Nicholas -the Wonder-Worker on his breast, and his way of speaking and -everything he did indicated his unusual position. But Dolokhov, who in -Moscow had worn a Persian costume, had now the appearance of a most -correct officer of the Guards. He was clean-shaven and wore a -Guardsman's padded coat with an Order of St. George at his -buttonhole and a plain forage cap set straight on his head. He took -off his wet felt cloak in a corner of the room, and without greeting -anyone went up to Denisov and began questioning him about the matter -in hand. Denisov told him of the designs the large detachments had -on the transport, of the message Petya had brought, and his own -replies to both generals. Then he told him all he knew of the French -detachment. - -"That's so. But we must know what troops they are and their -numbers," said Dolokhov. "It will be necessary to go there. We can't -start the affair without knowing for certain how many there are. I -like to work accurately. Here now- wouldn't one of these gentlemen -like to ride over to the French camp with me? I have brought a spare -uniform." - -"I, I... I'll go with you!" cried Petya. - -"There's no need for you to go at all," said Denisov, addressing -Dolokhov, "and as for him, I won't let him go on any account." - -"I like that!" exclaimed Petya. "Why shouldn't I go?" - -"Because it's useless." - -"Well, you must excuse me, because... because... I shall go, and -that's all. You'll take me, won't you?" he said, turning to Dolokhov. - -"Why not?" Dolokhov answered absently, scrutinizing the face of -the French drummer boy. "Have you had that youngster with you long?" -he asked Denisov. - -"He was taken today but he knows nothing. I'm keeping him with me." - -"Yes, and where do you put the others?" inquired Dolokhov. - -"Where? I send them away and take a weceipt for them," shouted -Denisov, suddenly flushing. "And I say boldly that I have not a single -man's life on my conscience. Would it be difficult for you to send -thirty or thwee hundwed men to town under escort, instead of staining- -I speak bluntly- staining the honor of a soldier?" - -"That kind of amiable talk would be suitable from this young count -of sixteen," said Dolokhov with cold irony, "but it's time for you -to drop it." - -"Why, I've not said anything! I only say that I'll certainly go with -you," said Petya shyly. - -"But for you and me, old fellow, it's time to drop these amenities," -continued Dolokhov, as if he found particular pleasure in speaking -of this subject which irritated Denisov. "Now, why have you kept -this lad?" he went on, swaying his head. "Because you are sorry for -him! Don't we know those 'receipts' of yours? You send a hundred men -away, and thirty get there. The rest either starve or get killed. So -isn't it all the same not to send them?" - -The esaul, screwing up his light-colored eyes, nodded approvingly. - -"That's not the point. I'm not going to discuss the matter. I do not -wish to take it on my conscience. You say they'll die. All wight. Only -not by my fault!" - -Dolokhov began laughing. - -"Who has told them not to capture me these twenty times over? But if -they did catch me they'd string me up to an aspen tree, and with all -your chivalry just the same." He paused. "However, we must get to -work. Tell the Cossack to fetch my kit. I have two French uniforms -in it. Well, are you coming with me?" he asked Petya. - -"I? Yes, yes, certainly!" cried Petya, blushing almost to tears -and glancing at Denisov. - -While Dolokhov had been disputing with Denisov what should be done -with prisoners, Petya had once more felt awkward and restless; but -again he had no time to grasp fully what they were talking about. -"If grown-up, distinguished men think so, it must be necessary and -right," thought he. "But above all Denisov must not dare to imagine -that I'll obey him and that he can order me about. I will certainly go -to the French camp with Dolokhov. If he can, so can I!" - -And to all Denisov's persuasions, Petya replied that he too was -accustomed to do everything accurately and not just anyhow, and that -he never considered personal danger. - -"For you'll admit that if we don't know for sure how many of them -there are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are -only two of us. Besides, I want to go very much and certainly will go, -so don't hinder me," said he. "It will only make things worse..." - -CHAPTER IX - -Having put on French greatcoats and shakos, Petya and Dolokhov -rode to the clearing from which Denisov had reconnoitered the French -camp, and emerging from the forest in pitch darkness they descended -into the hollow. On reaching the bottom, Dolokhov told the Cossacks -accompanying him to await him there and rode on at a quick trot -along the road to the bridge. Petya, his heart in his mouth with -excitement, rode by his side. - -"If we're caught, I won't be taken alive! I have a pistol," -whispered he. - -"Don't talk Russian," said Dolokhov in a hurried whisper, and at -that very moment they heard through the darkness the challenge: "Qui -vive?"~{ "Who goes there?" }~ and the click of a musket. - -The blood rushed to Petya's face and he grasped his pistol. - -"Lanciers du 6-me,"~{ "Lancers of the 6th Regiment." }~ replied Dolokhov, neither hastening nor -slackening his horse's pace. - -The black figure of a sentinel stood on the bridge. - -"Mot d'ordre."~{ "Password." }~ - -Dolokhov reined in his horse and advanced at a walk. - -"Dites donc, le colonel Gerard est ici?"~{ "Tell me, is Colonel Gerard here?" }~ he asked. - -"Mot d'ordre," repeated the sentinel, barring the way and not -replying. - -"Quand un officier fait sa ronde, les sentinelles ne demandent pas -le mot d'ordre..." cried Dolokhov suddenly flaring up and riding -straight at the sentinel. "Je vous demande si le colonel est ici."~{ "When an officer is making his round, sentinels don't ask him for -the password.... I am asking you if the colonel is here." }~ - -And without waiting for an answer from the sentinel, who had stepped -aside, Dolokhov rode up the incline at a walk. - -Noticing the black outline of a man crossing the road, Dolokhov -stopped him and inquired where the commander and officers were. The -man, a soldier with a sack over his shoulder, stopped, came close up -to Dolokhov's horse, touched it with his hand, and explained simply -and in a friendly way that the commander and the officers were -higher up the hill to the right in the courtyard of the farm, as he -called the landowner's house. - -Having ridden up the road, on both sides of which French talk -could be heard around the campfires, Dolokhov turned into the -courtyard of the landowner's house. Having ridden in, he dismounted -and approached a big blazing campfire, around which sat several men -talking noisily. Something was boiling in a small cauldron at the edge -of the fire and a soldier in a peaked cap and blue overcoat, lit up by -the fire, was kneeling beside it stirring its contents with a ramrod. - -"Oh, he's a hard nut to crack," said one of the officers who was -sitting in the shadow at the other side of the fire. - -"He'll make them get a move on, those fellows!" said another, -laughing. - -Both fell silent, peering out through the darkness at the sound of -Dolokhov's and Petya's steps as they advanced to the fire leading -their horses. - -"Bonjour, messieurs!"~{ "Good day, gentlemen." }~ said Dolokhov loudly and clearly. - -There was a stir among the officers in the shadow beyond the fire, -and one tall, long-necked officer, walking round the fire, came up -to Dolokhov. - -"Is that you, Clement?" he asked. "Where the devil...? But, noticing -his mistake, he broke off short and, with a frown, greeted Dolokhov as -a stranger, asking what he could do for him. - -Dolokhov said that he and his companion were trying to overtake -their regiment, and addressing the company in general asked whether -they knew anything of the 6th Regiment. None of them knew anything, -and Petya thought the officers were beginning to look at him and -Dolokhov with hostility and suspicion. For some seconds all were -silent. - -"If you were counting on the evening soup, you have come too -late," said a voice from behind the fire with a repressed laugh. - -Dolokhov replied that they were not hungry and must push on -farther that night. - -He handed the horses over to the soldier who was stirring the pot -and squatted down on his heels by the fire beside the officer with the -long neck. That officer did not take his eyes from Dolokhov and -again asked to what regiment he belonged. Dolokhov, as if he had not -heard the question, did not reply, but lighting a short French pipe -which he took from his pocket began asking the officer in how far -the road before them was safe from Cossacks. - -"Those brigands are everywhere," replied an officer from behind -the fire. - -Dolokhov remarked that the Cossacks were a danger only to stragglers -such as his companion and himself, "but probably they would not dare -to attack large detachments?" he added inquiringly. No one replied. - -"Well, now he'll come away," Petya thought every moment as he -stood by the campfire listening to the talk. - -But Dolokhov restarted the conversation which had dropped and -began putting direct questions as to how many men there were in the -battalion, how many battalions, and how many prisoners. Asking about -the Russian prisoners with that detachment, Dolokhov said: - -"A horrid business dragging these corpses about with one! It would -be better to shoot such rabble," and burst into loud laughter, so -strange that Petya thought the French would immediately detect their -disguise, and involuntarily took a step back from the campfire. - -No one replied a word to Dolokhov's laughter, and a French officer -whom they could not see (he lay wrapped in a greatcoat) rose and -whispered something to a companion. Dolokhov got up and called to -the soldier who was holding their horses. - -"Will they bring our horses or not?" thought Petya, instinctively -drawing nearer to Dolokhov. - -The horses were brought. - -"Good evening, gentlemen," said Dolokhov. - -Petya wished to say "Good night" but could not utter a word. The -officers were whispering together. Dolokhov was a long time mounting -his horse which would not stand still, then he rode out of the yard at -a footpace. Petya rode beside him, longing to look round to see -whether or no the French were running after them, but not daring to. - -Coming out onto the road Dolokhov did not ride back across the -open country, but through the village. At one spot he stopped and -listened. "Do you hear?" he asked. Petya recognized the sound of -Russian voices and saw the dark figures of Russian prisoners round -their campfires. When they had descended to the bridge Petya and -Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced -morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the -Cossacks awaited them. - -"Well now, good-by. Tell Denisov, 'at the first shot at -daybreak,'" said Dolokhov and was about to ride away, but Petya seized -hold of him. - -"Really!" he cried, "you are such a hero! Oh, how fine, how -splendid! How I love you!" - -"All right, all right!" said Dolokhov. But Petya did not let go of -him and Dolokhov saw through the gloom that Petya was bending toward -him and wanted to kiss him. Dolokhov kissed him, laughed, turned his -horse, and vanished into the darkness. - -CHAPTER X - -Having returned to the watchman's hut, Petya found Denisov in the -passage. He was awaiting Petya's return in a state of agitation, -anxiety, and self-reproach for having let him go. - -"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Yes, thank God!" he repeated, -listening to Petya's rapturous account. "But, devil take you, I -haven't slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We can -still get a nap before morning." - -"But... no," said Petya, "I don't want to sleep yet. Besides I -know myself, if I fall asleep it's finished. And then I am used to not -sleeping before a battle." - -He sat awhile in the hut joyfully recalling the details of his -expedition and vividly picturing to himself what would happen next -day. - -Then, noticing that Denisov was asleep, he rose and went out of -doors. - -It was still quite dark outside. The rain was over, but drops were -still falling from the trees. Near the watchman's hut the black shapes -of the Cossacks' shanties and of horses tethered together could be -seen. Behind the hut the dark shapes of the two wagons with their -horses beside them were discernible, and in the hollow the dying -campfire gleamed red. Not all the Cossacks and hussars were asleep; -here and there, amid the sounds of falling drops and the munching of -the horses near by, could be heard low voices which seemed to be -whispering. - -Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons. -Someone was snoring under them, and around them stood saddled horses -munching their oats. In the dark Petya recognized his own horse, which -he called "Karabakh" though it was of Ukranian breed, and went up to -it. - -"Well, Karabakh! We'll do some service tomorrow," said he, -sniffing its nostrils and kissing it. - -"Why aren't you asleep, sir?" said a Cossack who was sitting under a -wagon. - -"No, ah... Likhachev- isn't that your name? Do you know I have -only just come back! We've been into the French camp." - -And Petya gave the Cossack a detailed account not only of his ride -but also of his object, and why he considered it better to risk his -life than to act "just anyhow." - -"Well, you should get some sleep now," said the Cossack. - -"No, I am used to this," said Petya. "I say, aren't the flints in -your pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Don't you want any? You -can have some." - -The Cossack bent forward from under the wagon to get a closer look -at Petya. - -"Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately," said -Petya. "Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, and -then they're sorry for it afterwards. I don't like that." - -"Just so," said the Cossack. - -"Oh yes, another thing! Please, my dear fellow, will you sharpen -my saber for me? It's got bl..." (Petya feared to tell a lie, and -the saber never had been sharpened.) "Can you do it?" - -"Of course I can." - -Likhachev got up, rummaged in his pack, and soon Petya heard the -warlike sound of steel on whetstone. He climbed onto the wagon and sat -on its edge. The Cossack was sharpening the saber under the wagon. - -"I say! Are the lads asleep?" asked Petya. - -"Some are, and some aren't- like us." - -"Well, and that boy?" - -"Vesenny? Oh, he's thrown himself down there in the passage. Fast -asleep after his fright. He was that glad!" - -After that Petya remained silent for a long time, listening to the -sounds. He heard footsteps in the darkness and a black figure -appeared. - -"What are you sharpening?" asked a man coming up to the wagon. - -"Why, this gentleman's saber." - -"That's right," said the man, whom Petya took to be an hussar. -"Was the cup left here?" - -"There, by the wheel!" - -The hussar took the cup. - -"It must be daylight soon," said he, yawning, and went away. - -Petya ought to have known that he was in a forest with Denisov's -guerrilla band, less than a mile from the road, sitting on a wagon -captured from the French beside which horses were tethered, that under -it Likhachev was sitting sharpening a saber for him, that the big dark -blotch to the right was the watchman's hut, and the red blotch below -to the left was the dying embers of a campfire, that the man who had -come for the cup was an hussar who wanted a drink; but he neither knew -nor waited to know anything of all this. He was in a fairy kingdom -where nothing resembled reality. The big dark blotch might really be -the watchman's hut or it might be a cavern leading to the very -depths of the earth. Perhaps the red spot was a fire, or it might be -the eye of an enormous monster. Perhaps he was really sitting on a -wagon, but it might very well be that he was not sitting on a wagon -but on a terribly high tower from which, if he fell, he would have -to fall for a whole day or a whole month, or go on falling and never -reach the bottom. Perhaps it was just the Cossack, Likhachev, who -was sitting under the wagon, but it might be the kindest, bravest, -most wonderful, most splendid man in the world, whom no one knew of. -It might really have been that the hussar came for water and went back -into the hollow, but perhaps he had simply vanished- disappeared -altogether and dissolved into nothingness. - -Nothing Petya could have seen now would have surprised him. He was -in a fairy kingdom where everything was possible. - -He looked up at the sky. And the sky was a fairy realm like the -earth. It was clearing, and over the tops of the trees clouds were -swiftly sailing as if unveiling the stars. Sometimes it looked as if -the clouds were passing, and a clear black sky appeared. Sometimes -it seemed as if the black spaces were clouds. Sometimes the sky seemed -to be rising high, high overhead, and then it seemed to sink so low -that one could touch it with one's hand. - -Petya's eyes began to close and he swayed a little. - -The trees were dripping. Quiet talking was heard. The horses neighed -and jostled one another. Someone snored. - -"Ozheg-zheg, Ozheg-zheg..." hissed the saber against the -whetstone, and suddenly Petya heard an harmonious orchestra playing -some unknown, sweetly solemn hymn. Petya was as musical as Natasha and -more so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought about -it, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to him -particularly fresh and attractive. The music became more and more -audible. The melody grew and passed from one instrument to another. -And what was played was a fugue- though Petya had not the least -conception of what a fugue is. Each instrument- now resembling a -violin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn- -played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged with -another instrument that began almost the same air, and then with a -third and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again became -separate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now into -something dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant. - -"Oh- why, that was in a dream!" Petya said to himself, as he lurched -forward. "It's in my ears. But perhaps it's music of my own. Well, -go on, my music! Now!..." - -He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, -sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again -all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn. "Oh, this is -delightful! As much as I like and as I like!" said Petya to himself. -He tried to conduct that enormous orchestra. - -"Now softly, softly die away!" and the sounds obeyed him. "Now -fuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful!" And from an -unknown depth rose increasingly triumphant sounds. "Now voices join -in!" ordered Petya. And at first from afar he heard men's voices and -then women's. The voices grew in harmonious triumphant strength, and -Petya listened to their surpassing beauty in awe and joy. - -With a solemn triumphal march there mingled a song, the drip from -the trees, and the hissing of the saber, "Ozheg-zheg-zheg..." and -again the horses jostled one another and neighed, not disturbing the -choir but joining in it. - -Petya did not know how long this lasted: he enjoyed himself all -the time, wondered at his enjoyment and regretted that there was no -one to share it. He was awakened by Likhachev's kindly voice. - -"It's ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!" - -Petya woke up. - -"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed. - -The horses that had previously been invisible could now be seen to -their very tails, and a watery light showed itself through the bare -branches. Petya shook himself, jumped up, took a ruble from his pocket -and gave it to Likhachev; then he flourished the saber, tested it, and -sheathed it. The Cossacks were untying their horses and tightening -their saddle girths. - -"And here's the commander," said Likhachev. - -Denisov came out of the watchman's hut and, having called Petya, -gave orders to get ready. - -CHAPTER XI - -The men rapidly picked out their horses in the semidarkness, -tightened their saddle girths, and formed companies. Denisov stood -by the watchman's hut giving final orders. The infantry of the -detachment passed along the road and quickly disappeared amid the -trees in the mist of early dawn, hundreds of feet splashing through -the mud. The esaul gave some orders to his men. Petya held his horse -by the bridle, impatiently awaiting the order to mount. His face, -having been bathed in cold water, was all aglow, and his eyes were -particularly brilliant. Cold shivers ran down his spine and his -whole body pulsed rhythmically. - -"Well, is ev'wything weady?" asked Denisov. "Bwing the horses." - -The horses were brought. Denisov was angry with the Cossack -because the saddle girths were too slack, reproved him, and mounted. -Petya put his foot in the stirrup. His horse by habit made as if to -nip his leg, but Petya leaped quickly into the saddle unconscious of -his own weight and, turning to look at the hussars starting in the -darkness behind him, rode up to Denisov. - -"Vasili Dmitrich, entrust me with some commission! Please... for -God's sake...!" said he. - -Denisov seemed to have forgotten Petya's very existence. He turned -to glance at him. - -"I ask one thing of you," he said sternly, "to obey me and not shove -yourself forward anywhere." - -He did not say another word to Petya but rode in silence all the -way. When they had come to the edge of the forest it was noticeably -growing light over the field. Denisov talked in whispers with the -esaul and the Cossacks rode past Petya and Denisov. When they had -all ridden by, Denisov touched his horse and rode down the hill. -Slipping onto their haunches and sliding, the horses descended with -their riders into the ravine. Petya rode beside Denisov, the pulsation -of his body constantly increasing. It was getting lighter and lighter, -but the mist still hid distant objects. Having reached the valley, -Denisov looked back and nodded to a Cossack beside him. - -"The signal!" said he. - -The Cossack raised his arm and a shot rang out. In an instant the -tramp of horses galloping forward was heard, shouts came from -various sides, and then more shots. - -At the first sound of trampling hoofs and shouting, Petya lashed his -horse and loosening his rein galloped forward, not heeding Denisov who -shouted at him. It seemed to Petya that at the moment the shot was -fired it suddenly became as bright as noon. He galloped to the bridge. -Cossacks were galloping along the road in front of him. On the -bridge he collided with a Cossack who had fallen behind, but he -galloped on. In front of him soldiers, probably Frenchmen, were -running from right to left across the road. One of them fell in the -mud under his horse's feet. - -Cossacks were crowding about a hut, busy with something. From the -midst of that crowd terrible screams arose. Petya galloped up, and the -first thing he saw was the pale face and trembling jaw of a Frenchman, -clutching the handle of a lance that had been aimed at him. - -"Hurrah!... Lads!... ours!" shouted Petya, and giving rein to his -excited horse he galloped forward along the village street. - -He could hear shooting ahead of him. Cossacks, hussars, and ragged -Russian prisoners, who had come running from both sides of the road, -were shouting something loudly and incoherently. A gallant-looking -Frenchman, in a blue overcoat, capless, and with a frowning red -face, had been defending himself against the hussars. When Petya -galloped up the Frenchman had already fallen. "Too late again!" -flashed through Petya's mind and he galloped on to the place from -which the rapid firing could be heard. The shots came from the yard of -the landowner's house he had visited the night before with Dolokhov. -The French were making a stand there behind a wattle fence in a garden -thickly overgrown with bushes and were firing at the Cossacks who -crowded at the gateway. Through the smoke, as he approached the -gate, Petya saw Dolokhov, whose face was of a pale-greenish tint, -shouting to his men. "Go round! Wait for the infantry!" he exclaimed -as Petya rode up to him. - -"Wait?... Hurrah-ah-ah!" shouted Petya, and without pausing a moment -galloped to the place whence came the sounds of firing and where the -smoke was thickest. - -A volley was heard, and some bullets whistled past, while others -plashed against something. The Cossacks and Dolokhov galloped after -Petya into the gateway of the courtyard. In the dense wavering smoke -some of the French threw down their arms and ran out of the bushes -to meet the Cossacks, while others ran down the hill toward the -pond. Petya was galloping along the courtyard, but instead of -holding the reins he waved both his arms about rapidly and -strangely, slipping farther and farther to one side in his saddle. His -horse, having galloped up to a campfire that was smoldering in the -morning light, stopped suddenly, and Petya fell heavily on to the -wet ground. The Cossacks saw that his arms and legs jerked rapidly -though his head was quite motionless. A bullet had pierced his skull. - -After speaking to the senior French officer, who came out of the -house with a white handkerchief tied to his sword and announced that -they surrendered, Dolokhov dismounted and went up to Petya, who lay -motionless with outstretched arms. - -"Done for!" he said with a frown, and went to the gate to meet -Denisov who was riding toward him. - -"Killed?" cried Denisov, recognizing from a distance the -unmistakably lifeless attitude- very familiar to him- in which Petya's -body was lying. - -"Done for!" repeated Dolokhov as if the utterance of these words -afforded him pleasure, and he went quickly up to the prisoners, who -were surrounded by Cossacks who had hurried up. "We won't take -them!" he called out to Denisov. - -Denisov did not reply; he rode up to Petya, dismounted, and with -trembling hands turned toward himself the bloodstained, -mud-bespattered face which had already gone white. - -"I am used to something sweet. Raisins, fine ones... take them all!" -he recalled Petya's words. And the Cossacks looked round in surprise -at the sound, like the yelp of a dog, with which Denisov turned -away, walked to the wattle fence, and seized hold of it. - -Among the Russian prisoners rescued by Denisov and Dolokhov was -Pierre Bezukhov. - -CHAPTER XII - -During the whole of their march from Moscow no fresh orders had been -issued by the French authorities concerning the party of prisoners -among whom was Pierre. On the twenty-second of October that party -was no longer with the same troops and baggage trains with which it -had left Moscow. Half the wagons laden with hardtack that had traveled -the first stages with them had been captured by Cossacks, the other -half had gone on ahead. Not one of those dismounted cavalrymen who had -marched in front of the prisoners was left; they had all -disappeared. The artillery the prisoners had seen in front of them -during the first days was now replaced by Marshal Junot's enormous -baggage train, convoyed by Westphalians. Behind the prisoners came a -cavalry baggage train. - -From Vyazma onwards the French army, which had till then moved in -three columns, went on as a single group. The symptoms of disorder -that Pierre had noticed at their first halting place after leaving -Moscow had now reached the utmost limit. - -The road along which they moved was bordered on both sides by dead -horses; ragged men who had fallen behind from various regiments -continually changed about, now joining the moving column, now again -lagging behind it. - -Several times during the march false alarms had been given and the -soldiers of the escort had raised their muskets, fired, and run -headlong, crushing one another, but had afterwards reassembled and -abused each other for their causeless panic. - -These three groups traveling together- the cavalry stores, the -convoy of prisoners, and Junot's baggage train- still constituted a -separate and united whole, though each of the groups was rapidly -melting away. - -Of the artillery baggage train which had consisted of a hundred -and twenty wagons, not more than sixty now remained; the rest had been -captured or left behind. Some of Junot's wagons also had been captured -or abandoned. Three wagons had been raided and robbed by stragglers -from Davout's corps. From the talk of the Germans Pierre learned -that a larger guard had been allotted to that baggage train than to -the prisoners, and that one of their comrades, a German soldier, had -been shot by the marshal's own order because a silver spoon -belonging to the marshal had been found in his possession. - -The group of prisoners had melted away most of all. Of the three -hundred and thirty men who had set out from Moscow fewer than a -hundred now remained. The prisoners were more burdensome to the escort -than even the cavalry saddles or Junot's baggage. They understood that -the saddles and Junot's spoon might be of some use, but that cold -and hungry soldiers should have to stand and guard equally cold and -hungry Russians who froze and lagged behind on the road (in which case -the order was to shoot them) was not merely incomprehensible but -revolting. And the escort, as if afraid, in the grievous condition -they themselves were in, of giving way to the pity they felt for the -prisoners and so rendering their own plight still worse, treated -them with particular moroseness and severity. - -At Dorogobuzh while the soldiers of the convoy, after locking the -prisoners in a stable, had gone off to pillage their own stores, -several of the soldier prisoners tunneled under the wall and ran away, -but were recaptured by the French and shot. - -The arrangement adopted when they started, that the officer -prisoners should be kept separate from the rest, had long since been -abandoned. All who could walk went together, and after the third stage -Pierre had rejoined Karataev and the gray-blue bandy-legged dog that -had chosen Karataev for its master. - -On the third day after leaving Moscow Karataev again fell ill with -the fever he had suffered from in the hospital in Moscow, and as he -grew gradually weaker Pierre kept away from him. Pierre did not know -why, but since Karataev had begun to grow weaker it had cost him an -effort to go near him. When he did so and heard the subdued moaning -with which Karataev generally lay down at the halting places, and when -he smelled the odor emanating from him which was now stronger than -before, Pierre moved farther away and did not think about him. - -While imprisoned in the shed Pierre had learned not with his -intellect but with his whole being, by life itself, that man is -created for happiness, that happiness is within him, in the -satisfaction of simple human needs, and that all unhappiness arises -not from privation but from superfluity. And now during these last -three weeks of the march he had learned still another new, consolatory -truth- that nothing in this world is terrible. He had learned that -as there is no condition in which man can be happy and entirely -free, so there is no condition in which he need be unhappy and lack -freedom. He learned that suffering and freedom have their limits and -that those limits are very near together; that the person in a bed -of roses with one crumpled petal suffered as keenly as he now, -sleeping on the bare damp earth with one side growing chilled while -the other was warming; and that when he had put on tight dancing shoes -he had suffered just as he did now when he walked with bare feet -that were covered with sores- his footgear having long since fallen to -pieces. He discovered that when he had married his wife- of his own -free will as it had seemed to him- he had been no more free than now -when they locked him up at night in a stable. Of all that he himself -subsequently termed his sufferings, but which at the time he -scarcely felt, the worst was the state of his bare, raw, and -scab-covered feet. (The horseflesh was appetizing and nourishing, -the saltpeter flavor of the gunpowder they used instead of salt was -even pleasant; there was no great cold, it was always warm walking -in the daytime, and at night there were the campfires; the lice that -devoured him warmed his body.) The one thing that was at first hard to -bear was his feet. - -After the second day's march Pierre, having examined his feet by the -campfire, thought it would be impossible to walk on them; but when -everybody got up he went along, limping, and, when he had warmed up, -walked without feeling the pain, though at night his feet were more -terrible to look at than before. However, he did not look at them now, -but thought of other things. - -Only now did Pierre realize the full strength of life in man and the -saving power he has of transferring his attention from one thing to -another, which is like the safety valve of a boiler that allows -superfluous steam to blow off when the pressure exceeds a certain -limit. - -He did not see and did not hear how they shot the prisoners who -lagged behind, though more than a hundred perished in that way. He did -not think of Karataev who grew weaker every day and evidently would -soon have to share that fate. Still less did Pierre think about -himself. The harder his position became and the more terrible the -future, the more independent of that position in which he found -himself were the joyful and comforting thoughts, memories, and -imaginings that came to him. - -CHAPTER XIII - -At midday on the twenty-second of October Pierre was going uphill -along the muddy, slippery road, looking at his feet and at the -roughness of the way. Occasionally he glanced at the familiar crowd -around him and then again at his feet. The former and the latter -were alike familiar and his own. The blue-gray bandy legged dog ran -merrily along the side of the road, sometimes in proof of its -agility and self-satisfaction lifting one hind leg and hopping along -on three, and then again going on all four and rushing to bark at -the crows that sat on the carrion. The dog was merrier and sleeker -than it had been in Moscow. All around lay the flesh of different -animals- from men to horses- in various stages of decomposition; and -as the wolves were kept off by the passing men the dog could eat all -it wanted. - -It had been raining since morning and had seemed as if at any moment -it might cease and the sky clear, but after a short break it began -raining harder than before. The saturated road no longer absorbed -the water, which ran along the ruts in streams. - -Pierre walked along, looking from side to side, counting his steps -in threes, and reckoning them off on his fingers. Mentally -addressing the rain, he repeated: "Now then, now then, go on! Pelt -harder!" - -It seemed to him that he was thinking of nothing, but far down and -deep within him his soul was occupied with something important and -comforting. This something was a most subtle spiritual deduction -from a conversation with Karataev the day before. - -At their yesterday's halting place, feeling chilly by a dying -campfire, Pierre had got up and gone to the next one, which was -burning better. There Platon Karataev was sitting covered up- head and -all- with his greatcoat as if it were a vestment, telling the soldiers -in his effective and pleasant though now feeble voice a story Pierre -knew. It was already past midnight, the hour when Karataev was usually -free of his fever and particularly lively. When Pierre reached the -fire and heard Platon's voice enfeebled by illness, and saw his -pathetic face brightly lit up by the blaze, he felt a painful prick at -his heart. His feeling of pity for this man frightened him and he -wished to go away, but there was no other fire, and Pierre sat down, -trying not to look at Platon. - -"Well, how are you?" he asked. - -"How am I? If we grumble at sickness, God won't grant us death," -replied Platon, and at once resumed the story he had begun. - -"And so, brother," he continued, with a smile on his pale -emaciated face and a particularly happy light in his eyes, " you -see, brother..." - -Pierre had long been familiar with that story. Karataev had told -it to him alone some half-dozen times and always with a specially -joyful emotion. But well as he knew it, Pierre now listened to that -tale as to something new, and the quiet rapture Karataev evidently -felt as he told it communicated itself also to Pierre. The story was -of an old merchant who lived a good and God-fearing life with his -family, and who went once to the Nizhni fair with a companion- a -rich merchant. - -Having put up at an inn they both went to sleep, and next morning -his companion was found robbed and with his throat cut. A bloodstained -knife was found under the old merchant's pillow. He was tried, -knouted, and his nostrils having been torn off, "all in due form" as -Karataev put it, he was sent to hard labor in Siberia. - -"And so, brother" (it was at this point that Pierre came up), "ten -years or more passed by. The old man was living as a convict, -submitting as he should and doing no wrong. Only he prayed to God -for death. Well, one night the convicts were gathered just as we -are, with the old man among them. And they began telling what each was -suffering for, and how they had sinned against God. One told how he -had taken a life, another had taken two, a third had set a house on -fire, while another had simply been a vagrant and had done nothing. So -they asked the old man: 'What are you being punished for, Daddy?'- 'I, -my dear brothers,' said he, 'am being punished for my own and other -men's sins. But I have not killed anyone or taken anything that was -not mine, but have only helped my poorer brothers. I was a merchant, -my dear brothers, and had much property. 'And he went on to tell -them all about it in due order. 'I don't grieve for myself,' he -says, 'God, it seems, has chastened me. Only I am sorry for my old -wife and the children,' and the old man began to weep. Now it happened -that in the group was the very man who had killed the other -merchant. 'Where did it happen, Daddy?' he said. 'When, and in what -month?' He asked all about it and his heart began to ache. So he comes -up to the old man like this, and falls down at his feet! 'You are -perishing because of me, Daddy,' he says. 'It's quite true, lads, that -this man,' he says, 'is being tortured innocently and for nothing! I,' -he says, 'did that deed, and I put the knife under your head while you -were asleep. Forgive me, Daddy,' he says, 'for Christ's sake!'" - -Karataev paused, smiling joyously as he gazed into the fire, and -he drew the logs together. - -"And the old man said, 'God will forgive you, we are all sinners -in His sight. I suffer for my own sins,' and he wept bitter tears. -Well, and what do you think, dear friends?" Karataev continued, his -face brightening more and more with a rapturous smile as if what he -now had to tell contained the chief charm and the whole meaning of his -story: "What do you think, dear fellows? That murderer confessed to -the authorities. 'I have taken six lives,' he says (he was a great -sinner), 'but what I am most sorry for is this old man. Don't let -him suffer because of me.' So he confessed and it was all written down -and the papers sent off in due form. The place was a long way off, and -while they were judging, what with one thing and another, filling in -the papers all in due form- the authorities I mean- time passed. The -affair reached the Tsar. After a while the Tsar's decree came: to -set the merchant free and give him a compensation that had been -awarded. The paper arrived and they began to look for the old man. -'Where is the old man who has been suffering innocently and in vain? A -paper has come from the Tsar!' so they began looking for him," here -Karataev's lower jaw trembled, "but God had already forgiven him- he -was dead! That's how it was, dear fellows!" Karataev concluded and sat -for a long time silent, gazing before him with a smile. - -And Pierre's soul was dimly but joyfully filled not by the story -itself but by its mysterious significance: by the rapturous joy that -lit up Karataev's face as he told it, and the mystic significance of -that joy. - -CHAPTER XIV - -"A vos places!"~{ "To your places." }~ suddenly cried a voice. - -A pleasant feeling of excitement and an expectation of something -joyful and solemn was aroused among the soldiers of the convoy and the -prisoners. From all sides came shouts of command, and from the left -came smartly dressed cavalrymen on good horses, passing the -prisoners at a trot. The expression on all faces showed the tension -people feel at the approach of those in authority. The prisoners -thronged together and were pushed off the road. The convoy formed up. - -"The Emperor! The Emperor! The Marshal! The Duke!" and hardly had -the sleek cavalry passed, before a carriage drawn by six gray horses -rattled by. Pierre caught a glimpse of a man in a three-cornered hat -with a tranquil look on his handsome, plump, white face. It was one of -the marshals. His eye fell on Pierre's large and striking figure, -and in the expression with which he frowned and looked away Pierre -thought he detected sympathy and a desire to conceal that sympathy. - -The general in charge of the stores galloped after the carriage with -a red and frightened face, whipping up his skinny horse. Several -officers formed a group and some soldiers crowded round them. Their -faces all looked excited and worried. - -"What did he say? What did he say?" Pierre heard them ask. - -While the marshal was passing, the prisoners had huddled together in -a crowd, and Pierre saw Karataev whom he had not yet seen that -morning. He sat in his short overcoat leaning against a birch tree. On -his face, besides the look of joyful emotion it had worn yesterday -while telling the tale of the merchant who suffered innocently, -there was now an expression of quiet solemnity. - -Karataev looked at Pierre with his kindly round eyes now filled with -tears, evidently wishing him to come near that he might say -something to him. But Pierre was not sufficiently sure of himself. -He made as if he did not notice that look and moved hastily away. - -When the prisoners again went forward Pierre looked round. -Karataev was still sitting at the side of the road under the birch -tree and two Frenchmen were talking over his head. Pierre did not look -round again but went limping up the hill. - -From behind, where Karataev had been sitting, came the sound of a -shot. Pierre heard it plainly, but at that moment he remembered that -he had not yet finished reckoning up how many stages still remained to -Smolensk- a calculation he had begun before the marshal went by. And -he again started reckoning. Two French soldiers ran past Pierre, one -of whom carried a lowered and smoking gun. They both looked pale, -and in the expression on their faces- one of them glanced timidly at -Pierre- there was something resembling what he had seen on the face of -the young soldier at the execution. Pierre looked at the soldier and -remembered that, two days before, that man had burned his shirt -while drying it at the fire and how they had laughed at him. - -Behind him, where Karataev had been sitting, the dog began to -howl. "What a stupid beast! Why is it howling?" thought Pierre. - -His comrades, the prisoner soldiers walking beside him, avoided -looking back at the place where the shot had been fired and the dog -was howling, just as Pierre did, but there was a set look on all their -faces. - -CHAPTER XV - -The stores, the prisoners, and the marshal's baggage train stopped -at the village of Shamshevo. The men crowded together round the -campfires. Pierre went up to the fire, ate some roast horseflesh, -lay down with his back to the fire, and immediately fell asleep. He -again slept as he had done at Mozhaysk after the battle of Borodino. - -Again real events mingled with dreams and again someone, he or -another, gave expression to his thoughts, and even to the same -thoughts that had been expressed in his dream at Mozhaysk. - -"Life is everything. Life is God. Everything changes and moves and -that movement is God. And while there is life there is joy in -consciousness of the divine. To love life is to love God. Harder and -more blessed than all else is to love this life in one's sufferings, -in innocent sufferings." - -"Karataev!" came to Pierre's mind. - -And suddenly he saw vividly before him a long-forgotten, kindly -old man who had given him geography lessons in Switzerland. "Wait a -bit," said the old man, and showed Pierre a globe. This globe was -alive- a vibrating ball without fixed dimensions. Its whole surface -consisted of drops closely pressed together, and all these drops moved -and changed places, sometimes several of them merging into one, -sometimes one dividing into many. Each drop tried to spread out and -occupy as much space as possible, but others striving to do the same -compressed it, sometimes destroyed it, and sometimes merged with it. - -"That is life," said the old teacher. - -"How simple and clear it is," thought Pierre. "How is it I did not -know it before?" - -"God is in the midst, and each drop tries to expand so as to reflect -Him to the greatest extent. And it grows, merges, disappears from -the surface, sinks to the depths, and again emerges. There now, -Karataev has spread out and disappeared. Do you understand, my child?" -said the teacher. - -"Do you understand, damn you?" shouted a voice, and Pierre woke up. - -He lifted himself and sat up. A Frenchman who had just pushed a -Russian soldier away was squatting by the fire, engaged in roasting -a piece of meat stuck on a ramrod. His sleeves were rolled up and -his sinewy, hairy, red hands with their short fingers deftly turned -the ramrod. His brown morose face with frowning brows was clearly -visible by the glow of the charcoal. - -"It's all the same to him," he muttered, turning quickly to a -soldier who stood behind him. "Brigand! Get away!" - -And twisting the ramrod he looked gloomily at Pierre, who turned -away and gazed into the darkness. A prisoner, the Russian soldier -the Frenchman had pushed away, was sitting near the fire patting -something with his hand. Looking more closely Pierre recognized the -blue-gray dog, sitting beside the soldier, wagging its tail. - -"Ah, he's come?" said Pierre. "And Plat-" he began, but did not -finish. - -Suddenly and simultaneously a crowd of memories awoke in his -fancy- of the look Platon had given him as he sat under the tree, of -the shot heard from that spot, of the dog's howl, of the guilty -faces of the two Frenchmen as they ran past him, of the lowered and -smoking gun, and of Karataev's absence at this halt- and he was on the -point of realizing that Karataev had been killed, but just at that -instant, he knew not why, the recollection came to his mind of a -summer evening he had spent with a beautiful Polish lady on the -veranda of his house in Kiev. And without linking up the events of the -day or drawing a conclusion from them, Pierre closed his eyes, -seeing a vision of the country in summertime mingled with memories -of bathing and of the liquid, vibrating globe, and he sank into -water so that it closed over his head. - -Before sunrise he was awakened by shouts and loud and rapid -firing. French soldiers were running past him. - -"The Cossacks!" one of them shouted, and a moment later a crowd of -Russians surrounded Pierre. - -For a long time he could not understand what was happening to him. -All around he heard his comrades sobbing with joy. - -"Brothers! Dear fellows! Darlings!" old soldiers exclaimed, weeping, -as they embraced Cossacks and hussars. - -The hussars and Cossacks crowded round the prisoners; one offered -them clothes, another boots, and a third bread. Pierre sobbed as he -sat among them and could not utter a word. He hugged the first soldier -who approached him, and kissed him, weeping. - -Dolokhov stood at the gate of the ruined house, letting a crowd of -disarmed Frenchmen pass by. The French, excited by all that had -happened, were talking loudly among themselves, but as they passed -Dolokhov who gently switched his boots with his whip and watched -them with cold glassy eyes that boded no good, they became silent. -On the opposite side stood Dolokhov's Cossack, counting the -prisoners and marking off each hundred with a chalk line on the gate. - -"How many?" Dolokhov asked the Cossack. - -"The second hundred," replied the Cossack. - -"Filez, filez!"~{ "Get along, get along!" }~ Dolokhov kept saying, having adopted this -expression from the French, and when his eyes met those of the -prisoners they flashed with a cruel light. - -Denisov, bareheaded and with a gloomy face, walked behind some -Cossacks who were carrying the body of Petya Rostov to a hole that had -been dug in the garden. - -CHAPTER XVI - -After the twenty-eighth of October when the frosts began, the flight -of the French assumed a still more tragic character, with men -freezing, or roasting themselves to death at the campfires, while -carriages with people dressed in furs continued to drive past, -carrying away the property that had been stolen by the Emperor, kings, -and dukes; but the process of the flight and disintegration of the -French army went on essentially as before. - -From Moscow to Vyazma the French army of seventy-three thousand -men not reckoning the Guards (who did nothing during the whole war but -pillage) was reduced to thirty-six thousand, though not more than five -thousand had fallen in battle. From this beginning the succeeding -terms of the progression could be determined mathematically. The -French army melted away and perished at the same rate from Moscow to -Vyazma, from Vyazma to Smolensk, from Smolensk to the Berezina, and -from the Berezina to Vilna- independently of the greater or lesser -intensity of the cold, the pursuit, the barring of the way, or any -other particular conditions. Beyond Vyazma the French army instead -of moving in three columns huddled together into one mass, and so went -on to the end. Berthier wrote to his Emperor (we know how far -commanding officers allow themselves to diverge from the truth in -describing the condition of an army) and this is what he said: - -I deem it my duty to report to Your Majesty the condition of the -various corps I have had occasion to observe during different stages -of the last two or three days' march. They are almost disbanded. -Scarcely a quarter of the soldiers remain with the standards of -their regiments, the others go off by themselves in different -directions hoping to find food and escape discipline. In general -they regard Smolensk as the place where they hope to recover. During -the last few days many of the men have been seen to throw away their -cartridges and their arms. In such a state of affairs, whatever your -ultimate plans may be, the interest of Your Majesty's service -demands that the army should be rallied at Smolensk and should first -of all be freed from ineffectives, such as dismounted cavalry, -unnecessary baggage, and artillery material that is no longer in -proportion to the present forces. The soldiers, who are worn out -with hunger and fatigue, need these supplies as well as a few days' -rest. Many have died last days on the road or at the bivouacs. This -state of things is continually becoming worse and makes one fear -that unless a prompt remedy is applied the troops will no longer be -under control in case of an engagement. - -November 9: twenty miles from Smolensk. - -After staggering into Smolensk which seemed to them a promised land, -the French, searching for food, killed one another, sacked their own -stores, and when everything had been plundered fled farther. - -They all went without knowing whither or why they were going. -Still less did that genius, Napoleon, know it, for no one issued any -orders to him. But still he and those about him retained their old -habits: wrote commands, letters, reports, and orders of the day; -called one another sire, mon cousin, prince d'Eckmuhl, roi de -Naples, and so on. But these orders and reports were only on paper, -nothing in them was acted upon for they could not be carried out, -and though they entitled one another Majesties, Highnesses, or -Cousins, they all felt that they were miserable wretches who had -done much evil for which they had now to pay. And though they -pretended to be concerned about the army, each was thinking only of -himself and of how to get away quickly and save himself. - -CHAPTER XVII - -The movements of the Russian and French armies during the campaign -from Moscow back to the Niemen were like those in a game of Russian -blindman's bluff, in which two players are blindfolded and one of them -occasionally rings a little bell to inform the catcher of his -whereabouts. First he rings his bell fearlessly, but when he gets into -a tight place he runs away as quietly as he can, and often thinking to -escape runs straight into his opponent's arms. - -At first while they were still moving along the Kaluga road, -Napoleon's armies made their presence known, but later when they -reached the Smolensk road they ran holding the clapper of their bell -tight- and often thinking they were escaping ran right into the -Russians. - -Owing to the rapidity of the French flight and the Russian pursuit -and the consequent exhaustion of the horses, the chief means of -approximately ascertaining the enemy's position- by cavalry -scouting- was not available. Besides, as a result of the frequent -and rapid change of position by each army, even what information was -obtained could not be delivered in time. If news was received one -day that the enemy had been in a certain position the day before, by -the third day when something could have been done, that army was -already two days' march farther on and in quite another position. - -One army fled and the other pursued. Beyond Smolensk there were -several different roads available for the French, and one would have -thought that during their stay of four days they might have learned -where the enemy was, might have arranged some more advantageous plan -and undertaken something new. But after a four days' halt the mob, -with no maneuvers or plans, again began running along the beaten -track, neither to the right nor to the left but along the old- the -worst- road, through Krasnoe and Orsha. - -Expecting the enemy from behind and not in front, the French -separated in their flight and spread out over a distance of -twenty-four hours. In front of them all fled the Emperor, then the -kings, then the dukes. The Russian army, expecting Napoleon to take -the road to the right beyond the Dnieper- which was the only -reasonable thing for him to do- themselves turned to the right and -came out onto the highroad at Krasnoe. And here as in a game of -blindman's buff the French ran into our vanguard. Seeing their enemy -unexpectedly the French fell into confusion and stopped short from the -sudden fright, but then they resumed their flight, abandoning their -comrades who were farther behind. Then for three days separate -portions of the French army- first Murat's (the vice-king's), then -Davout's, and then Ney's- ran, as it were, the gauntlet of the Russian -army. They abandoned one another, abandoned all their heavy baggage, -their artillery, and half their men, and fled, getting past the -Russians by night by making semicircles to the right. - -Ney, who came last, had been busying himself blowing up the walls of -Smolensk which were in nobody's way, because despite the unfortunate -plight of the French or because of it, they wished to punish the floor -against which they had hurt themselves. Ney, who had had a corps of -ten thousand men, reached Napoleon at Orsha with only one thousand men -left, having abandoned all the rest and all his cannon, and having -crossed the Dnieper at night by stealth at a wooded spot. - -From Orsha they fled farther along the road to Vilna, still -playing at blindman's buff with the pursuing army. At the Berezina -they again became disorganized, many were drowned and many -surrendered, but those who got across the river fled farther. Their -supreme chief donned a fur coat and, having seated himself in a -sleigh, galloped on alone, abandoning his companions. The others who -could do so drove away too, leaving those who could not to surrender -or die. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -This campaign consisted in a flight of the French during which -they did all they could to destroy themselves. From the time they -turned onto the Kaluga road to the day their leader fled from the -army, none of the movements of the crowd had any sense. So one might -have thought that regarding this period of the campaign the -historians, who attributed the actions of the mass to the will of -one man, would have found it impossible to make the story of the -retreat fit their theory. But no! Mountains of books have been written -by the historians about this campaign, and everywhere are described -Napoleon's arrangements, the maneuvers, and his profound plans which -guided the army, as well as the military genius shown by his marshals. - -The retreat from Malo-Yaroslavets when he had a free road into a -well-supplied district and the parallel road was open to him along -which Kutuzov afterwards pursued him- this unnecessary retreat along a -devastated road- is explained to us as being due to profound -considerations. Similarly profound considerations are given for his -retreat from Smolensk to Orsha. Then his heroism at Krasnoe is -described, where he is reported to have been prepared to accept battle -and take personal command, and to have walked about with a birch stick -and said: - -"J'ai assez fait l'empereur; il est temps de faire le general,"~{ "I have acted the Emperor long enough; it is time to act the -general." }~ but -nevertheless immediately ran away again, abandoning to its fate the -scattered fragments of the army he left behind. - -Then we are told of the greatness of soul of the marshals, -especially of Ney- a greatness of soul consisting in this: that he -made his way by night around through the forest and across the Dnieper -and escaped to Orsha, abandoning standards, artillery, and nine tenths -of his men. - -And lastly, the final departure of the great Emperor from his heroic -army is presented to us by the historians as something great and -characteristic of genius. Even that final running away, described in -ordinary language as the lowest depth of baseness which every child is -taught to be ashamed of- even that act finds justification in the -historians' language. - -When it is impossible to stretch the very elastic threads of -historical ratiocination any farther, when actions are clearly -contrary to all that humanity calls right or even just, the historians -produce a saving conception of "greatness." "Greatness," it seems, -excludes the standards of right and wrong. For the "great" man nothing -is wrong, there is no atrocity for which a "great" man can be blamed. - -"C'est grand!"~{ "It is great." }~ say the historians, and there no longer exists -either good or evil but only "grand" and "not grand." Grand is good, -not grand is bad. Grand is the characteristic, in their conception, of -some special animals called "heroes." And Napoleon, escaping home in a -warm fur coat and leaving to perish those who were not merely his -comrades but were (in his opinion) men he had brought there, feels que -c'est grand,~{ That it is great. }~ and his soul is tranquil. - -"Du sublime (he saw something sublime in himself) au ridicule il n'y -a qu'un pas,"~{ "From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a step." }~ said he. And the whole world for fifty years has been -repeating: "Sublime! Grand! Napoleon le Grand!" Du sublime au ridicule -il n'y a qu'un pas. - -And it occurs to no one that to admit a greatness not -commensurable with the standard of right and wrong is merely to -admit one's own nothingness and immeasurable meanness. - -For us with the standard of good and evil given us by Christ, no -human actions are incommensurable. And there is no greatness where -simplicity, goodness, and truth are absent. - -CHAPTER XIX - -What Russian, reading the account of the last part of the campaign -of 1812, has not experienced an uncomfortable feeling of regret, -dissatisfaction, and perplexity? Who has not asked himself how it is -that the French were not all captured or destroyed when our three -armies surrounded them in superior numbers, when the disordered -French, hungry and freezing, surrendered in crowds, and when (as the -historians relate) the aim of the Russians was to stop the French, -to cut them off, and capture them all? - -How was it that the Russian army, which when numerically weaker than -the French had given battle at Borodino, did not achieve its purpose -when it had surrounded the French on three sides and when its aim -was to capture them? Can the French be so enormously superior to us -that when we had surrounded them with superior forces we could not -beat them? How could that happen? - -History (or what is called by that name) replying to these questions -says that this occurred because Kutuzov and Tormasov and Chichagov, -and this man and that man, did not execute such and such maneuvers... - -But why did they not execute those maneuvers? And why if they were -guilty of not carrying out a prearranged plan were they not tried -and punished? But even if we admitted that Kutuzov, Chichagov, and -others were the cause of the Russian failures, it is still -incomprehensible why, the position of the Russian army being what it -was at Krasnoe and at the Berezina (in both cases we had superior -forces), the French army with its marshals, kings, and Emperor was not -captured, if that was what the Russians aimed at. - -The explanation of this strange fact given by Russian military -historians (to the effect that Kutuzov hindered an attack) is -unfounded, for we know that he could not restrain the troops from -attacking at Vyazma and Tarutino. - -Why was the Russian army- which with inferior forces had withstood -the enemy in full strength at Borodino- defeated at Krasnoe and the -Berezina by the disorganized crowds of the French when it was -numerically superior? - -If the aim of the Russians consisted in cutting off and capturing -Napoleon and his marshals- and that aim was not merely frustrated -but all attempts to attain it were most shamefully baffled- then -this last period of the campaign is quite rightly considered by the -French to be a series of victories, and quite wrongly considered -victorious by Russian historians. - -The Russian military historians in so far as they submit to claims -of logic must admit that conclusion, and in spite of their lyrical -rhapsodies about valor, devotion, and so forth, must reluctantly admit -that the French retreat from Moscow was a series of victories for -Napoleon and defeats for Kutuzov. - -But putting national vanity entirely aside one feels that such a -conclusion involves a contradiction, since the series of French -victories brought the French complete destruction, while the series of -Russian defeats led to the total destruction of their enemy and the -liberation of their country. - -The source of this contradiction lies in the fact that the -historians studying the events from the letters of the sovereigns -and the generals, from memoirs, reports, projects, and so forth, -have attributed to this last period of the war of 1812 an aim that -never existed, namely that of cutting off and capturing Napoleon -with his marshals and his army. - -There never was or could have been such an aim, for it would have -been senseless and its attainment quite impossible. - -It would have been senseless, first because Napoleon's -disorganized army was flying from Russia with all possible speed, that -is to say, was doing just what every Russian desired. So what was -the use of performing various operations on the French who were -running away as fast as they possibly could? - -Secondly, it would have been senseless to block the passage of men -whose whole energy was directed to flight. - -Thirdly, it would have been senseless to sacrifice one's own -troops in order to destroy the French army, which without external -interference was destroying itself at such a rate that, though its -path was not blocked, it could not carry across the frontier more than -it actually did in December, namely a hundredth part of the original -army. - -Fourthly, it would have been senseless to wish to take captive the -Emperor, kings, and dukes- whose capture would have been in the -highest degree embarrassing for the Russians, as the most adroit -diplomatists of the time (Joseph de Maistre and others) recognized. -Still more senseless would have been the wish to capture army corps of -the French, when our own army had melted away to half before -reaching Krasnoe and a whole division would have been needed to convoy -the corps of prisoners, and when our men were not always getting -full rations and the prisoners already taken were perishing of hunger. - -All the profound plans about cutting off and capturing Napoleon -and his army were like the plan of a market gardener who, when driving -out of his garden a cow that had trampled down the beds he had -planted, should run to the gate and hit the cow on the head. The -only thing to be said in excuse of that gardener would be that he -was very angry. But not even that could be said for those who drew -up this project, for it was not they who had suffered from the -trampled beds. - -But besides the fact that cutting off Napoleon with his army would -have been senseless, it was impossible. - -It was impossible first because- as experience shows that a -three-mile movement of columns on a battlefield never coincides with -the plans- the probability of Chichagov, Kutuzov, and Wittgenstein -effecting a junction on time at an appointed place was so remote as to -be tantamount to impossibility, as in fact thought Kutuzov, who when -he received the plan remarked that diversions planned over great -distances do not yield the desired results. - -Secondly it was impossible, because to paralyze the momentum with -which Napoleon's army was retiring, incomparably greater forces than -the Russians possessed would have been required. - -Thirdly it was impossible, because the military term "to cut off" -has no meaning. One can cut off a slice of bread, but not an army. -To cut off an army- to bar its road- is quite impossible, for there is -always plenty of room to avoid capture and there is the night when -nothing can be seen, as the military scientists might convince -themselves by the example of Krasnoe and of the Berezina. It is only -possible to capture prisoners if they agree to be captured, just as it -is only possible to catch a swallow if it settles on one's hand. Men -can only be taken prisoners if they surrender according to the rules -of strategy and tactics, as the Germans did. But the French troops -quite rightly did not consider that this suited them, since death by -hunger and cold awaited them in flight or captivity alike. - -Fourthly and chiefly it was impossible, because never since the -world began has a war been fought under such conditions as those -that obtained in 1812, and the Russian army in its pursuit of the -French strained its strength to the utmost and could not have done -more without destroying itself. - -During the movement of the Russian army from Tarutino to Krasnoe -it lost fifty thousand sick or stragglers, that is a number equal to -the population of a large provincial town. Half the men fell out of -the army without a battle. - -And it is of this period of the campaign- when the army lacked boots -and sheepskin coats, was short of provisions and without vodka, and -was camping out at night for months in the snow with fifteen degrees -of frost, when there were only seven or eight hours of daylight and -the rest was night in which the influence of discipline cannot be -maintained, when men were taken into that region of death where -discipline fails, not for a few hours only as in a battle, but for -months, where they were every moment fighting death from hunger and -cold, when half the army perished in a single month- it is of this -period of the campaign that the historians tell us how Miloradovich -should have made a flank march to such and such a place, Tormasov to -another place, and Chichagov should have crossed (more than -knee-deep in snow) to somewhere else, and how so-and-so "routed" and -"cut off" the French and so on and so on. - -The Russians, half of whom died, did all that could and should -have been done to attain an end worthy of the nation, and they are not -to blame because other Russians, sitting in warm rooms, proposed -that they should do what was impossible. - -All that strange contradiction now difficult to understand between -the facts and the historical accounts only arises because the -historians dealing with the matter have written the history of the -beautiful words and sentiments of various generals, and not the -history of the events. - -To them the words of Miloradovich seem very interesting, and so do -their surmises and the rewards this or that general received; but -the question of those fifty thousand men who were left in hospitals -and in graves does not even interest them, for it does not come within -the range of their investigation. - -Yet one need only discard the study of the reports and general plans -and consider the movement of those hundreds of thousands of men who -took a direct part in the events, and all the questions that seemed -insoluble easily and simply receive an immediate and certain solution. - -The aim of cutting off Napoleon and his army never existed except in -the imaginations of a dozen people. It could not exist because it -was senseless and unattainable. - -The people had a single aim: to free their land from invasion. -That aim was attained in the first place of itself, as the French -ran away, and so it was only necessary not to stop their flight. -Secondly it was attained by the guerrilla warfare which was destroying -the French, and thirdly by the fact that a large Russian army was -following the French, ready to use its strength in case their movement -stopped. - -The Russian army had to act like a whip to a running animal. And the -experienced driver knew it was better to hold the whip raised as a -menace than to strike the running animal on the head. - -BOOK FIFTEEN: 1812 - 13 - -CHAPTER I - -When seeing a dying animal a man feels a sense of horror: -substance similar to his own is perishing before his eyes. But when it -is a beloved and intimate human being that is dying, besides this -horror at the extinction of life there is a severance, a spiritual -wound, which like a physical wound is sometimes fatal and sometimes -heals, but always aches and shrinks at any external irritating touch. - -After Prince Andrew's death Natasha and Princess Mary alike felt -this. Drooping in spirit and closing their eyes before the menacing -cloud of death that overhung them, they dared not look life in the -face. They carefully guarded their open wounds from any rough and -painful contact. Everything: a carriage passing rapidly in the street, -a summons to dinner, the maid's inquiry what dress to prepare, or -worse still any word of insincere or feeble sympathy, seemed an -insult, painfully irritated the wound, interrupting that necessary -quiet in which they both tried to listen to the stern and dreadful -choir that still resounded in their imagination, and hindered their -gazing into those mysterious limitless vistas that for an instant -had opened out before them. - -Only when alone together were they free from such outrage and -pain. They spoke little even to one another, and when they did it -was of very unimportant matters. - -Both avoided any allusion to the future. To admit the possibility of -a future seemed to them to insult his memory. Still more carefully did -they avoid anything relating to him who was dead. It seemed to them -that what they had lived through and experienced could not be -expressed in words, and that any reference to the details of his -life infringed the majesty and sacredness of the mystery that had been -accomplished before their eyes. - -Continued abstention from speech, and constant avoidance of -everything that might lead up to the subject- this halting on all -sides at the boundary of what they might not mention- brought before -their minds with still greater purity and clearness what they were -both feeling. - -But pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete -joy. Princess Mary, in her position as absolute and independent -arbiter of her own fate and guardian and instructor of her nephew, was -the first to be called back to life from that realm of sorrow in which -she had dwelt for the first fortnight. She received letters from her -relations to which she had to reply; the room in which little Nicholas -had been put was damp and he began to cough; Alpatych came to -Yaroslavl with reports on the state of their affairs and with advice -and suggestions that they should return to Moscow to the house on -the Vozdvizhenka Street, which had remained uninjured and needed -only slight repairs. Life did not stand still and it was necessary -to live. Hard as it was for Princess Mary to emerge from the realm -of secluded contemplation in which she had lived till then, and -sorry and almost ashamed as she felt to leave Natasha alone, yet the -cares of life demanded her attention and she involuntarily yielded -to them. She went through the accounts with Alpatych, conferred with -Dessalles about her nephew, and gave orders and made preparations -for the journey to Moscow. - -Natasha remained alone and, from the time Princess Mary began making -preparations for departure, held aloof from her too. - -Princess Mary asked the countess to let Natasha go with her to -Moscow, and both parents gladly accepted this offer, for they saw -their daughter losing strength every day and thought that a change -of scene and the advice of Moscow doctors would be good for her. - -"I am not going anywhere," Natasha replied when this was proposed to -her. "Do please just leave me alone!" And she ran out of the room, -with difficulty refraining from tears of vexation and irritation -rather than of sorrow. - -After she felt herself deserted by Princes Mary and alone in her -grief, Natasha spent most of the time in her room by herself, -sitting huddled up feet and all in the corner of the sofa, tearing and -twisting something with her slender nervous fingers and gazing -intently and fixedly at whatever her eyes chanced to fall on. This -solitude exhausted and tormented her but she was in absolute need of -it. As soon as anyone entered she got up quickly, changed her position -and expression, and picked up a book or some sewing, evidently waiting -impatiently for the intruder to go. - -She felt all the time as if she might at any moment penetrate that -on which- with a terrible questioning too great for her strength- -her spiritual gaze was fixed. - -One day toward the end of December Natasha, pale and thin, dressed -in a black woolen gown, her plaited hair negligently twisted into a -knot, was crouched feet and all in the corner of her sofa, nervously -crumpling and smoothing out the end of her sash while she looked at -a corner of the door. - -She was gazing in the direction in which he had gone- to the other -side of life. And that other side of life, of which she had never -before thought and which had formerly seemed to her so far away and -improbable, was now nearer and more akin and more comprehensible -than this side of life, where everything was either emptiness and -desolation or suffering and indignity. - -She was gazing where she knew him to be; but she could not imagine -him otherwise than as he had been here. She now saw him again as he -had been at Mytishchi, at Troitsa, and at Yaroslavl. - -She saw his face, heard his voice, repeated his words and her own, -and sometimes devised other words they might have spoken. - -There he is lying back in an armchair in his velvet cloak, leaning -his head on his thin pale hand. His chest is dreadfully hollow and his -shoulders raised. His lips are firmly closed, his eyes glitter, and -a wrinkle comes and goes on his pale forehead. One of his legs -twitches just perceptibly, but rapidly. Natasha knows that he is -struggling with terrible pain. "What is that pain like? Why does he -have that pain? What does he feel? How does it hurt him?" thought -Natasha. He noticed her watching him, raised his eyes, and began to -speak seriously: - -"One thing would be terrible," said he: "to bind oneself forever -to a suffering man. It would be continual torture." And he looked -searchingly at her. Natasha as usual answered before she had time to -think what she would say. She said: "This can't go on- it won't. You -will get well- quite well." - -She now saw him from the commencement of that scene and relived what -she had then felt. She recalled his long sad and severe look at -those words and understood the meaning of the rebuke and despair in -that protracted gaze. - -"I agreed," Natasha now said to herself, "that it would be -dreadful if he always continued to suffer. I said it then only because -it would have been dreadful for him, but he understood it differently. -He thought it would be dreadful for me. He then still wished to live -and feared death. And I said it so awkwardly and stupidly! I did not -say what I meant. I thought quite differently. Had I said what I -thought, I should have said: even if he had to go on dying, to die -continually before my eyes, I should have been happy compared with -what I am now. Now there is nothing... nobody. Did he know that? No, -he did not and never will know it. And now it will never, never be -possible to put it right." And now he again seemed to be saying the -same words to her, only in her imagination Natasha this time gave -him a different answer. She stopped him and said: "Terrible for you, -but not for me! You know that for me there is nothing in life but you, -and to suffer with you is the greatest happiness for me," and he -took her hand and pressed it as he had pressed it that terrible -evening four days before his death. And in her imagination she said -other tender and loving words which she might have said then but -only spoke now: "I love thee!... thee! I love, love..." she said, -convulsively pressing her hands and setting her teeth with a desperate -effort... - -She was overcome by sweet sorrow and tears were already rising in -her eyes; then she suddenly asked herself to whom she was saying this. -Again everything was shrouded in hard, dry perplexity, and again -with a strained frown she peered toward the world where he was. And -now, now it seemed to her she was penetrating the mystery.... But at -the instant when it seemed that the incomprehensible was revealing -itself to her a loud rattle of the door handle struck painfully on her -ears. Dunyasha, her maid, entered the room quickly and abruptly with a -frightened look on her face and showing no concern for her mistress. - -"Come to your Papa at once, please!" said she with a strange, -excited look. "A misfortune... about Peter Ilynich... a letter," she -finished with a sob. - -CHAPTER II - -Besides a feeling of aloofness from everybody Natasha was feeling -a special estrangement from the members of her own family. All of -them- her father, mother, and Sonya- were so near to her, so familiar, -so commonplace, that all their words and feelings seemed an insult -to the world in which she had been living of late, and she felt not -merely indifferent to them but regarded them with hostility. She heard -Dunyasha's words about Peter Ilynich and a misfortune, but did not -grasp them. - -"What misfortune? What misfortune can happen to them? They just live -their own old, quiet, and commonplace life," thought Natasha. - -As she entered the ballroom her father was hurriedly coming out of -her mother's room. His face was puckered up and wet with tears. He had -evidently run out of that room to give vent to the sobs that were -choking him. When he saw Natasha he waved his arms despairingly and -burst into convulsively painful sobs that distorted his soft round -face. - -"Pe... Petya... Go, go, she... is calling..." and weeping like a -child and quickly shuffling on his feeble legs to a chair, he almost -fell into it, covering his face with his hands. - -Suddenly an electric shock seemed to run through Natasha's whole -being. Terrible anguish struck her heart, she felt a dreadful ache -as if something was being torn inside her and she were dying. But -the pain was immediately followed by a feeling of release from the -oppressive constraint that had prevented her taking part in life. -The sight of her father, the terribly wild cries of her mother that -she heard through the door, made her immediately forget herself and -her own grief. - -She ran to her father, but he feebly waved his arm, pointing to -her mother's door. Princess Mary, pale and with quivering chin, came -out from that room and taking Natasha by the arm said something to -her. Natasha neither saw nor heard her. She went in with rapid -steps, pausing at the door for an instant as if struggling with -herself, and then ran to her mother. - -The countess was lying in an armchair in a strange and awkward -position, stretching out and beating her head against the wall. -Sonya and the maids were holding her arms. - -"Natasha! Natasha!..." cried the countess. "It's not true... it's -not true... He's lying... Natasha!" she shrieked, pushing those around -her away. "Go away, all of you; it's not true! Killed!... ha, ha, -ha!... It's not true!" - -Natasha put one knee on the armchair, stooped over her mother, -embraced her, and with unexpected strength raised her, turned her face -toward herself, and clung to her. - -"Mummy!... darling!... I am here, my dearest Mummy," she kept on -whispering, not pausing an instant. - -She did not let go of her mother but struggled tenderly with her, -demanded a pillow and hot water, and unfastened and tore open her -mother's dress. - -"My dearest darling... Mummy, my precious!..." she whispered -incessantly, kissing her head, her hands, her face, and feeling her -own irrepressible and streaming tears tickling her nose and cheeks. - -The countess pressed her daughter's hand, closed her eyes, and -became quiet for a moment. Suddenly she sat up with unaccustomed -swiftness, glanced vacantly around her, and seeing Natasha began to -press her daughter's head with all her strength. Then she turned -toward her daughter's face which was wincing with pain and gazed -long at it. - -"Natasha, you love me?" she said in a soft trustful whisper. -"Natasha, you would not deceive me? You'll tell me the whole truth?" - -Natasha looked at her with eyes full of tears and in her look -there was nothing but love and an entreaty for forgiveness. - -"My darling Mummy!" she repeated, straining all the power of her -love to find some way of taking on herself the excess of grief that -crushed her mother. - -And again in a futile struggle with reality her mother, refusing -to believe that she could live when her beloved boy was killed in -the bloom of life, escaped from reality into a world of delirium. - -Natasha did not remember how that day passed nor that night, nor the -next day and night. She did not sleep and did not leave her mother. -Her persevering and patient love seemed completely to surround the -countess every moment, not explaining or consoling, but recalling -her to life. - -During the third night the countess kept very quiet for a few -minutes, and Natasha rested her head on the arm of her chair and -closed her eyes, but opened them again on hearing the bedstead -creak. The countess was sitting up in bed and speaking softly. - -"How glad I am you have come. You are tired. Won't you have some -tea?" Natasha went up to her. "You have improved in looks and grown -more manly," continued the countess, taking her daughter's hand. - -"Mamma! What are you saying..." - -"Natasha, he is no more, no more!" - -And embracing her daughter, the countess began to weep for the first -time. - -CHAPTER III - -Princess Mary postponed her departure. Sonya and the count tried -to replace Natasha but could not. They saw that she alone was able -to restrain her mother from unreasoning despair. For three weeks -Natasha remained constantly at her mother's side, sleeping on a lounge -chair in her room, making her eat and drink, and talking to her -incessantly because the mere sound of her tender, caressing tones -soothed her mother. - -The mother's wounded spirit could not could not heal. Petya's -death had torn from her half her life. When the news of Petya's -death had come she had been a fresh and vigorous woman of fifty, but a -month later she left her room a listless old woman taking no -interest in life. But the same blow that almost killed the countess, -this second blow, restored Natasha to life. - -A spiritual wound produced by a rending of the spiritual body is -like a physical wound and, strange as it may seem, just as a deep -wound may heal and its edges join, physical and spiritual wounds alike -can yet heal completely only as the result of a vital force from -within. - -Natasha's wound healed in that way. She thought her life was -ended, but her love for her mother unexpectedly showed her that the -essence of life- love- was still active within her. Love awoke and -so did life. - -Prince Andrew's last days had bound Princess Mary and Natasha -together; this new sorrow brought them still closer to one another. -Princess Mary put off her departure, and for three weeks looked -after Natasha as if she had been a sick child. The last weeks passed -in her mother's bedroom had strained Natasha's physical strength. - -One afternoon noticing Natasha shivering with fever, Princess Mary -took her to her own room and made her lie down on the bed. Natasha lay -down, but when Princess Mary had drawn the blinds and was going away -she called her back. - -"I don't want to sleep, Mary, sit by me a little." - -"You are tired- try to sleep." - -"No, no. Why did you bring me away? She will be asking for me." - -"She is much better. She spoke so well today," said Princess Mary. - -Natasha lay on the bed and in the semidarkness of the room scanned -Princess Mary's face. - -"Is she like him?" thought Natasha. "Yes, like and yet not like. But -she is quite original, strange, new, and unknown. And she loves me. -What is in her heart? All that is good. But how? What is her mind -like? What does she think about me? Yes, she is splendid!" - -"Mary," she said timidly, drawing Princess Mary's hand to herself, -"Mary, you mustn't think me wicked. No? Mary darling, how I love -you! Let us be quite, quite friends." - -And Natasha, embracing her, began kissing her face and hands, making -Princess Mary feel shy but happy by this demonstration of her -feelings. - -From that day a tender and passionate friendship such as exists only -between women was established between Princess Mary and Natasha. -They were continually kissing and saying tender things to one -another and spent most of their time together. When one went out the -other became restless and hastened to rejoin her. Together they felt -more in harmony with one another than either of them felt with herself -when alone. A feeling stronger than friendship sprang up between them; -an exclusive feeling of life being possible only in each other's -presence. - -Sometimes they were silent for hours; sometimes after they were -already in bed they would begin talking and go on till morning. They -spoke most of what was long past. Princess Mary spoke of her -childhood, of her mother, her father, and her daydreams; and -Natasha, who with a passive lack of understanding had formerly -turned away from that life of devotion, submission, and the poetry -of Christian self-sacrifice, now feeling herself bound to Princess -Mary by affection, learned to love her past too and to understand a -side of life previously incomprehensible to her. She did not think -of applying submission and self-abnegation to her own life, for she -was accustomed to seek other joys, but she understood and loved in -another those previously incomprehensible virtues. For Princess -Mary, listening to Natasha's tales of childhood and early youth, there -also opened out a new and hitherto uncomprehended side of life: belief -in life and its enjoyment. - -Just as before, they never mentioned him so as not to lower (as they -thought) their exalted feelings by words; but this silence about him -had the effect of making them gradually begin to forget him without -being conscious of it. - -Natasha had grown thin and pale and physically so weak that they all -talked about her health, and this pleased her. But sometimes she was -suddenly overcome by fear not only of death but of sickness, weakness, -and loss of good looks, and involuntarily she examined her bare arm -carefully, surprised at its thinness, and in the morning noticed her -drawn and, as it seemed to her, piteous face in her glass. It seemed -to her that things must be so, and yet it was dreadfully sad. - -One day she went quickly upstairs and found herself out of breath. -Unconsciously she immediately invented a reason for going down, and -then, testing her strength, ran upstairs again, observing the result. - -Another time when she called Dunyasha her voice trembled, so she -called again- though she could hear Dunyasha coming- called her in the -deep chest tones in which she had been wont to sing, sing, and -listened attentively to herself. - -She did not know and would not have believed it, but beneath the -layer of slime that covered her soul and seemed to her impenetrable, -delicate young shoots of grass were already sprouting, which taking -root would so cover with their living verdure the grief that weighed -her down that it would soon no longer be seen or noticed. The wound -had begun to heal from within. - -At the end of January Princess Mary left for Moscow, and the count -insisted on Natasha's going with her to consult the doctors. - -CHAPTER IV - -After the encounter at Vyazma, where Kutuzov had been unable to hold -back his troops in their anxiety to overwhelm and cut off the enemy -and so on, the farther movement of the fleeing French, and of the -Russians who pursued them, continued as far as Krasnoe without a -battle. The flight was so rapid that the Russian army pursuing the -French could not keep up with them; cavalry and artillery horses broke -down, and the information received of the movements of the French -was never reliable. - -The men in the Russian army were so worn out by this continuous -marching at the rate of twenty-seven miles a day that they could not -go any faster. - -To realize the degree of exhaustion of the Russian army it is only -necessary to grasp clearly the meaning of the fact that, while not -losing more than five thousand killed and wounded after Tarutino and -less than a hundred prisoners, the Russian army which left that -place a hundred thousand strong reached Krasnoe with only fifty -thousand. - -The rapidity of the Russian pursuit was just as destructive to our -army as the flight of the French was to theirs. The only difference -was that the Russian army moved voluntarily, with no such threat of -destruction as hung over the French, and that the sick Frenchmen -were left behind in enemy hands while the sick Russians left behind -were among their own people. The chief cause of the wastage of -Napoleon's army was the rapidity of its movement, and a convincing -proof of this is the corresponding decrease of the Russian army. - -Kutuzov as far as was in his power, instead of trying to check the -movement of the French as was desired in Petersburg and by the Russian -army generals, directed his whole activity here, as he had done at -Tarutino and Vyazma, to hastening it on while easing the movement of -our army. - -But besides this, since the exhaustion and enormous diminution of -the army caused by the rapidity of the advance had become evident, -another reason for slackening the pace and delaying presented itself -to Kutuzov. The aim of the Russian army was to pursue the French. -The road the French would take was unknown, and so the closer our -troops trod on their heels the greater distance they had to cover. -Only by following at some distance could one cut across the zigzag -path of the French. All the artful maneuvers suggested by our generals -meant fresh movements of the army and a lengthening of its marches, -whereas the only reasonable aim was to shorten those marches. To -that end Kutuzov's activity was directed during the whole campaign -from Moscow to Vilna- not casually or intermittently but so -consistently that he never once deviated from it. - -Kutuzov felt and knew- not by reasoning or science but with the -whole of his Russian being- what every Russian soldier felt: that -the French were beaten, that the enemy was flying and must be driven -out; but at the same time he like the soldiers realized all the -hardship of this march, the rapidity of which was unparalleled for -such a time of the year. - -But to the generals, especially the foreign ones in the Russian -army, who wished to distinguish themselves, to astonish somebody, -and for some reason to capture a king or a duke- it seemed that now- -when any battle must be horrible and senseless- was the very time to -fight and conquer somebody. Kutuzov merely shrugged his shoulders when -one after another they presented projects of maneuvers to be made with -those soldiers- ill-shod, insufficiently clad, and half starved- who -within a month and without fighting a battle had dwindled to half -their number, and who at the best if the flight continued would have -to go a greater distance than they had already traversed, before -they reached the frontier. - -This longing to distinguish themselves, to maneuver, to overthrow, -and to cut off showed itself particularly whenever the Russians -stumbled on the French army. - -So it was at Krasnoe, where they expected to find one of the three -French columns and stumbled instead on Napoleon himself with sixteen -thousand men. Despite all Kutuzov's efforts to avoid that ruinous -encounter and to preserve his troops, the massacre of the broken mob -of French soldiers by worn-out Russians continued at Krasnoe for three -days. - -Toll wrote a disposition: "The first column will march to so and -so," etc. And as usual nothing happened in accord with the -disposition. Prince Eugene of Wurttemberg fired from a hill over the -French crowds that were running past, and demanded reinforcements -which did not arrive. The French, avoiding the Russians, dispersed and -hid themselves in the forest by night, making their way round as -best they could, and continued their flight. - -Miloradovich, who said he did not want to know anything about the -commissariat affairs of his detachment, and could never be found -when he was wanted- that chevalier sans peur et sans reproche~{ Knight without fear and without reproach. }~ as he -styled himself- who was fond of parleys with the French, sent envoys -demanding their surrender, wasted time, and did not do what he was -ordered to do. - -"I give you that column, lads," he said, riding up to the troops and -pointing out the French to the cavalry. - -And the cavalry, with spurs and sabers urging on horses that could -scarcely move, trotted with much effort to the column presented to -them- that is to say, to a crowd of Frenchmen stark with cold, -frost-bitten, and starving- and the column that had been presented -to them threw down its arms and surrendered as it had long been -anxious to do. - -At Krasnoe they took twenty-six thousand prisoners, several -hundred cannon, and a stick called a "marshal's staff," and disputed -as to who had distinguished himself and were pleased with their -achievement- though they much regretted not having taken Napoleon, -or at least a marshal or a hero of some sort, and reproached one -another and especially Kutuzov for having failed to do so. - -These men, carried away by their passions, were but blind tools of -the most melancholy law of necessity, but considered themselves heroes -and imagined that they were accomplishing a most noble and honorable -deed. They blamed Kutuzov and said that from the very beginning of the -campaign he had prevented their vanquishing Napoleon, that he -thought nothing but satisfying his passions and would not advance from -the Linen Factories because he was comfortable there, that at -Krasnoe he checked the advance because on learning that Napoleon was -there he had quite lost his head, and that it was probable that he had -an understanding with Napoleon and had been bribed by him, and so -on, and so on. - -Not only did his contempories, carried away by their passions, -talk in this way, but posterity and history have acclaimed Napoleon as -grand, while Kutuzov is described by foreigners as a crafty, -dissolute, weak old courtier, and by Russians as something indefinite- -a sort of puppet useful only because he had a Russian name. - -CHAPTER V - -In 1812 and 1813 Kutuzov was openly accused of blundering. The -Emperor was dissatisfied with him. And in a history recently written -by order of the Highest Authorities it is said that Kutuzov was a -cunning court liar, frightened of the name of Napoleon, and that by -his blunders at Krasnoe and the Berezina he deprived the Russian -army of the glory of complete victory over the French.~{ History of the year 1812. The character of Kutuzov and -reflections on the unsatisfactory results of the battles at Krasnoe, -by Bogdanovich. }~ - -Such is the fate not of great men (grands hommes) whom the Russian -mind does not acknowledge, but of those rare and always solitary -individuals who, discerning the will of Providence, submit their -personal will to it. The hatred and contempt of the crowd punish -such men for discerning the higher laws. - -For Russian historians, strange and terrible to say, Napoleon- -that most insignificant tool of history who never anywhere, even in -exile, showed human dignity- Napoleon is the object of adulation and -enthusiasm; he is grand. But Kutuzov- the man who from the beginning -to the end of his activity in 1812, never once swerving by word or -deed from Borodino to Vilna, presented an example exceptional in -history of self-sacrifice and a present conciousness of the future -importance of what was happening- Kutuzov seems to them something -indefinite and pitiful, and when speaking of him and of the year -1812 they always seem a little ashamed. - -And yet it is difficult to imagine an historical character whose -activity was so unswervingly directed to a single aim; and it would be -difficult to imagine any aim more worthy or more consonant with the -will of the whole people. Still more difficult would it be to find -an instance in history of the aim of an historical personage being -so completely accomplished as that to which all Kutuzov's efforts were -directed in 1812. - -Kutuzov never talked of "forty centuries looking down from the -Pyramids," of the sacrifices he offered for the fatherland, or of what -he intended to accomplish or had accomplished; in general he said -nothing about himself, adopted no prose, always appeared to be the -simplest and most ordinary of men, and said the simplest and most -ordinary things. He wrote letters to his daughters and to Madame de -Stael, read novels, liked the society of pretty women, jested with -generals, officers, and soldiers, and never contradicted those who -tried to prove anything to him. When Count Rostopchin at the Yauza -bridge galloped up to Kutuzov with personal reproaches for having -caused the destruction of Moscow, and said: "How was it you promised -not to abandon Moscow without a battle?" Kutuzov replied: "And I shall -not abandon Moscow without a battle," though Moscow was then already -abandoned. When Arakcheev, coming to him from the Emperor, said that -Ermolov ought to be appointed chief of the artillery, Kutuzov replied: -"Yes, I was just saying so myself," though a moment before he had said -quite the contrary. What did it matter to him- who then alone amid a -senseless crowd understood the whole tremendous significance of what -was happening- what did it matter to him whether Rostopchin attributed -the calamities of Moscow to him or to himself? Still less could it -matter to him who was appointed chief of the artillery. - -Not merely in these cases but continually did that old man- who by -experience of life had reached the conviction that thoughts and the -words serving as their expression are not what move people- use -quite meaningless words that happened to enter his head. - -But that man, so heedless of his words, did not once during the -whole time of his activity utter one word inconsistent with the single -aim toward which he moved throughout the whole war. Obviously in spite -of himself, in very diverse circumstances, he repeatedly expressed his -real thoughts with the bitter conviction that he would not be -understood. Beginning with the battle of Borodino, from which time his -disagreement with those about him began, he alone said that the battle -of Borodino was a victory, and repeated this both verbally and in -his dispatches and reports up to the time of his death. He alone -said that the loss of Moscow is not the loss of Russia. In reply to -Lauriston's proposal of peace, he said: There can be no peace, for -such is the people's will. He alone during the retreat of the French -said that all our maneuvers are useless, everything is being -accomplished of itself better than we could desire; that the enemy -must be offered "a golden bridge"; that neither the Tarutino, the -Vyazma, nor the Krasnoe battles were necessary; that we must keep some -force to reach the frontier with, and that he would not sacrifice a -single Russian for ten Frenchmen. - -And this courtier, as he is described to us, who lies to Arakcheev -to please the Emperor, he alone- incurring thereby the Emperor's -displeasure- said in Vilna that to carry the war beyond the frontier -is useless and harmful. - -Nor do words alone prove that only he understood the meaning of -the events. His actions- without the smallest deviation- were all -directed to one and the same threefold end: (1) to brace all his -strength for conflict with the French, (2) to defeat them, and (3) -to drive them out of Russia, minimizing as far as possible the -sufferings of our people and of our army. - -This procrastinator Kutuzov, whose motto was "Patience and Time," -this enemy of decisive action, gave battle at Borodino, investing -the preparations for it with unparalleled solemnity. This Kutuzov -who before the battle of Austerlitz began said that it would be -lost, he alone, in contradiction to everyone else, declared till his -death that Borodino was a victory, despite the assurance of generals -that the battle was lost and despite the fact that for an army to have -to retire after winning a battle was unprecedented. He alone during -the whole retreat insisted that battles, which were useless then, -should not be fought, and that a new war should not be begun nor the -frontiers of Russia crossed. - -It is easy now to understand the significance of these events- if -only we abstain from attributing to the activity of the mass aims that -existed only in the heads of a dozen individuals- for the events and -results now lie before us. - -But how did that old man, alone, in opposition to the general -opinion, so truly discern the importance of the people's view of the -events that in all his activity he was never once untrue to it? - -The source of that extraordinary power of penetrating the meaning of -the events then occuring lay in the national feeling which he -possessed in full purity and strength. - -Only the recognition of the fact that he possessed this feeling -caused the people in so strange a manner, contrary to the Tsar's wish, -to select him- an old man in disfavor- to be their representative in -the national war. And only that feeling placed him on that highest -human pedestal from which he, the commander in chief, devoted all -his powers not to slaying and destroying men but to saving and showing -pity on them. - -That simple, modest, and therefore truly great, figure could not -be cast in the false mold of a European hero- the supposed ruler of -men- that history has invented. - -To a lackey no man can be great, for a lackey has his own conception -of greatness. - -CHAPTER VI - -The fifth of November was the first day of what is called the battle -of Krasnoe. Toward evening- after much disputing and many mistakes -made by generals who did not go to their proper places, and after -adjutants had been sent about with counterorders- when it had become -plain that the enemy was everywhere in flight and that there could and -would be no battle, Kutuzov left Krasnoe and went to Dobroe whither -his headquarters had that day been transferred. - -The day was clear and frosty. Kutuzov rode to Dobroe on his plump -little white horse, followed by an enormous suite of discontented -generals who whispered among themselves behind his back. All along the -road groups of French prisoners captured that day (there were seven -thousand of them) were crowding to warm themselves at campfires. -Near Dobroe an immense crowd of tattered prisoners, buzzing with -talk and wrapped and bandaged in anything they had been able to get -hold of, were standing in the road beside a long row of unharnessed -French guns. At the approach of the commander in chief the buzz of -talk ceased and all eyes were fixed on Kutuzov who, wearing a white -cap with a red band and a padded overcoat that bulged on his round -shoulders, moved slowly along the road on his white horse. One of -the generals was reporting to him where the guns and prisoners had -been captured. - -Kutuzov seemed preoccupied and did not listen to what the general -was saying. He screwed up his eyes with a dissatisfied look as he -gazed attentively and fixedly at these prisoners, who presented a -specially wretched appearance. Most of them were disfigured by -frost-bitten noses and cheeks, and nearly all had red, swollen and -festering eyes. - -One group of the French stood close to the road, and two of them, -one of whom had his face covered with sores, were tearing a piece of -raw flesh with their hands. There was something horrible and bestial -in the fleeting glance they threw at the riders and in the -malevolent expression with which, after a glance at Kutuzov, the -soldier with the sores immediately turned away and went on with what -he was doing. - -Kutuzov looked long and intently at these two soldiers. He -puckered his face, screwed up his eyes, and pensively swayed his head. -At another spot he noticed a Russian soldier laughingly patting a -Frenchman on the shoulder, saying something to him in a friendly -manner, and Kutuzov with the same expression on his face again -swayed his head. - -"What were you saying?" he asked the general, who continuing his -report directed the commander in chief's attention to some standards -captured from the French and standing in front of the Preobrazhensk -regiment. - -"Ah, the standards!" said Kutuzov, evidently detaching himself -with difficulty from the thoughts that preoccupied him. - -He looked about him absently. Thousands of eyes were looking at -him from all sides awaiting a word from him. - -He stopped in front of the Preobrazhensk regiment, sighed deeply, -and closed his eyes. One of his suite beckoned to the soldiers -carrying the standards to advance and surround the commander in -chief with them. Kutuzov was silent for a few seconds and then, -submitting with evident reluctance to the duty imposed by his -position, raised his head and began to speak. A throng of officers -surrounded him. He looked attentively around at the circle of -officers, recognizing several of them. - -"I thank you all!" he said, addressing the soldiers and then again -the officers. In the stillness around him his slowly uttered words -were distinctly heard. "I thank you all for your hard and faithful -service. The victory is complete and Russia will not forget you! Honor -to you forever." - -He paused and looked around. - -"Lower its head, lower it!" he said to a soldier who had -accidentally lowered the French eagle he was holding before the -Preobrazhensk standards. "Lower, lower, that's it. Hurrah lads!" he -added, addressing the men with a rapid movement of his chin. - -"Hur-r-rah!" roared thousands of voices. - -While the soldiers were shouting Kutuzov leaned forward in his -saddle and bowed his head, and his eye lit up with a mild and -apparently ironic gleam. - -"You see, brothers..." said he when the shouts had ceased... and all -at once his voice and the expression of his face changed. It was no -longer the commander in chief speaking but an ordinary old man who -wanted to tell his comrades something very important. - -There was a stir among the throng of officers and in the ranks of -the soldiers, who moved that they might hear better what he was -going to say. - -"You see, brothers, I know it's hard for you, but it can't be -helped! Bear up; it won't be for long now! We'll see our visitors -off and then we'll rest. The Tsar won't forget your service. It is -hard for you, but still you are at home while they- you see what -they have come to," said he, pointing to the prisoners. "Worse off -than our poorest beggars. While they were strong we didn't spare -ourselves, but now we may even pity them. They are human beings too. -Isn't it so, lads?" - -He looked around, and in the direct, respectful, wondering gaze -fixed upon him he read sympathy with what he had said. His face grew -brighter and brighter with an old man's mild smile, which drew the -corners of his lips and eyes into a cluster of wrinkles. He ceased -speaking and bowed his head as if in perplexity. - -"But after all who asked them here? Serves them right, the bloody -bastards!" he cried, suddenly lifting his head. - -And flourishing his whip he rode off at a gallop for the first -time during the whole campaign, and left the broken ranks of the -soldiers laughing joyfully and shouting "Hurrah!" - -Kutuzov's words were hardly understood by the troops. No one could -have repeated the field marshal's address, begun solemnly and then -changing into an old man's simplehearted talk; but the hearty -sincerity of that speech, the feeling of majestic triumph combined -with pity for the foe and consciousness of the justice of our cause, -exactly expressed by that old man's good-natured expletives, was not -merely understood but lay in the soul of every soldier and found -expression in their joyous and long-sustained shouts. Afterwards -when one of the generals addressed Kutuzov asking whether he wished -his caleche to be sent for, Kutuzov in answering unexpectedly gave a -sob, being evidently greatly moved. - -CHAPTER VII - -When the troops reached their night's halting place on the eighth of -November, the last day of the Krasnoe battles, it was already -growing dusk. All day it had been calm and frosty with occasional -lightly falling snow and toward evening it began to clear. Through the -falling snow a purple-black and starry sky showed itself and the frost -grew keener. - -An infantry regiment which had left Tarutino three thousand strong -but now numbered only nine hundred was one of the first to arrive that -night at its halting place- a village on the highroad. The -quartermasters who met the regiment announced that all the huts were -full of sick and dead Frenchmen, cavalrymen, and members of the staff. -There was only one hut available for the regimental commander. - -The commander rode up to his hut. The regiment passed through the -village and stacked its arms in front of the last huts. - -Like some huge many-limbed animal, the regiment began to prepare its -lair and its food. One part of it dispersed and waded knee-deep -through the snow into a birch forest to the right of the village, -and immediately the sound of axes and swords, the crashing of -branches, and merry voices could be heard from there. Another -section amid the regimental wagons and horses which were standing in a -group was busy getting out caldrons and rye biscuit, and feeding the -horses. A third section scattered through the village arranging -quarters for the staff officers, carrying out the French corpses -that were in the huts, and dragging away boards, dry wood, and -thatch from the roofs, for the campfires, or wattle fences to serve -for shelter. - -Some fifteen men with merry shouts were shaking down the high wattle -wall of a shed, the roof of which had already been removed. - -"Now then, all together- shove!" cried the voices, and the huge -surface of the wall, sprinkled with snow and creaking with frost, -was seen swaying in the gloom of the night. The lower stakes cracked -more and more and at last the wall fell, and with it the men who had -been pushing it. Loud, coarse laughter and joyous shouts ensued. - -"Now then, catch hold in twos! Hand up the lever! That's it... Where -are you shoving to?" - -"Now, all together! But wait a moment, boys... With a song!" - -All stood silent, and a soft, pleasant velvety voice began to -sing. At the end of the third verse as the last note died away, twenty -voices roared out at once: "Oo-oo-oo-oo! That's it. All together! -Heave away, boys!..." but despite their united efforts the wattle -hardly moved, and in the silence that followed the heavy breathing -of the men was audible. - -"Here, you of the Sixth Company! Devils that you are! Lend a hand... -will you? You may want us one of these days." - -Some twenty men of the Sixth Company who were on their way into -the village joined the haulers, and the wattle wall, which was about -thirty-five feet long an seven feet high, moved forward along the -village street, swaying, pressing upon and cutting the shoulders of -the gasping men. - -"Get along... Falling? What are you stopping for? There now..." - -Merry senseless words of abuse flowed freely. - -"What are you up to?" suddenly came the authoritative voice of a -sergeant major who came upon the men who were hauling their burden. -"There are gentry here; the general himself is in that hut, and you -foul-mouthed devils, you brutes, I'll give it to you!" shouted he, -hitting the first man who came in his way a swinging blow on the back. -"Can't you make less noise?" - -The men became silent. The soldier who had been struck groaned and -wiped his face, which had been scratched till it bled by his falling -against the wattle. - -"There, how that devil hits out! He's made my face all bloody," said -he in a frightened whisper when the sergeant major had passed on. - -"Don't you like it?" said a laughing voice, and moderating their -tones the men moved forward. - -When they were out of the village they began talking again as loud -as before, interlarding their talk with the same aimless expletives. - -In the hut which the men had passed, the chief officers had gathered -and were in animated talk over their tea about the events of the day -and the maneuvers suggested for tomorrow. It was proposed to make a -flank march to the left, cut off the Vice-King (Murat) and capture -him. - -By the time the soldiers had dragged the wattle fence to its place -the campfires were blazing on all sides ready for cooking, the wood -crackled, the snow was melting, and black shadows of soldiers -flitted to and fro all over the occupied space where the snow had been -trodden down. - -Axes and choppers were plied all around. Everything was done without -any orders being given. Stores of wood were brought for the night, -shelters were rigged up for the officers, caldrons were being -boiled, and muskets and accouterments put in order. - -The wattle wall the men had brought was set up in a semicircle by -the Eighth Company as a shelter from the north, propped up by musket -rests, and a campfire was built before it. They beat the tattoo, -called the roll, had supper, and settled down round the fires for -the night- some repairing their footgear, some smoking pipes, and some -stripping themselves naked to steam the lice out of their shirts. - -CHAPTER VIII - -One would have thought that under the almost incredibly wretched -conditions the Russian soldiers were in at that time- lacking warm -boots and sheepskin coats, without a roof over their heads, in the -snow with eighteen degrees of frost, and without even full rations -(the commissariat did not always keep up with the troops)- they -would have presented a very sad and depressing spectacle. - -On the contrary, the army had never under the best material -conditions presented a more cheerful and animated aspect. This was -because all who began to grow depressed or who lost strength were -sifted out of the army day by day. All the physically or morally -weak had long since been left behind and only the flower of the -army- physically and mentally- remained. - -More men collected behind the wattle fence of the Eighth Company -than anywhere else. Two sergeants major were sitting with them and -their campfire blazed brighter than others. For leave to sit by -their wattle they demanded contributions of fuel. - -"Eh, Makeev! What has become of you, you son of a bitch? Are you -lost or have the wolves eaten you? Fetch some more wood!" shouted a -red-haired and red-faced man, screwing up his eyes and blinking -because of the smoke but not moving back from the fire. "And you, -Jackdaw, go and fetch some wood!" said he to another soldier. - -This red-haired man was neither a sergeant nor a corporal, but being -robust he ordered about those weaker than himself. The soldier they -called "Jackdaw," a thin little fellow with a sharp nose, rose -obediently and was about to go but at that instant there came into the -light of the fire the slender, handsome figure of a young soldier -carrying a load of wood. - -"Bring it here- that's fine!" - -They split up the wood, pressed it down on the fire, blew at it with -their mouths, and fanned it with the skirts of their greatcoats, -making the flames hiss and crackle. The men drew nearer and lit -their pipes. The handsome young soldier who had brought the wood, -setting his arms akimbo, began stamping his cold feet rapidly and -deftly on the spot where he stood. - -"Mother! The dew is cold but clear.... It's well that I'm a -musketeer..." he sang, pretending to hiccough after each syllable. - -"Look out, your soles will fly off!" shouted the red-haired man, -noticing that the sole of the dancer's boot was hanging loose. "What a -fellow you are for dancing!" - -The dancer stopped, pulled off the loose piece of leather, and threw -it on the fire. - -"Right enough, friend," said he, and, having sat down, took out of -his knapsack a scrap of blue French cloth, and wrapped it round his -foot. "It's the steam that spoils them," he added, stretching out -his feet toward the fire. - -"They'll soon be issuing us new ones. They say that when we've -finished hammering them, we're to receive double kits!" - -"And that son of a bitch Petrov has lagged behind after all, it -seems," said one sergeant major. - -"I've had an eye on him this long while," said the other. - -"Well, he's a poor sort of soldier..." - -"But in the Third Company they say nine men were missing yesterday." - -"Yes, it's all very well, but when a man's feet are frozen how can -he walk?" - -"Eh? Don't talk nonsense!" said a sergeant major. - -"Do you want to be doing the same?" said an old soldier, turning -reproachfully to the man who had spoken of frozen feet. - -"Well, you know," said the sharp-nosed man they called Jackdaw in -a squeaky and unsteady voice, raising himself at the other side of the -fire, "a plump man gets thin, but for a thin one it's death. Take -me, now! I've got no strength left," he added, with sudden -resolution turning to the sergeant major. "Tell them to send me to -hospital; I'm aching all over; anyway I shan't be able to keep up." - -"That'll do, that'll do!" replied the sergeant major quietly. - -The soldier said no more and the talk went on. - -"What a lot of those Frenchies were taken today, and the fact is -that not one of them had what you might call real boots on," said a -soldier, starting a new theme. "They were no more than make-believes." - -"The Cossacks have taken their boots. They were clearing the hut for -the colonel and carried them out. It was pitiful to see them, boys," -put in the dancer. "As they turned them over one seemed still alive -and, would you believe it, he jabbered something in their lingo." - -"But they're a clean folk, lads," the first man went on; "he was -white- as white as birchbark- and some of them are such fine -fellows, you might think they were nobles." - -"Well, what do you think? They make soldiers of all classes there." - -"But they don't understand our talk at all," said the dancer with -a puzzled smile. "I asked him whose subject he was, and he jabbered in -his own way. A queer lot!" - -"But it's strange, friends," continued the man who had wondered at -their whiteness, "the peasants at Mozhaysk were saying that when -they began burying the dead- where the battle was you know- well, -those dead had been lying there for nearly a month, and says the -peasant, 'they lie as white as paper, clean, and not as much smell -as a puff of powder smoke.'" - -"Was it from the cold?" asked someone. - -"You're a clever fellow! From the cold indeed! Why, it was hot. If -it had been from the cold, ours would not have rotted either. 'But,' -he says, 'go up to ours and they are all rotten and maggoty. So,' he -says, 'we tie our faces up with kerchiefs and turn our heads away as -we drag them off: we can hardly do it. But theirs,' he says, 'are -white as paper and not so much smell as a whiff of gunpowder.'" - -All were silent. - -"It must be from their food," said the sergeant major. "They used to -gobble the same food as the gentry." - -No one contradicted him. - -"That peasant near Mozhaysk where the battle was said the men were -all called up from ten villages around and they carted for twenty days -and still didn't finish carting the dead away. And as for the -wolves, he says..." - -"That was a real battle," said an old soldier. "It's the only one -worth remembering; but since that... it's only been tormenting folk." - -"And do you know, Daddy, the day before yesterday we ran at them -and, my word, they didn't let us get near before they just threw -down their muskets and went on their knees. 'Pardon!' they say. That's -only one case. They say Platov took 'Poleon himself twice. But he -didn't know the right charm. He catches him and catches him- no -good! He turns into a bird in his hands and flies away. And there's no -way of killing him either." - -"You're a first-class liar, Kiselev, when I come to look at you!" - -"Liar, indeed! It's the real truth." - -"If he fell into my hands, when I'd caught him I'd bury him in the -ground with an aspen stake to fix him down. What a lot of men he's -ruined!" - -"Well, anyhow we're going to end it. He won't come here again," -remarked the old soldier, yawning. - -The conversation flagged, and the soldiers began settling down to -sleep. - -"Look at the stars. It's wonderful how they shine! You would think -the women had spread out their linen," said one of the men, gazing -with admiration at the Milky Way. - -"That's a sign of a good harvest next year." - -"We shall want some more wood." - -"You warm your back and your belly gets frozen. That's queer." - -"O Lord!" - -"What are you pushing for? Is the fire only for you? Look how he's -sprawling!" - -In the silence that ensued, the snoring of those who had fallen -asleep could be heard. Others turned over and warmed themselves, now -and again exchanging a few words. From a campfire a hundred paces -off came a sound of general, merry laughter. - -"Hark at them roaring there in the Fifth Company!" said one of the -soldiers, and what a lot of them there are!" - -One of the men got up and went over to the Fifth Company. - -"They're having such fun," said he, coming back. "Two Frenchies have -turned up. One's quite frozen and the other's an awful swaggerer. He's -singing songs...." - -"Oh, I'll go across and have a look...." - -And several of the men went over to the Fifth Company. - -CHAPTER IX - -The fifth company was bivouacking at the very edge of the forest. -A huge campfire was blazing brightly in the midst of the snow, -lighting up the branches of trees heavy with hoarfrost. - -About midnight they heard the sound of steps in the snow of the -forest, and the crackling of dry branches. - -"A bear, lads," said one of the men. - -They all raised their heads to listen, and out of the forest into -the bright firelight stepped two strangely clad human figures clinging -to one another. - -These were two Frenchmen who had been hiding in the forest. They -came up to the fire, hoarsely uttering something in a language our -soldiers did not understand. One was taller than the other; he wore an -officer's hat and seemed quite exhausted. On approaching the fire he -had been going to sit down, but fell. The other, a short sturdy -soldier with a shawl tied round his head, was stronger. He raised -his companion and said something, pointing to his mouth. The -soldiers surrounded the Frenchmen, spread a greatcoat on the ground -for the sick man, and brought some buckwheat porridge and vodka for -both of them. - -The exhausted French officer was Ramballe and the man with his -head wrapped in the shawl was Morel, his orderly. - -When Morel had drunk some vodka and finished his bowl of porridge he -suddenly became unnaturally merry and chattered incessantly to the -soldiers, who could not understand him. Ramballe refused food and -resting his head on his elbow lay silent beside the campfire, -looking at the Russian soldiers with red and vacant eyes. Occasionally -he emitted a long-drawn groan and then again became silent. Morel, -pointing to his shoulders, tried to impress on the soldiers the fact -that Ramballe was an officer and ought to be warmed. A Russian officer -who had come up to the fire sent to ask his colonel whether he would -not take a French officer into his hut to warm him, and when the -messenger returned and said that the colonel wished the officer to -be brought to him, Ramballe was told to go. He rose and tried to walk, -but staggered and would have fallen had not a soldier standing by held -him up. - -"You won't do it again, eh?" said one of the soldiers, winking and -turning mockingly to Ramballe. - -"Oh, you fool! Why talk rubbish, lout that you are- a real peasant!" -came rebukes from all sides addressed to the jesting soldier. - -They surrounded Ramballe, lifted him on the crossed arms of two -soldiers, and carried him to the hut. Ramballe put his arms around -their necks while they carried him and began wailing plaintively: - -"Oh, you fine fellows, my kind, kind friends! These are men! Oh, -my brave, kind friends," and he leaned his head against the shoulder -of one of the men like a child. - -Meanwhile Morel was sitting in the best place by the fire, -surrounded by the soldiers. - -Morel, a short sturdy Frenchman with inflamed and streaming eyes, -was wearing a woman's cloak and had a shawl tied woman fashion round -his head over his cap. He was evidently tipsy, and was singing a -French song in a hoarse broken voice, with an arm thrown round the -nearest soldier. The soldiers simply held their sides as they -watched him. - -"Now then, now then, teach us how it goes! I'll soon pick it up. How -is it?" said the man- a singer and a wag- whom Morel was embracing. - -"Vive Henri Quatre! Vive ce roi valiant!" sang Morel, winking. "Ce -diable a quatre..."~{ "Long live Henry the Fourth, that valiant king! That rowdy devil." }~ - -"Vivarika! Vif-seruvaru! Sedyablyaka!" repeated the soldier, -flourishing his arm and really catching the tune. - -"Bravo! Ha, ha, ha!" rose their rough, joyous laughter from all -sides. - -Morel, wrinkling up his face, laughed too. - -"Well, go on, go on!" - -``` block - "Qui eut le triple talent, -De boire, de battre, -Et d'etre un vert galant."~{ Who had a triple talent }~ -``` - -_1 For drinking, for fighting, - -_1 And for being a gallant old boy... - -"It goes smoothly, too. Well, now, Zaletaev!" - -"Ke..." Zaletaev, brought out with effort: "ke-e-e-e," he drawled, -laboriously pursing his lips, "le-trip-ta-la-de-bu-de-ba, e -de-tra-va-ga-la " he sang. - -"Fine! Just like the Frenchie! Oh, ho ho! Do you want some more to -eat?" - -"Give him some porridge: it takes a long time to get filled up after -starving." - -They gave him some more porridge and Morel with a laugh set to -work on his third bowl. All the young soldiers smiled gaily as they -watched him. The older men, who thought it undignified to amuse -themselves with such nonsense, continued to lie at the opposite side -of the fire, but one would occasionally raise himself on an elbow -and glance at Morel with a smile. - -"They are men too," said one of them as he wrapped himself up in his -coat. "Even wormwood grows on its own root." - -"O Lord, O Lord! How starry it is! Tremendous! That means a hard -frost...." - -They all grew silent. The stars, as if knowing that no one was -looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now -flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering -something gladsome and mysterious to one another. - -CHAPTER X - -The French army melted away at the uniform rate of a mathematical -progression; and that crossing of the Berezina about which so much has -been written was only one intermediate stage in its destruction, and -not at all the decisive episode of the campaign. If so much has been -and still is written about the Berezina, on the French side this is -only because at the broken bridge across that river the calamities -their army had been previously enduring were suddenly concentrated -at one moment into a tragic spectacle that remained in every memory, -and on the Russian side merely because in Petersburg- far from the -seat of war- a plan (again one of Pfuel's) had been devised to catch -Napoleon in a strategic trap at the Berezina River. Everyone assured -himself that all would happen according to plan, and therefore -insisted that it was just the crossing of the Berezina that -destroyed the French army. In reality the results of the crossing were -much less disastrous to the French- in guns and men lost- than Krasnoe -had been, as the figures show. - -The sole importance of the crossing of the Berezina lies in the fact -that it plainly and indubitably proved the fallacy of all the plans -for cutting off the enemy's retreat and the soundness of the only -possible line of action- the one Kutuzov and the general mass of the -army demanded- namely, simply to follow the enemy up. The French crowd -fled at a continually increasing speed and all its energy was directed -to reaching its goal. It fled like a wounded animal and it was -impossible to block its path. This was shown not so much by the -arrangements it made for crossing as by what took place at the -bridges. When the bridges broke down, unarmed soldiers, people from -Moscow and women with children who were with the French transport, -all- carried on by vis inertiae- pressed forward into boats and into -the ice-covered water and did not, surrender. - -That impulse was reasonable. The condition of fugitives and of -pursuers was equally bad. As long as they remained with their own -people each might hope for help from his fellows and the definite -place he held among them. But those who surrendered, while remaining -in the same pitiful plight, would be on a lower level to claim a share -in the necessities of life. The French did not need to be informed -of the fact that half the prisoners- with whom the Russians did not -know what to do- perished of cold and hunger despite their captors' -desire to save them; they felt that it could not be otherwise. The -most compassionate Russian commanders, those favorable to the -French- and even the Frenchmen in the Russian service- could do -nothing for the prisoners. The French perished from the conditions -to which the Russian army was itself exposed. It was impossible to -take bread and clothes from our hungry and indispensable soldiers to -give to the French who, though not harmful, or hated, or guilty, -were simply unnecessary. Some Russians even did that, but they were -exceptions. - -Certain destruction lay behind the French but in front there was -hope. Their ships had been burned, there was no salvation save in -collective flight, and on that the whole strength of the French was -concentrated. - -The farther they fled the more wretched became the plight of the -remnant, especially after the Berezina, on which (in consequence of -the Petersburg plan) special hopes had been placed by the Russians, -and the keener grew the passions of the Russian commanders, blamed one -another and Kutuzov most of all. Anticipation that the failure of -the Petersburg Berezina plan would be attributed to Kutuzov led to -dissatisfaction, contempt, and ridicule, more and more strongly -expressed. The ridicule and contempt were of course expressed in a -respectful form, making it impossible for him to ask wherein he was to -blame. They did not talk seriously to him; when reporting to him or -asking for his sanction they appeared to be fulfilling a regrettable -formality, but they winked behind his back and tried to mislead him at -every turn. - -Because they could not understand him all these people assumed -that it was useless to talk to the old man; that he would never -grasp the profundity of their plans, that he would answer with his -phrases (which they thought were mere phrases) about a "golden -bridge," about the impossibility of crossing the frontier with a crowd -of tatterdemalions, and so forth. They had heard all that before. -And all he said- that it was necessary to await provisions, or that -the men had no boots- was so simple, while what they proposed was so -complicated and clever, that it was evident that he was old and stupid -and that they, though not in power, were commanders of genius. - -After the junction with the army of the brilliant admiral and -Petersburg hero Wittgenstein, this mood and the gossip of the staff -reached their maximum. Kutuzov saw this and merely sighed and shrugged -his shoulders. Only once, after the affair of the Berezina, did he get -angry and write to Bennigsen (who reported separately to the -Emperor) the following letter: - -"On account of your spells of ill health, will your excellency -please be so good as to set off for Kaluga on receipt of this, and -there await further commands and appointments from His Imperial -Majesty." - -But after Bennigsen's departure, the Grand Duke Tsarevich -Constantine Pavlovich joined the army. He had taken part in the -beginning of the campaign but had subsequently been removed from the -army by Kutuzov. Now having come to the army, he informed Kutuzov of -the Emperor's displeasure at the poor success of our forces and the -slowness of their advance. The Emperor intended to join the army -personally in a few days' time. - -The old man, experienced in court as well as in military affairs- -this same Kutuzov who in August had been chosen commander in chief -against the sovereign's wishes and who had removed the Grand Duke -and heir- apparent from the army- who on his own authority and -contrary to the Emperor's will had decided on the abandonment of -Moscow, now realized at once that his day was over, that his part -was played, and that the power he was supposed to hold was no longer -his. And he understood this not merely from the attitude of the court. -He saw on the one hand that the military business in which he had -played his part was ended and felt that his mission was -accomplished; and at the same time he began to be conscious of the -physical weariness of his aged body and of the necessity of physical -rest. - -On the twenty-ninth of November Kutuzov entered Vilna- his "dear -Vilna" as he called it. Twice during his career Kutuzov had been -governor of Vilna. In that wealthy town, which had not been injured, -he found old friends and associations, besides the comforts of life of -which he had so long been deprived. And he suddenly turned from the -cares of army and state and, as far as the passions that seethed -around him allowed, immersed himself in the quiet life to which he had -formerly been accustomed, as if all that was taking place and all that -had still to be done in the realm of history did not concern him at -all. - -Chichagov, one of the most zealous "cutters-off" and -"breakers-up," who had first wanted to effect a diversion in Greece -and then in Warsaw but never wished to go where he was sent: -Chichagov, noted for the boldness with which he spoke to the -Emperor, and who considered Kutuzov to be under an obligation to him -because when he was sent to make peace with Turkey in 1811 -independently of Kutuzov, and found that peace had already been -concluded, he admitted to the Emperor that the merit of securing -that peace was really Kutuzov's; this Chichagov was the first to -meet Kutuzov at the castle where the latter was to stay. In undress -naval uniform, with a dirk, and holding his cap under his arm, he -handed Kutuzov a garrison report and the keys of the town. The -contemptuously respectful attitude of the younger men to the old man -in his dotage was expressed in the highest degree by the behavior of -Chichagov, who knew of the accusations that were being directed -against Kutuzov. - -When speaking to Chichagov, Kutuzov incidentally mentioned that -the vehicles packed with china that had been captured from him at -Borisov had been recovered and would be restored to him. - -"You mean to imply that I have nothing to eat out of.... On the -contrary, I can supply you with everything even if you want to give -dinner parties," warmly replied Chichagov, who tried by every word -he spoke to prove his own rectitude and therefore imagined Kutuzov -to be animated by the same desire. - -Kutuzov, shrugging his shoulders, replied with his subtle -penetrating smile: "I meant merely to say what I said." - -Contrary to the Emperor's wish Kutuzov detained the greater part -of the army at Vilna. Those about him said that he became -extraordinarily slack and physically feeble during his stay in that -town. He attended to army affairs reluctantly, left everything to -his generals, and while awaiting the Emperor's arrival led a -dissipated life. - -Having left Petersburg on the seventh of December with his suite- -Count Tolstoy, Prince Volkonski, Arakcheev, and others- the Emperor -reached Vilna on the eleventh, and in his traveling sleigh drove -straight to the castle. In spite of the severe frost some hundred -generals and staff officers in full parade uniform stood in front of -the castle, as well as a guard of honor of the Semenov regiment. - -A courier who galloped to the castle in advance, in a troyka with -three foam-flecked horses, shouted "Coming!" and Konovnitsyn rushed -into the vestibule to inform Kutuzov, who was waiting in the hall -porter's little lodge. - -A minute later the old man's large stout figure in full-dress -uniform, his chest covered with orders and a scarf drawn round his -stomach, waddled out into the porch. He put on his hat with its -peaks to the sides and, holding his gloves in his hand and walking -with an effort sideways down the steps to the level of the street, -took in his hand the report he had prepared for the Emperor. - -There was running to and fro and whispering; another troyka -furiously up, and then all eyes were turned on an approaching sleigh -in which the figures of the Emperor and Volkonski could already be -descried. - -From the habit of fifty years all this had a physically agitating -effect on the old general. He carefully and hastily felt himself all -over, readjusted his hat, and pulling himself together drew himself up -and, at the very moment when the Emperor, having alighted from the -sleigh, lifted his eyes to him, handed him the report and began -speaking in his smooth, ingratiating voice. - -The Emperor with a rapid glance scanned Kutuzov from head to foot, -frowned for an instant, but immediately mastering himself went up to -the old man, extended his arms and embraced him. And this embrace too, -owing to a long-standing impression related to his innermost feelings, -had its usual effect on Kutuzov and he gave a sob. - -The Emperor greeted the officers and the Semenov guard, and again -pressing the old man's hand went with him into the castle. - -When alone with the field marshal the Emperor expressed his -dissatisfaction at the slowness of the pursuit and at the mistakes -made at Krasnoe and the Berezina, and informed him of his intentions -for a future campaign abroad. Kutuzov made no rejoinder or remark. The -same submissive, expressionless look with which he had listened to the -Emperor's commands on the field of Austerlitz seven years before -settled on his face now. - -When Kutuzov came out of the study and with lowered head was -crossing the ballroom with his heavy waddling gait, he was arrested by -someone's voice saying: - -"Your Serene Highness!" - -Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of -Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which -lay a small object. Kutuzov seemed not to understand what was expected -of him. - -Suddenly he seemed to remember; a scarcely perceptible smile flashed -across his puffy face, and bowing low and respectfully he took the -object that lay on the salver. It was the Order of St. George of the -First Class. - -CHAPTER XI - -Next day the field marshal gave a dinner and ball which the -Emperor honored by his presence. Kutuzov had received the Order of St. -George of the First Class and the Emperor showed him the highest -honors, but everyone knew of the imperial dissatisfaction with him. -The proprieties were observed and the Emperor was the first to set -that example, but everybody understood that the old man was -blameworthy and good-for-nothing. When Kutuzov, conforming to a custom -of Catherine's day, ordered the standards that had been captured to be -lowered at the Emperor's feet on his entering the ballroom, the -Emperor made a wry face and muttered something in which some people -caught the words, "the old comedian." - -The Emperor's displeasure with Kutuzov was specially increased at -Vilna by the fact that Kutuzov evidently could not or would not -understand the importance of the coming campaign. - -When on the following morning the Emperor said to the officers -assembled about him: "You have not only saved Russia, you have saved -Europe!" they all understood that the war was not ended. - -Kutuzov alone would not see this and openly expressed his opinion -that no fresh war could improve the position or add to the glory of -Russia, but could only spoil and lower the glorious position that -Russia had gained. He tried to prove to the Emperor the -impossibility of levying fresh troops, spoke of the hardships -already endured by the people, of the possibility of failure and so -forth. - -This being the field marshal's frame of mind he was naturally -regarded as merely a hindrance and obstacle to the impending war. - -To avoid unpleasant encounters with the old man, the natural -method was to do what had been done with him at Austerlitz and with -Barclay at the beginning of the Russian campaign- to transfer the -authority to the Emperor himself, thus cutting the ground from under -the commander in chief's feet without upsetting the old man by -informing him of the change. - -With this object his staff was gradually reconstructed and its -real strength removed and transferred to the Emperor. Toll, -Konovnitsyn, and Ermolov received fresh appointments. Everyone spoke -loudly of the field marshal's great weakness and failing health. - -His health had to be bad for his place to be taken away and given to -another. And in fact his health was poor. - -So naturally, simply, and gradually- just as he had come from Turkey -to the Treasury in Petersburg to recruit the militia, and then to -the army when he was needed there- now when his part was played out, -Kutuzov's place was taken by a new and necessary performer. - -The war 1812, besides its national significance dear to every -Russian heart, was now to assume another, a European, significance. - -The movement of peoples from west to east was to be succeeded by a -movement of peoples from east to west, and for this fresh war -another leader was necessary, having qualities and views differing -from Kutuzov's and animated by different motives. - -Alexander I was as necessary for the movement of the peoples from -east to west and for the refixing of national frontiers as Kutuzov had -been for the salvation and glory of Russia. - -Kutuzov did not understand what Europe, the balance of power, or -Napoleon meant. He could not understand it. For the representative -of the Russian people, after the enemy had been destroyed and Russia -had been liberated and raised to the summit of her glory, there was -nothing left to do as a Russian. Nothing remained for the -representative of the national war but to die, and Kutuzov died. - -CHAPTER XII - -As generally happens, Pierre did not feel the full effects of the -physical privation and strain he had suffered as prisoner until -after they were over. After his liberation he reached Orel, and on the -third day there, when preparing to go to Kiev, he fell ill and was -laid up for three months. He had what the doctors termed "bilious -fever." But despite the fact that the doctors treated him, bled him, -and gave him medicines to drink, he recovered. - -Scarcely any impression was left on Pierre's mind by all that -happened to him from the time of his rescue till his illness. He -remembered only the dull gray weather now rainy and now snowy, -internal physical distress, and pains in his feet and side. He -remembered a general impression of the misfortunes and sufferings of -people and of being worried by the curiosity of officers and -generals who questioned him, he also remembered his difficulty in -procuring a conveyance and horses, and above all he remembered his -incapacity to think and feel all that time. On the day of his rescue -he had seen the body of Petya Rostov. That same day he had learned -that Prince Andrew, after surviving the battle of Borodino for more -than a month had recently died in the Rostovs' house at Yaroslavl, and -Denisov who told him this news also mentioned Helene's death, -supposing that Pierre had heard of it long before. All this at the -time seemed merely strange to Pierre: he felt he could not grasp its -significance. Just then he was only anxious to get away as quickly -as possible from places where people were killing one another, to some -peaceful refuge where he could recover himself, rest, and think over -all the strange new facts he had learned; but on reaching Orel he -immediately fell ill. When he came to himself after his illness he saw -in attendance on him two of his servants, Terenty and Vaska, who had -come from Moscow; and also his cousin the eldest princess, who had -been living on his estate at Elets and hearing of his rescue and -illness had come to look after him. - -It was only gradually during his convalescence that Pierre lost -the impressions he had become accustomed to during the last few months -and got used to the idea that no one would oblige him to go anywhere -tomorrow, that no one would deprive him of his warm bed, and that he -would be sure to get his dinner, tea, and supper. But for a long -time in his dreams he still saw himself in the conditions of -captivity. In the same way little by little he came to understand -the news he had been told after his rescue, about the death of -Prince Andrew, the death of his wife, and the destruction of the -French. - -A joyous feeling of freedom- that complete inalienable freedom -natural to man which he had first experienced at the first halt -outside Moscow- filled Pierre's soul during his convalescence. He -was surprised to find that this inner freedom, which was independent -of external conditions, now had as it were an additional setting of -external liberty. He was alone in a strange town, without -acquaintances. No one demanded anything of him or sent him anywhere. -He had all he wanted: the thought of his wife which had been a -continual torment to him was no longer there, since she was no more. - -"Oh, how good! How splendid!" said he to himself when a cleanly laid -table was moved up to him with savory beef tea, or when he lay down -for the night on a soft clean bed, or when he remembered that the -French had gone and that his wife was no more. "Oh, how good, how -splendid!" - -And by old habit he asked himself the question: "Well, and what -then? What am I going to do?" And he immediately gave himself the -answer: "Well, I shall live. Ah, how splendid!" - -The very question that had formerly tormented him, the thing he -had continually sought to find- the aim of life- no longer existed for -him now. That search for the aim of life had not merely disappeared -temporarily- he felt that it no longer existed for him and could not -present itself again. And this very absence of an aim gave him the -complete, joyous sense of freedom which constituted his happiness at -this time. - -He could not see an aim, for he now had faith- not faith in any kind -of rule, or words, or ideas, but faith in an ever-living, -ever-manifest God. Formerly he had sought Him in aims he set -himself. That search for an aim had been simply a search for God, -and suddenly in his captivity he had learned not by words or reasoning -but by direct feeling what his nurse had told him long ago: that God -is here and everywhere. In his captivity he had learned that in -Karataev God was greater, more infinite and unfathomable than in the -Architect of the Universe recognized by the Freemasons. He felt like a -man who after straining his eyes to see into the far distance finds -what he sought at his very feet. All his life he had looked over the -heads of the men around him, when he should have merely looked in -front of him without straining his eyes. - -In the past he had never been able to find that great inscrutable -infinite something. He had only felt that it must exist somewhere -and had looked for it. In everything near and comprehensible he had -only what was limited, petty, commonplace, and senseless. He had -equipped himself with a mental telescope and looked into remote space, -where petty worldliness hiding itself in misty distance had seemed -to him great and infinite merely because it was not clearly seen. -And such had European life, politics, Freemasonry, philosophy, and -philanthropy seemed to him. But even then, at moments of weakness as -he had accounted them, his mind had penetrated to those distances -and he had there seen the same pettiness, worldliness, and -senselessness. Now, however, he had learned to see the great, eternal, -and infinite in everything, and therefore- to see it and enjoy its -contemplation- he naturally threw away the telescope through which -he had till now gazed over men's heads, and gladly regarded the -ever-changing, eternally great, unfathomable, and infinite life around -him. And the closer he looked the more tranquil and happy he became. -That dreadful question, "What for?" which had formerly destroyed all -his mental edifices, no longer existed for him. To that question, -"What for?" a simple answer was now always ready in his soul: "Because -there is a God, that God without whose will not one hair falls from -a man's head." - -CHAPTER XIII - -In external ways Pierre had hardly changed at all. In appearance -he was just what he used to be. As before he was absent-minded and -seemed occupied not with what was before his eyes but with something -special of his own. The difference between his former and present self -was that formerly when he did not grasp what lay before him or was -said to him, he had puckered his forehead painfully as if vainly -seeking to distinguish something at a distance. At present he still -forgot what was said to him and still did not see what was before -his eyes, but he now looked with a scarcely perceptible and -seemingly ironic smile at what was before him and listened to what was -said, though evidently seeing and hearing something quite different. -Formerly he had appeared to be a kindhearted but unhappy man, and so -people had been inclined to avoid him. Now a smile at the joy of -life always played round his lips, and sympathy for others, shone in -his eyes with a questioning look as to whether they were as -contented as he was, and people felt pleased by his presence. - -Previously he had talked a great deal, grew excited when he -talked, and seldom listened; now he was seldom carried away in -conversation and knew how to listen so that people readily told him -their most intimate secrets. - -The princess, who had never liked Pierre and had been particularly -hostile to him since she had felt herself under obligations to him -after the old count's death, now after staying a short time in Orel- -where she had come intending to show Pierre that in spite of his -ingratitude she considered it her duty to nurse him- felt to her -surprise and vexation that she had become fond of him. Pierre did -not in any way seek her approval, he merely studied her with interest. -Formerly she had felt that he regarded her with indifference and -irony, and so had shrunk into herself as she did with others and had -shown him only the combative side of her nature; but now he seemed -to be trying to understand the most intimate places of her heart, and, -mistrustfully at first but afterwards gratefully, she let him see -the hidden, kindly sides of her character. - -The most cunning man could not have crept into her confidence more -successfully, evoking memories of the best times of her youth and -showing sympathy with them. Yet Pierre's cunning consisted simply in -finding pleasure in drawing out the human qualities of the embittered, -hard, and (in her own way) proud princess. - -"Yes, he is a very, very kind man when he is not under the influence -of bad people but of people such as myself," thought she. - -His servants too- Terenty and Vaska- in their own way noticed the -change that had taken place in Pierre. They considered that he had -become much "simpler." Terenty, when he had helped him undress and -wished him good night, often lingered with his master's boots in his -hands and clothes over his arm, to see whether he would not start a -talk. And Pierre, noticing that Terenty wanted a chat, generally -kept him there. - -"Well, tell me... now, how did you get food?" he would ask. - -And Terenty would begin talking of the destruction of Moscow, and of -the old count, and would stand for a long time holding the clothes and -talking, or sometimes listening to Pierre's stories, and then would go -out into the hall with a pleasant sense of intimacy with his master -and affection for him. - -The doctor who attended Pierre and visited him every day, though -he considered it his duty as a doctor to pose as a man whose every -moment was of value to suffering humanity, would sit for hours with -Pierre telling him his favorite anecdotes and his observations on -the characters of his patients in general, and especially of the -ladies. - -"It's a pleasure to talk to a man like that; he is not like our -provincials," he would say. - -There were several prisoners from the French army in Orel, and the -doctor brought one of them, a young Italian, to see Pierre. - -This officer began visiting Pierre, and the princess used to make -fun of the tenderness the Italian expressed for him. - -The Italian seemed happy only when he could come to see Pierre, talk -with him, tell him about his past, his life at home, and his love, and -pour out to him his indignation against the French and especially -against Napoleon. - -"If all Russians are in the least like you, it is sacrilege to fight -such a nation," he said to Pierre. "You, who have suffered so from the -French, do not even feel animosity toward them." - -Pierre had evoked the passionate affection of the Italian merely -by evoking the best side of his nature and taking a pleasure in so -doing. - -During the last days of Pierre's stay in Orel his old Masonic -acquaintance Count Willarski, who had introduced him to the lodge in -1807, came to see him. Willarski was married to a Russian heiress -who had a large estate in Orel province, and he occupied a temporary -post in the commissariat department in that town. - -Hearing that Bezukhov was in Orel, Willarski, though they had -never been intimate, came to him with the professions of friendship -and intimacy that people who meet in a desert generally express for -one another. Willarski felt dull in Orel and was pleased to meet a man -of his own circle and, as he supposed, of similar interests. - -But to his surprise Willarski soon noticed that Pierre had lagged -much behind the times, and had sunk, as he expressed it to himself, -into apathy and egotism. - -"You are letting yourself go, my dear fellow," he said. - -But for all that Willarski found it pleasanter now than it had -been formerly to be with Pierre, and came to see him every day. To -Pierre as he looked at and listened to Willarski, it seemed strange to -think that he had been like that himself but a short time before. - -Willarski was a married man with a family, busy with his family -affairs, his wife's affairs, and his official duties. He regarded -all these occupations as hindrances to life, and considered that -they were all contemptible because their aim was the welfare of -himself and his family. Military, administrative, political, and -Masonic interests continually absorbed his attention. And Pierre, -without trying to change the other's views and without condemning him, -but with the quiet, joyful, and amused smile now habitual to him, -was interested in this strange though very familiar phenomenon. - -There was a new feature in Pierre's relations with Willarski, with -the princess, with the doctor, and with all the people he now met, -which gained for him the general good will. This was his -acknowledgment of the impossibility of changing a man's convictions by -words, and his recognition of the possibility of everyone thinking, -feeling, and seeing things each from his own point of view. This -legitimate peculiarity of each individual which used to excite and -irritate Pierre now became a basis of the sympathy he felt for, and -the interest he took in, other people. The difference, and sometimes -complete contradiction, between men's opinions and their lives, and -between one man and another, pleased him and drew from him an amused -and gentle smile. - -In practical matters Pierre unexpectedly felt within himself a -center of gravity he had previously lacked. Formerly all pecuniary -questions, especially requests for money to which, as an extremely -wealthy man, he was very exposed, produced in him a state of -hopeless agitation and perplexity. "To give or not to give?" he had -asked himself. "I have it and he needs it. But someone else needs it -still more. Who needs it most? And perhaps they are both impostors?" -In the old days he had been unable to find a way out of all these -surmises and had given to all who asked as long as he had anything -to give. Formerly he had been in a similar state of perplexity with -regard to every question concerning his property, when one person -advised one thing and another something else. - -Now to his surprise he found that he no longer felt either doubt -or perplexity about these questions. There was now within him a -judge who by some rule unknown to him decided what should or should -not be done. - -He was as indifferent as heretofore to money matters, but now he -felt certain of what ought and what ought not to be done. The first -time he had recourse to his new judge was when a French prisoner, a -colonel, came to him and, after talking a great deal about his -exploits, concluded by making what amounted to a demand that Pierre -should give him four thousand francs to send to his wife and children. -Pierre refused without the least difficulty or effort, and was -afterwards surprised how simple and easy had been what used to -appear so insurmountably difficult. At the same time that he refused -the colonel's demand he made up his mind that he must have recourse to -artifice when leaving Orel, to induce the Italian officer to accept -some money of which he was evidently in need. A further proof to -Pierre of his own more settled outlook on practical matters was -furnished by his decision with regard to his wife's debts and to the -rebuilding of his houses in and near Moscow. - -His head steward came to him at Orel and Pierre reckoned up with him -his diminished income. The burning of Moscow had cost him, according -to the head steward's calculation, about two million rubles. - -To console Pierre for these losses the head steward gave him an -estimate showing that despite these losses his income would not be -diminished but would even be increased if he refused to pay his wife's -debts which he was under no obligation to meet, and did not rebuild -his Moscow house and the country house on his Moscow estate, which had -cost him eighty thousand rubles a year and brought in nothing. - -"Yes, of course that's true," said Pierre with a cheerful smile. -"I don't need all that at all. By being ruined I have become much -richer." - -But in January Savelich came from Moscow and gave him an account -of the state of things there, and spoke of the estimate an architect -had made of the cost of rebuilding the town and country houses, -speaking of this as of a settled matter. About the same time he -received letters from Prince Vasili and other Petersburg acquaintances -speaking of his wife's debts. And Pierre decided that the steward's -proposals which had so pleased him were wrong and that he must go to -Petersburg and settle his wife's affairs and must rebuild in Moscow. -Why this was necessary he did not know, but he knew for certain that -it was necessary. His income would be reduced by three fourths, but he -felt it must be done. - -Willarski was going to Moscow and they agreed to travel together. - -During the whole time of his convalescence in Orel Pierre had -experienced a feeling of joy, freedom, and life; but when during his -journey he found himself in the open world and saw hundreds of new -faces, that feeling was intensified. Throughout his journey he felt -like a schoolboy on holiday. Everyone- the stagecoach driver, the -post-house overseers, the peasants on the roads and in the villages- -had a new significance for him. The presence and remarks of -Willarski who continually deplored the ignorance and poverty of Russia -and its backwardness compared with Europe only heightened Pierre's -pleasure. Where Willarski saw deadness Pierre saw an extraordinary -strength and vitality- the strength which in that vast space amid -the snows maintained the life of this original, peculiar, and unique -people. He did not contradict Willarski and even seemed to agree -with him- an apparent agreement being the simplest way to avoid -discussions that could lead to nothing- and he smiled joyfully as he -listened to him. - -CHAPTER XIV - -It would be difficult to explain why and whither ants whose heap has -been destroyed are hurrying: some from the heap dragging bits of -rubbish, larvae, and corpses, others back to the heap, or why they -jostle, overtake one another, and fight, and it would be equally -difficult to explain what caused the Russians after the departure of -the French to throng to the place that had formerly been Moscow. But -when we watch the ants round their ruined heap, the tenacity, -energy, and immense number of the delving insects prove that despite -the destruction of the heap, something indestructible, which though -intangible is the real strength of the colony, still exists; and -similarly, though in Moscow in the month of October there was no -government no churches, shrines, riches, or houses- it was still the -Moscow it had been in August. All was destroyed, except something -intangible yet powerful and indestructible. - -The motives of those who thronged from all sides to Moscow after -it had been cleared of the enemy were most diverse and personal, and -at first for the most part savage and brutal. One motive only they all -had in common: a desire to get to the place that had been called -Moscow, to apply their activities there. - -Within a week Moscow already had fifteen thousand inhabitants, in -a fortnight twenty-five thousand, and so on. By the autumn of 1813 the -number, ever increasing and increasing, exceeded what it had been in -1812. - -The first Russians to enter Moscow were the Cossacks of -Wintzingerode's detachment, peasants from the adjacent villages, and -residents who had fled from Moscow and had been hiding in its -vicinity. The Russians who entered Moscow, finding it plundered, -plundered it in their turn. They continued what the French had -begun. Trains of peasant carts came to Moscow to carry off to the -villages what had been abandoned in the ruined houses and the streets. -The Cossacks carried off what they could to their camps, and the -householders seized all they could find in other houses and moved it -to their own, pretending that it was their property. - -But the first plunderers were followed by a second and a third -contingent, and with increasing numbers plundering became more and -more difficult and assumed more definite forms. - -The French found Moscow abandoned but with all the organizations -of regular life, with diverse branches of commerce and -craftsmanship, with luxury, and governmental and religious -institutions. These forms were lifeless but still existed. There -were bazaars, shops, warehouses, market stalls, granaries- for the -most part still stocked with goods- and there were factories and -workshops, palaces and wealthy houses filled with luxuries, hospitals, -prisons, government offices, churches, and cathedrals. The longer -the French remained the more these forms of town life perished, -until finally all was merged into one confused, lifeless scene of -plunder. - -The more the plundering by the French continued, the more both the -wealth of Moscow and the strength of its plunderers was destroyed. But -plundering by the Russians, with which the reoccupation of the city -began, had an opposite effect: the longer it continued and the greater -the number of people taking part in it the more rapidly was the wealth -of the city and its regular life restored. - -Besides the plunderers, very various people, some drawn by -curiosity, some by official duties, some by self-interest- house -owners, clergy, officials of all kinds, tradesmen, artisans, and -peasants- streamed into Moscow as blood flows to the heart. - -Within a week the peasants who came with empty carts to carry off -plunder were stopped by the authorities and made to cart the corpses -out of the town. Other peasants, having heard of their comrades' -discomfiture, came to town bringing rye, oats, and hay, and beat -down one another's prices to below what they had been in former -days. Gangs of carpenters hoping for high pay arrived in Moscow -every day, and on all sides logs were being hewn, new houses built, -and old, charred ones repaired. Tradesmen began trading in booths. -Cookshops and taverns were opened in partially burned houses. The -clergy resumed the services in many churches that had not been burned. -Donors contributed Church property that had been stolen. Government -clerks set up their baize-covered tables and their pigeonholes of -documents in small rooms. The higher authorities and the police -organized the distribution of goods left behind by the French. The -owners of houses in which much property had been left, brought there -from other houses, complained of the injustice of taking everything to -the Faceted Palace in the Kremlin; others insisted that as the -French had gathered things from different houses into this or that -house, it would be unfair to allow its owner to keep all that was -found there. They abused the police and bribed them, made out -estimates at ten times their value for government stores that had -perished in the fire, and demanded relief. And Count Rostopchin -wrote proclamations. - -CHAPTER XV - -At the end of January Pierre went to Moscow and stayed in an annex -of his house which had not been burned. He called on Count -Rostopchin and on some acquaintances who were back in Moscow, and he -intended to leave for Petersburg two days later. Everybody was -celebrating the victory, everything was bubbling with life in the -ruined but reviving city. Everyone was pleased to see Pierre, everyone -wished to meet him, and everyone questioned him about what he had -seen. Pierre felt particularly well disposed toward them all, but -was now instinctively on his guard for fear of binding himself in -any way. To all questions put to him- whether important or quite -trifling- such as: Where would he live? Was he going to rebuild? -When was he going to Petersburg and would he mind taking a parcel -for someone?- he replied: "Yes, perhaps," or, "I think so," and so on. - -He had heard that the Rostovs were at Kostroma but the thought of -Natasha seldom occurred to him. If it did it was only as a pleasant -memory of the distant past. He felt himself not only free from -social obligations but also from that feeling which, it seemed to him, -he had aroused in himself. - -On the third day after his arrival he heard from the Drubetskoys -that Princess Mary was in Moscow. The death, sufferings, and last days -of Prince Andrew had often occupied Pierre's thoughts and now recurred -to him with fresh vividness. Having heard at dinner that Princess Mary -was in Moscow and living in her house- which had not been burned- in -Vozdvizhenka Street, he drove that same evening to see her. - -On his way to the house Pierre kept thinking of Prince Andrew, of -their friendship, of his various meetings with him, and especially -of the last one at Borodino. - -"Is it possible that he died in the bitter frame of mind he was then -in? Is it possible that the meaning of life was not disclosed to him -before he died?" thought Pierre. He recalled Karataev and his death -and involuntarily began to compare these two men, so different, and -yet so similar in that they had both lived and both died and in the -love he felt for both of them. - -Pierre drove up to the house of the old prince in a most serious -mood. The house had escaped the fire; it showed signs of damage but -its general aspect was unchanged. The old footman, who met Pierre with -a stern face as if wishing to make the visitor feel that the absence -of the old prince had not disturbed the order of things in the -house, informed him that the princess had gone to her own -apartments, and that she received on Sundays. - -"Announce me. Perhaps she will see me," said Pierre. - -"Yes, sir," said the man. "Please step into the portrait gallery." - -A few minutes later the footman returned with Dessalles, who brought -word from the princess that she would be very glad to see Pierre if he -would excuse her want of ceremony and come upstairs to her apartment. - -In a rather low room lit by one candle sat the princess and with her -another person dressed in black. Pierre remembered that the princess -always had lady companions, but who they were and what they were -like he never knew or remembered. "This must be one of her -companions," he thought, glancing at the lady in the black dress. - -The princess rose quickly to meet him and held out her hand. - -"Yes," she said, looking at his altered face after he had kissed her -hand, "so this is how we meet again. He of spoke of you even at the -very last," she went on, turning her eyes from Pierre to her companion -with a shyness that surprised him for an instant. - -"I was so glad to hear of your safety. It was the first piece of -good news we had received for a long time." - -Again the princess glanced round at her companion with even more -uneasiness in her manner and was about to add something, but Pierre -interrupted her. - -"Just imagine- I knew nothing about him!" said he. "I thought he had -been killed. All I know I heard at second hand from others. I only -know that he fell in with the Rostovs.... What a strange coincidence!" - -Pierre spoke rapidly and with animation. He glanced once at the -companion's face, saw her attentive and kindly gaze fixed on him, and, -as often happens when one is talking, felt somehow that this companion -in the black dress was a good, kind, excellent creature who would -not hinder his conversing freely with Princess Mary. - -But when he mentioned the Rostovs, Princess Mary's face expressed -still greater embarrassment. She again glanced rapidly from Pierre's -face to that of the lady in the black dress and said: - -"Do you really not recognize her?" - -Pierre looked again at the companion's pale, delicate face with -its black eyes and peculiar mouth, and something near to him, long -forgotten and more than sweet, looked at him from those attentive -eyes. - -"But no, it can't be!" he thought. "This stern, thin, pale face that -looks so much older! It cannot be she. It merely reminds me of her." -But at that moment Princess Mary said, "Natasha!" And with difficulty, -effort, and stress, like the opening of a door grown rusty on its -hinges, a smile appeared on the face with the attentive eyes, and from -that opening door came a breath of fragrance which suffused Pierre -with a happiness he had long forgotten and of which he had not even -been thinking- especially at that moment. It suffused him, seized him, -and enveloped him completely. When she smiled doubt was no longer -possible, it was Natasha and he loved her. - -At that moment Pierre involuntarily betrayed to her, to Princess -Mary, and above all to himself, a secret of which he himself had -been unaware. He flushed joyfully yet with painful distress. He -tried to hide his agitation. But the more he tried to hide it the more -clearly- clearer than any words could have done- did he betray to -himself, to her, and to Princess Mary that he loved her. - -"No, it's only the unexpectedness of it," thought Pierre. But as -soon as he tried to continue the conversation he had begun with -Princess Mary he again glanced at Natasha, and a still-deeper flush -suffused his face and a still-stronger agitation of mingled joy and -fear seized his soul. He became confused in his speech and stopped -in the middle of what he was saying. - -Pierre had failed to notice Natasha because he did not at all expect -to see her there, but he had failed to recognize her because the -change in her since he last saw her was immense. She had grown thin -and pale, but that was not what made her unrecognizable; she was -unrecognizable at the moment he entered because on that face whose -eyes had always shone with a suppressed smile of the joy of life, -now when he first entered and glanced at her there was not the least -shadow of a smile: only her eyes were kindly attentive and sadly -interrogative. - -Pierre's confusion was not reflected by any confusion on Natasha's -part, but only by the pleasure that just perceptibly lit up her -whole face. - -CHAPTER XVI - -"She has come to stay with me," said Princess Mary. "The count and -countess will be here in a few days. The countess is in a dreadful -state; but it was necessary for Natasha herself to see a doctor. -They insisted on her coming with me." - -"Yes, is there a family free from sorrow now?" said Pierre, -addressing Natasha. "You know it happened the very day we were -rescued. I saw him. What a delightful boy he was!" - -Natasha looked at him, and by way of answer to his words her eyes -widened and lit up. - -"What can one say or think of as a consolation?" said Pierre. -"Nothing! Why had such a splendid boy, so full of life, to die?" - -"Yes, in these days it would be hard to live without faith..." -remarked Princess Mary. - -"Yes, yes, that is really true," Pierre hastily interrupted her. - -"Why is it true?" Natasha asked, looking attentively into Pierre's -eyes. - -"How can you ask why?" said Princess Mary. "The thought alone of -what awaits..." - -Natasha without waiting for Princess Mary to finish again looked -inquiringly at Pierre. - -"And because," Pierre continued, "only one who believes that there -is a God ruling us can bear a loss such as hers and... yours." - -Natasha had already opened her mouth to speak but suddenly -stopped. Pierre hurriedly turned away from her and again addressed -Princess Mary, asking about his friend's last days. - -Pierre's confusion had now almost vanished, but at the same time -he felt that his freedom had also completely gone. He felt that -there was now a judge of his every word and action whose judgment -mattered more to him than that of all the rest of the world. As he -spoke now he was considering what impression his words would make on -Natasha. He did not purposely say things to please her, but whatever -he was saying he regarded from her standpoint. - -Princess Mary- reluctantly as is usual in such cases- began -telling of the condition in which she had found Prince Andrew. But -Pierre's face quivering with emotion, his questions and his eager -restless expression, gradually compelled her to go into details -which she feared to recall for her own sake. - -"Yes, yes, and so...? " Pierre kept saying as he leaned toward her -with his whole body and eagerly listened to her story. "Yes, yes... so -he grew tranquil and softened? With all his soul he had always -sought one thing- to be perfectly good- so he could not be afraid of -death. The faults he had- if he had any- were not of his making. So he -did soften?... What a happy thing that he saw you again," he added, -suddenly turning to Natasha and looking at her with eyes full of -tears. - -Natasha's face twitched. She frowned and lowered her eyes for a -moment. She hesitated for an instant whether to speak or not. - -"Yes, that was happiness," she then said in her quiet voice with its -deep chest notes. "For me it certainly was happiness." She paused. -"And he... he... he said he was wishing for it at the very moment I -entered the room...." - -Natasha's voice broke. She blushed, pressed her clasped hands on her -knees, and then controlling herself with an evident effort lifted -her head and began to speak rapidly. - -"We knew nothing of it when we started from Moscow. I did not dare -to ask about him. Then suddenly Sonya told me he was traveling with -us. I had no idea and could not imagine what state he was in, all I -wanted was to see him and be with him," she said, trembling, and -breathing quickly. - -And not letting them interrupt her she went on to tell what she -had never yet mentioned to anyone- all she had lived through during -those three weeks of their journey and life at Yaroslavl. - -Pierre listened to her with lips parted and eyes fixed upon her full -of tears. As he listened he did not think of Prince Andrew, nor of -death, nor of what she was telling. He listened to her and felt only -pity for her, for what she was suffering now while she was speaking. - -Princess Mary, frowning in her effort to hold back her tears, sat -beside Natasha, and heard for the first time the story of those last -days of her brother's and Natasha's love. - -Evidently Natasha needed to tell that painful yet joyful tale. - -She spoke, mingling most trifling details with the intimate -secrets of her soul, and it seemed as if she could never finish. -Several times she repeated the same thing twice. - -Dessalles' voice was heard outside the door asking whether little -Nicholas might come in to say good night. - -"Well, that's all- everything," said Natasha. - -She got up quickly just as Nicholas entered, almost ran to the -door which was hidden by curtains, struck her head against it, and -rushed from the room with a moan either of pain or sorrow. - -Pierre gazed at the door through which she had disappeared and did -not understand why he suddenly felt all alone in the world. - -Princess Mary roused him from his abstraction by drawing his -attention to her nephew who had entered the room. - -At that moment of emotional tenderness young Nicholas' face, which -resembled his father's, affected Pierre so much that when he had -kissed the boy he got up quickly, took out his handkerchief, and -went to the window. He wished to take leave of Princess Mary, but -she would not let him go. - -"No, Natasha and I sometimes don't go to sleep till after two, so -please don't go. I will order supper. Go downstairs, we will come -immediately." - -Before Pierre left the room Princess Mary told him: "This is the -first time she has talked of him like that." - -CHAPTER XVII - -Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a few -minutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered with -Natasha. Natasha was calm, though a severe and grave expression had -again settled on her face. They all three of them now experienced that -feeling of awkwardness which usually follows after a serious and -heartfelt talk. It is impossible to go back to the same -conversation, to talk of trifles is awkward, and yet the desire to -speak is there and silence seems like affectation. They went -silently to table. The footmen drew back the chairs and pushed them up -again. Pierre unfolded his cold table napkin and, resolving to break -the silence, looked at Natasha and at Princess Mary. They had -evidently both formed the same resolution; the eyes of both shone with -satisfaction and a confession that besides sorrow life also has joy. - -"Do you take vodka, Count?" asked Princess Mary, and those words -suddenly banished the shadows of the past. "Now tell us about -yourself," said she. "One hears such improbable wonders about you." - -"Yes," replied Pierre with the smile of mild irony now habitual to -him. "They even tell me wonders I myself never dreamed of! Mary -Abramovna invited me to her house and kept telling me what had -happened, or ought to have happened, to me. Stepan Stepanych also -instructed me how I ought to tell of my experiences. In general I have -noticed that it is very easy to be an interesting man (I am an -interesting man now); people invite me out and tell me all about -myself." - -Natasha smiled and was on the point of speaking. - -"We have been told," Princess Mary interrupted her, "that you lost -two millions in Moscow. Is that true?" - -"But I am three times as rich as before," returned Pierre. - -Though the position was now altered by his decision to pay his -wife's debts and to rebuild his houses, Pierre still maintained that -he had become three times as rich as before. - -"What I have certainly gained is freedom," he began seriously, but -did not continue, noticing that this theme was too egotistic. - -"And are you building?" - -"Yes. Savelich says I must!" - -"Tell me, you did not know of the countess' death when you decided -to remain in Moscow?" asked Princess Mary and immediately blushed, -noticing that her question, following his mention of freedom, ascribed -to his words a meaning he had perhaps not intended. - -"No," answered Pierre, evidently not considering awkward the meaning -Princess Mary had given to his words. "I heard of it in Orel and you -cannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple," he -added quickly, glancing at Natasha and noticing on her face -curiosity as to how he would speak of his wife, "but her death shocked -me terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault, -and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the other -is no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends and -without consolation! I am very, very sorry for her," he concluded, and -was pleased to notice a look of glad approval on Natasha's face. - -"Yes, and so you are once more an eligible bachelor," said -Princess Mary. - -Pierre suddenly flushed crimson and for a long time tried not to -look at Natasha. When he ventured to glance her way again her face was -cold, stern, and he fancied even contemptuous. - -"And did you really see and speak to Napoleon, as we have been -told?" said Princess Mary. - -Pierre laughed. - -"No, not once! Everybody seems to imagine that being taken -prisoner means being Napoleon's guest. Not only did I never see him -but I heard nothing about him- I was in much lower company!" - -Supper was over, and Pierre who at first declined to speak about his -captivity was gradually led on to do so. - -"But it's true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon?" -Natasha asked with a slight smile. "I guessed it then when we met at -the Sukharev tower, do you remember?" - -Pierre admitted that it was true, and from that was gradually led by -Princess Mary's questions and especially by Natasha's into giving a -detailed account of his adventures. - -At first he spoke with the amused and mild irony now customary -with him toward everybody and especially toward himself, but when he -came to describe the horrors and sufferings he had witnessed he was -unconsciously carried away and began speaking with the suppressed -emotion of a man re-experiencing in recollection strong impressions he -has lived through. - -Princess Mary with a gentle smile looked now at Pierre and now at -Natasha. In the whole narrative she saw only Pierre and his -goodness. Natasha, leaning on her elbow, the expression of her face -constantly changing with the narrative, watched Pierre with an -attention that never wandered- evidently herself experiencing all that -he described. Not only her look, but her exclamations and the brief -questions she put, showed Pierre that she understood just what he -wished to convey. It was clear that she understood not only what he -said but also what he wished to, but could not, express in words. -The account Pierre gave of the incident with the child and the woman -for protecting whom he was arrested was this: "It was an awful -sight- children abandoned, some in the flames... One was snatched -out before my eyes... and there were women who had their things -snatched off and their earrings torn out..." he flushed and grew -confused. "Then a patrol arrived and all the men- all those who were -not looting, that is- were arrested, and I among them." - -"I am sure you're not telling us everything; I am sure you did -something..." said Natasha and pausing added, "something fine?" - -Pierre continued. When he spoke of the execution he wanted to pass -over the horrible details, but Natasha insisted that he should not -omit anything. - -Pierre began to tell about Karataev, but paused. By this time he had -risen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following him -with her eyes. Then he added: - -"No, you can't understand what I learned from that illiterate man- -that simple fellow." - -"Yes, yes, go on!" said Natasha. "Where is he?" - -"They killed him almost before my eyes." - -And Pierre, his voice trembling continually, went on to tell of -the last days of their retreat, of Karataev's illness and his death. - -He told of his adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, -as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that -he was telling it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which -a man has when women listen to him- not clever women who when -listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their -minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt -it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own -clever comments prepared in their little mental workshop- but the -pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and -absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing -it was all attention: she did not lose a word, no single quiver in -Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a -single gesture. She caught the unfinished word in its flight and -took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of -all Pierre's mental travail. - -Princess Mary understood his story and sympathized with him, but she -now saw something else that absorbed all her attention. She saw the -possibility of love and happiness between Natasha and Pierre, and -the first thought of this filled her heart with gladness. - -It was three o'clock in the morning. The footmen came in with sad -and stern faces to change the candles, but no one noticed them. - -Pierre finished his story. Natasha continued to look at him intently -with bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying to -understand something more which he had perhaps left untold. Pierre -in shamefaced and happy confusion glanced occasionally at her, and -tried to think what to say next to introduce a fresh subject. Princess -Mary was silent. It occurred to none of them that it was three o'clock -and time to go to bed. - -"People speak of misfortunes and sufferings," remarked Pierre, -"but if at this moment I were asked: 'Would you rather be what you -were before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again?' -then for heaven's sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh! -We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is -lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While -there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. I say -this to you," he added, turning to Natasha. - -"Yes, yes," she said, answering something quite different. "I too -should wish nothing but to relive it all from the beginning." - -Pierre looked intently at her. - -"Yes, and nothing more." said Natasha. - -"It's not true, not true!" cried Pierre. "I am not to blame for -being alive and wishing to live- nor you either." - -Suddenly Natasha bent her head, covered her face with her hands, and -began to cry. - -"What is it, Natasha?" said Princess Mary. - -"Nothing, nothing." She smiled at Pierre through her tears. "Good -night! It is time for bed." - -Pierre rose and took his leave. - -Princess Mary and Natasha met as usual in the bedroom. They talked -of what Pierre had told them. Princess Mary did not express her -opinion of Pierre nor did Natasha speak of him. - -"Well, good night, Mary!" said Natasha. "Do you know, I am often -afraid that by not speaking of him" (she meant Prince Andrew) "for -fear of not doing justice to our feelings, we forget him." - -Princess Mary sighed deeply and thereby acknowledged the justice -of Natasha's remark, but she did not express agreement in words. - -"Is it possible to forget?" said she. - -"It did me so much good to tell all about it today. It was hard -and painful, but good, very good!" said Natasha. "I am sure he -really loved him. That is why I told him... Was it all right?" she -added, suddenly blushing. - -"To tell Pierre? Oh, yes. What a splendid man he is!" said -Princess Mary. - -"Do you know, Mary..." Natasha suddenly said with a mischievous -smile such as Princess Mary had not seen on her face for a long -time, "he has somehow grown so clean, smooth, and fresh- as if he -had just come out of a Russian bath; do you understand? Out of a moral -bath. Isn't it true?" - -"Yes," replied Princess Mary. "He has greatly improved." - -"With a short coat and his hair cropped; just as if, well, just as -if he had come straight from the bath... Papa used to..." - -"I understand why he" (Prince Andrew) "liked no one so much as him," -said Princess Mary. - -"Yes, and yet he is quite different. They say men are friends when -they are quite different. That must be true. Really he is quite unlike -him- in everything." - -"Yes, but he's wonderful." - -"Well, good night," said Natasha. - -And the same mischievous smile lingered for a long time on her -face as if it had been forgotten there. - -CHAPTER XVIII - -It was a long time before Pierre could fall asleep that night. He -paced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficult -problem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders and -wincing, and now smiling happily. - -He was thinking of Prince Andrew, of Natasha, and of their love, -at one moment jealous of her past, then reproaching himself for that -feeling. It was already six in the morning and he still paced up and -down the room. - -"Well, what's to be done if it cannot be avoided? What's to be done? -Evidently it has to be so," said he to himself, and hastily undressing -he got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation or -indecision. - -"Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must do -everything that she and I may be man and wife," he told himself. - -A few days previously Pierre had decided to go to Petersburg on -the Friday. When he awoke on the Thursday, Savelich came to ask him -about packing for the journey. - -"What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there in -Petersburg?" he asked involuntarily, though only to himself. "Oh, yes, -long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go to -Petersburg," he reflected. "Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a good -fellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything," he -thought, looking at Savelich's old face, "and what a pleasant smile he -has!" - -"Well, Savelich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?" -Pierre asked him. - -"What's the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived under -the late count- the kingdom of heaven be his!- and we have lived under -you too, without ever being wronged." - -"And your children?" - -"The children will live just the same. With such masters one can -live." - -"But what about my heirs?" said Pierre. "Supposing I suddenly -marry... it might happen," he added with an involuntary smile. - -"If I may take the liberty, your excellency, it would be a good -thing." - -"How easy he thinks it," thought Pierre. "He doesn't know how -terrible it is and how dangerous. Too soon or too late... it is -terrible!" - -"So what are your orders? Are you starting tomorrow?" asked -Savelich. - -"No, I'll put it off for a bit. I'll tell you later. You must -forgive the trouble I have put you to," said Pierre, and seeing -Savelich smile, he thought: "But how strange it is that he should -not know that now there is no Petersburg for me, and that that must be -settled first of all! But probably he knows it well enough and is only -pretending. Shall I have a talk with him and see what he thinks?" -Pierre reflected. "No, another time." - -At breakfast Pierre told the princess, his cousin, that he had -been to see Princess Mary the day before and had there met- "Whom do -you think? Natasha Rostova!" - -The princess seemed to see nothing more extraordinary in that than -if he had seen Anna Semenovna. - -"Do you know her?" asked Pierre. - -"I have seen the princess," she replied. "I heard that they were -arranging a match for her with young Rostov. It would be a very good -thing for the Rostovs, they are said to be utterly ruined." - -"No; I mean do you know Natasha Rostova?" - -"I heard about that affair of hers at the time. It was a great -pity." - -"No, she either doesn't understand or is pretending," thought -Pierre. "Better not say anything to her either." - -The princess too had prepared provisions for Pierre's journey. - -"How kind they all are," thought Pierre. "What is surprising is that -they should trouble about these things now when it can no longer be of -interest to them. And all for me!" - -On the same day the Chief of Police came to Pierre, inviting him -to send a representative to the Faceted Palace to recover things -that were to be returned to their owners that day. - -"And this man too," thought Pierre, looking into the face of the -Chief of Police. "What a fine, good-looking officer and how kind. -Fancy bothering about such trifies now! And they actually say he is -not honest and takes bribes. What nonsense! Besides, why shouldn't -he take bribes? That's the way he was brought up, and everybody does -it. But what a kind, pleasant face and how he smiles as he looks at -me." - -Pierre went to Princess Mary's to dinner. - -As he drove through the streets past the houses that had been burned -down, he was surprised by the beauty of those ruins. The -picturesqueness of the chimney stacks and tumble-down walls of the -burned-out quarters of the town, stretching out and concealing one -another, reminded him of the Rhine and the Colosseum. The cabmen he -met and their passengers, the carpenters cutting the timber for new -houses with axes, the women hawkers, and the shopkeepers, all looked -at him with cheerful beaming eyes that seemed to say: "Ah, there he -is! Let's see what will come of it!" - -At the entrance to Princess Mary's house Pierre felt doubtful -whether he had really been there the night before and really seen -Natasha and talked to her. "Perhaps I imagined it; perhaps I shall -go in and find no one there." But he had hardly entered the room -before he felt her presence with his whole being by the loss of his -sense of freedom. She was in the same black dress with soft folds -and her hair was done the same way as the day before, yet she was -quite different. Had she been like this when he entered the day before -he could not for a moment have failed to recognize her. - -She was as he had known her almost as a child and later on as Prince -Andrew's fiancee. A bright questioning light shone in her eyes, and on -her face was a friendly and strangely roguish expression. - -Pierre dined with them and would have spent the whole evening there, -but Princess Mary was going to vespers and Pierre left the house -with her. - -Next day he came early, dined, and stayed the whole evening. -Though Princess Mary and Natasha were evidently glad to see their -visitor and though all Pierre's interest was now centered in that -house, by the evening they had talked over everything and the -conversation passed from one trivial topic to another and repeatedly -broke off. He stayed so long that Princess Mary and Natasha -exchanged glances, evidently wondering when he would go. Pierre -noticed this but could not go. He felt uneasy and embarrassed, but sat -on because he simply could not get up and take his leave. - -Princess Mary, foreseeing no end to this, rose first, and -complaining of a headache began to say good night. - -"So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?" she asked. - -"No, I am not going," Pierre replied hastily, in a surprised tone -and as though offended. "Yes... no... to Petersburg? Tomorrow- but I -won't say good-by yet. I will call round in case you have any -commissions for me," said he, standing before Princess Mary and -turning red, but not taking his departure. - -Natasha gave him her hand and went out. Princess Mary on the other -hand instead of going away sank into an armchair, and looked sternly -and intently at him with her deep, radiant eyes. The weariness she had -plainly shown before had now quite passed off. With a deep and -long-drawn sigh she seemed to be prepared for a lengthy talk. - -When Natasha left the room Pierre's confusion and awkwardness -immediately vanished and were replaced by eager excitement. He quickly -moved an armchair toward Princess Mary. - -"Yes, I wanted to tell you," said he, answering her look as if she -had spoken. "Princess, help me! What am I to do? Can I hope? Princess, -my dear friend, listen! I know it all. I know I am not worthy of -her, I know it's impossible to speak of it now. But I want to be a -brother to her. No, not that, I don't, I can't..." - -He paused and rubbed his face and eyes with his hands. - -"Well," he went on with an evident effort at self-control and -coherence. "I don't know when I began to love her, but I have loved -her and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imagine -life without her. I cannot propose to her at present, but the -thought that perhaps she might someday be my wife and that I may be -missing that possibility... that possibility... is terrible. Tell -me, can I hope? Tell me what I am to do, dear princess!" he added -after a pause, and touched her hand as she did not reply. - -"I am thinking of what you have told me," answered Princess Mary. -"This is what I will say. You are right that to speak to her of love -at present..." - -Princess Mary stopped. She was going to say that to speak of love -was impossible, but she stopped because she had seen by the sudden -change in Natasha two days before that she would not only not be -hurt if Pierre spoke of his love, but that it was the very thing she -wished for. - -"To speak to her now wouldn't do," said the princess all the same. - -"But what am I to do? - -"Leave it to me," said Princess Mary. "I know..." - -Pierre was looking into Princess Mary's eyes. - -"Well?... Well?..." he said. - -"I know that she loves... will love you," Princess Mary corrected -herself. - -Before her words were out, Pierre had sprung up and with a -frightened expression seized Princess Mary's hand. - -"What makes you think so? You think I may hope? You think...?" - -"Yes, I think so," said Princess Mary with a smile. "Write to her -parents, and leave it to me. I will tell her when I can. I wish it -to happen and my heart tells me it will." - -"No, it cannot be! How happy I am! But it can't be.... How happy I -am! No, it can't be!" Pierre kept saying as he kissed Princess -Mary's hands. - -"Go to Petersburg, that will be best. And I will write to you," -she said. - -"To Petersburg? Go there? Very well, I'll go. But I may come again -tomorrow?" - -Next day Pierre came to say good-by. Natasha was less animated -than she had been the day before; but that day as he looked at her -Pierre sometimes felt as if he was vanishing and that neither he nor -she existed any longer, that nothing existed but happiness. "Is it -possible? No, it can't be," he told himself at every look, gesture, -and word that filled his soul with joy. - -When on saying good-by he took her thin, slender hand, he could -not help holding it a little longer in his own. - -"Is it possible that this hand, that face, those eyes, all this -treasure of feminine charm so strange to me now, is it possible that -it will one day be mine forever, as familiar to me as I am to -myself?... No, that's impossible!..." - -"Good-by, Count," she said aloud. "I shall look forward very much to -your return," she added in a whisper. - -And these simple words, her look, and the expression on her face -which accompanied them, formed for two months the subject of -inexhaustible memories, interpretations, and happy meditations for -Pierre. "'I shall look forward very much to your return....' Yes, yes, -how did she say it? Yes, 'I shall look forward very much to your -return.' Oh, how happy I am! What is happening to me? How happy I am!" -said Pierre to himself. - -CHAPTER XIX - -There was nothing in Pierre's soul now at all like what had troubled -it during his courtship of Helene. - -He did not repeat to himself with a sickening feeling of shame the -words he had spoken, or say: "Oh, why did I not say that?" and, -"Whatever made me say 'Je vous aime'?" On the contrary, he now -repeated in imagination every word that he or Natasha had spoken and -pictured every detail of her face and smile, and did not wish to -diminish or add anything, but only to repeat it again and again. There -was now not a shadow of doubt in his mind as to whether what he had -undertaken was right or wrong. Only one terrible doubt sometimes -crossed his mind: "Wasn't it all a dream? Isn't Princess Mary -mistaken? Am I not too conceited and self-confident? I believe all -this- and suddenly Princess Mary will tell her, and she will be sure -to smile and say: 'How strange! He must be deluding himself. Doesn't -he know that he is a man, just a man, while I...? I am something -altogether different and higher.'" - -That was the only doubt often troubling Pierre. He did not now -make any plans. The happiness before him appeared so inconceivable -that if only he could attain it, it would be the end of all things. -Everything ended with that. - -A joyful, unexpected frenzy, of which he had thought himself -incapable, possessed him. The whole meaning of life- not for him alone -but for the whole world- seemed to him centered in his love and the -possibility of being loved by her. At times everybody seemed to him to -be occupied with one thing only- his future happiness. Sometimes it -seemed to him that other people were all as pleased as he was -himself and merely tried to hide that pleasure by pretending to be -busy with other interests. In every word and gesture he saw -allusions to his happiness. He often surprised those he met by his -significantly happy looks and smiles which seemed to express a -secret understanding between him and them. And when he realized that -people might not be aware of his happiness, he pitied them with his -whole heart and felt a desire somehow to explain to them that all that -occupied them was a mere frivolous trifle unworthy of attention. - -When it was suggested to him that he should enter the civil service, -or when the war or any general political affairs were discussed on the -assumption that everybody's welfare depended on this or that issue -of events, he would listen with a mild and pitying smile and -surprise people by his strange comments. But at this time he saw -everybody- both those who, as he imagined, understood the real meaning -of life (that is, what he was feeling) and those unfortunates who -evidently did not understand it- in the bright light of the emotion -that shone within himself, and at once without any effort saw in -everyone he met everything that was good and worthy of being loved. - -When dealing with the affairs and papers of his dead wife, her -memory aroused in him no feeling but pity that she had not known the -bliss he now knew. Prince Vasili, who having obtained a new post and -some fresh decorations was particularly proud at this time, seemed -to him a pathetic, kindly old man much to be pitied. - -Often in afterlife Pierre recalled this period of blissful insanity. -All the views he formed of men and circumstances at this time remained -true for him always. He not only did not renounce them subsequently, -but when he was in doubt or inwardly at variance, he referred to the -views he had held at this time of his madness and they always proved -correct. - -"I may have appeared strange and queer then," he thought, "but I was -not so mad as I seemed. On the contrary I was then wiser and had -more insight than at any other time, and understood all that is -worth understanding in life, because... because I was happy." - -Pierre's insanity consisted in not waiting, as he used to do, to -discover personal attributes which he termed "good qualities" in -people before loving them; his heart was now overflowing with love, -and by loving people without cause he discovered indubitable causes -for loving them. - -CHAPTER XX - -After Pierre's departure that first evening, when Natasha had said -to Princess Mary with a gaily mocking smile: "He looks just, yes, just -as if he had come out of a Russian bath- in a short coat and with -his hair cropped," something hidden and unknown to herself, but -irrepressible, awoke in Natasha's soul. - -Everything: her face, walk, look, and voice, was suddenly altered. -To her own surprise a power of life and hope of happiness rose to -the surface and demanded satisfaction. From that evening she seemed to -have forgotten all that had happened to her. She no longer -complained of her position, did not say a word about the past, and -no longer feared to make happy plans for the future. She spoke -little of Pierre, but when Princess Mary mentioned him a -long-extinguished light once more kindled in her eyes and her lips -curved with a strange smile. - -The change that took place in Natasha at first surprised Princess -Mary; but when she understood its meaning it grieved her. "Can she -have loved my brother so little as to be able to forget him so -soon?" she thought when she reflected on the change. But when she -was with Natasha she was not vexed with her and did not reproach -her. The reawakened power of life that had seized Natasha was so -evidently irrepressible and unexpected by her that in her presence -Princess Mary felt that she had no right to reproach her even in her -heart. - -Natasha gave herself up so fully and frankly to this new feeling -that she did not try to hide the fact that she was no longer sad, -but bright and cheerful. - -When Princess Mary returned to her room after her nocturnal talk -with Pierre, Natasha met her on the threshold. - -"He has spoken? Yes? He has spoken?" she repeated. - -And a joyful yet pathetic expression which seemed to beg forgiveness -for her joy settled on Natasha's face. - -"I wanted to listen at the door, but I knew you would tell me." - -Understandable and touching as the look with which Natasha gazed -at her seemed to Princess Mary, and sorry as she was to see her -agitation, these words pained her for a moment. She remembered her -brother and his love. - -"But what's to be done? She can't help it," thought the princess. - -And with a sad and rather stern look she told Natasha all that -Pierre had said. On hearing that he was going to Petersburg Natasha -was astounded. - -"To Petersburg!" she repeated as if unable to understand. - -But noticing the grieved expression on Princess Mary's face she -guessed the reason of that sadness and suddenly began to cry. - -"Mary," said she, "tell me what I should do! I am afraid of being -bad. Whatever you tell me, I will do. Tell me...." - -"You love him?" - -"Yes," whispered Natasha. - -"Then why are you crying? I am happy for your sake," said Princess -Mary, who because of those tears quite forgave Natasha's joy. - -"It won't be just yet- someday. Think what fun it will be when I -am his wife and you marry Nicholas!" - -"Natasha, I have asked you not to speak of that. Let us talk about -you." - -They were silent awhile. - -"But why go to Petersburg?" Natasha suddenly asked, and hastily -replied to her own question. "But no, no, he must... Yes, Mary, He -must...." - -FIRST EPILOGUE: 1813 - 20 - -CHAPTER I - -Seven years had passed. The storm-tossed sea of European history had -subsided within its shores and seemed to have become calm. But the -mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of -their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate. - -Though the surface of the sea of history seemed motionless, the -movement of humanity went on as unceasingly as the flow of time. -Various groups of people formed and dissolved, the coming formation -and dissolution of kingdoms and displacement of peoples was in -course of preparation. - -The sea of history was not driven spasmodically from shore to -shore as previously. It was seething in its depths. Historic figures -were not borne by the waves from one shore to another as before. -They now seemed to rotate on one spot. The historical figures at the -head of armies, who formerly reflected the movement of the masses by -ordering wars, campaigns, and battles, now reflected the restless -movement by political and diplomatic combinations, laws, and treaties. - -The historians call this activity of the historical figures "the -reaction." - -In dealing with this period they sternly condemn the historical -personages who, in their opinion, caused what they describe as the -reaction. All the well-known people of that period, from Alexander and -Napoleon to Madame de Stael, Photius, Schelling, Fichte, -Chateaubriand, and the rest, pass before their stern judgment seat and -are acquitted or condemned according to whether they conduced to -progress or to reaction. - -According to their accounts a reaction took place at that time in -Russia also, and the chief culprit was Alexander I, the same man who -according to them was the chief cause of the liberal movement at the -commencement of his reign, being the savior of Russia. - -There is no one in Russian literature now, from schoolboy essayist -to learned historian, who does not throw his little stone at Alexander -for things he did wrong at this period of his reign. - -"He ought to have acted in this way and in that way. In this case he -did well and in that case badly. He behaved admirably at the beginning -of his reign and during 1812, but acted badly by giving a constitution -to Poland, forming the Holy Alliance, entrusting power to Arakcheev, -favoring Golitsyn and mysticism, and afterwards Shishkov and -Photius. He also acted badly by concerning himself with the active -army and disbanding the Semenov regiment." - -It would take a dozen pages to enumerate all the reproaches the -historians address to him, based on their knowledge of what is good -for humanity. - -What do these reproaches mean? - -Do not the very actions for which the historians praise Alexander -I (the liberal attempts at the beginning of his reign, his struggle -with Napoleon, the firmness he displayed in 1812 and the campaign of -1813) flow from the same sources- the circumstances of his birth, -education, and life- that made his personality what it was and from -which the actions for which they blame him (the Holy Alliance, the -restoration of Poland, and the reaction of 1820 and later) also -flowed? - -In what does the substance of those reproaches lie? - -It lies in the fact that an historic character like Alexander I, -standing on the highest possible pinnacle of human power with the -blinding light of history focused upon him; a character exposed to -those strongest of all influences: the intrigues, flattery, and -self-deception inseparable from power; a character who at every moment -of his life felt a responsibility for all that was happening in -Europe; and not a fictitious but a live character who like every man -had his personal habits, passions, and impulses toward goodness, -beauty, and truth- that this character- though not lacking in virtue -(the historians do not accuse him of that)- had not the same -conception of the welfare of humanity fifty years ago as a present-day -professor who from his youth upwards has been occupied with -learning: that is, with books and lectures and with taking notes -from them. - -But even if we assume that fifty years ago Alexander I was -mistaken in his view of what was good for the people, we must -inevitably assume that the historian who judges Alexander will also -after the lapse of some time turn out to be mistaken in his view of -what is good for humanity. This assumption is all the more natural and -inevitable because, watching the movement of history, we see that -every year and with each new writer, opinion as to what is good for -mankind changes; so that what once seemed good, ten years later -seems bad, and vice versa. And what is more, we find at one and the -same time quite contradictory views as to what is bad and what is good -in history: some people regard giving a constitution to Poland and -forming the Holy Alliance as praiseworthy in Alexander, while others -regard it as blameworthy. - -The activity of Alexander or of Napoleon cannot be called useful -or harmful, for it is impossible to say for what it was useful or -harmful. If that activity displeases somebody, this is only because it -does not agree with his limited understanding of what is good. Whether -the preservation of my father's house in Moscow, or the glory of the -Russian arms, or the prosperity of the Petersburg and other -universities, or the freedom of Poland or the greatness of Russia, -or the balance of power in Europe, or a certain kind of European -culture called "progress" appear to me to be good or bad, I must admit -that besides these things the action of every historic character has -other more general purposes inaccessible to me. - -But let us assume that what is called science can harmonize all -contradictions and possesses an unchanging standard of good and bad by -which to try historic characters and events; let us say that Alexander -could have done everything differently; let us say that with -guidance from those who blame him and who profess to know the ultimate -aim of the movement of humanity, he might have arranged matters -according to the program his present accusers would have given him- of -nationality, freedom, equality, and progress (these, I think, cover -the ground). Let us assume that this program was possible and had then -been formulated, and that Alexander had acted on it. What would then -have become of the activity of all those who opposed the tendency that -then prevailed in the government- an activity that in the opinion of -the historians was good and beneficent? Their activity would not -have existed: there would have been no life, there would have been -nothing. - -If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the -possibility of life is destroyed. - -CHAPTER II - -If we assume as the historians do that great men lead humanity to -the attainment of certain ends- the greatness of Russia or of -France, the balance of power in Europe, the diffusion of the ideas -of the Revolution general progress or anything else- then it is -impossible to explain the facts of history without introducing the -conceptions of chance and genius. - -If the aim of the European wars at the beginning of the nineteenth -century had been the aggrandizement of Russia, that aim might have -been accomplished without all the preceding wars and without the -invasion. If the aim wag the aggrandizement of France, that might have -been attained without the Revolution and without the Empire. If the -aim was the dissemination of ideas, the printing press could have -accomplished that much better than warfare. If the aim was the -progress of civilization, it is easy to see that there are other -ways of diffusing civilization more expedient than by the -destruction of wealth and of human lives. - -Why did it happen in this and not in some other way? - -Because it happened so! "Chance created the situation; genius -utilized it," says history. - -But what is chance? What is genius? - -The words chance and genius do not denote any really existing -thing and therefore cannot be defined. Those words only denote a -certain stage of understanding of phenomena. I do not know why a -certain event occurs; I think that I cannot know it; so I do not try -to know it and I talk about chance. I see a force producing effects -beyond the scope of ordinary human agencies; I do not understand why -this occurs and I talk of genius. - -To a herd of rams, the ram the herdsman drives each evening into a -special enclosure to feed and that becomes twice as fat as the -others must seem to be a genius. And it must appear an astonishing -conjunction of genius with a whole series of extraordinary chances -that this ram, who instead of getting into the general fold every -evening goes into a special enclosure where there are oats- that -this very ram, swelling with fat, is killed for meat. - -But the rams need only cease to suppose that all that happens to -them happens solely for the attainment of their sheepish aims; they -need only admit that what happens to them may also have purposes -beyond their ken, and they will at once perceive a unity and coherence -in what happened to the ram that was fattened. Even if they do not -know for what purpose they are fattened, they will at least know -that all that happened to the ram did not happen accidentally, and -will no longer need the conceptions of chance or genius. - -Only by renouncing our claim to discern a purpose immediately -intelligible to us, and admitting the ultimate purpose to be beyond -our ken, may we discern the sequence of experiences in the lives of -historic characters and perceive the cause of the effect they -produce (incommensurable with ordinary human capabilities), and then -the words chance and genius become superfluous. - -We need only confess that we do not know the purpose of the European -convulsions and that we know only the facts- that is, the murders, -first in France, then in Italy, in Africa, in Prussia, in Austria, -in Spain, and in Russia- and that the movements from the west to the -east and from the east to the west form the essence and purpose of -these events, and not only shall we have no need to see exceptional -ability and genius in Napoleon and Alexander, but we shall be unable -to consider them to be anything but like other men, and we shall not -be obliged to have recourse to chance for an explanation of those -small events which made these people what they were, but it will be -clear that all those small events were inevitable. - -By discarding a claim to knowledge of the ultimate purpose, we shall -clearly perceive that just as one cannot imagine a blossom or seed for -any single plant better suited to it than those it produces, so it -is impossible to imagine any two people more completely adapted down -to the smallest detail for the purpose they had to fulfill, than -Napoleon and Alexander with all their antecedents. - -CHAPTER III - -The fundamental and essential significance of the European events of -the beginning of the nineteenth century lies in the movement of the -mass of the European peoples from west to east and afterwards from -east to west. The commencement of that movement was the movement -from west to east. For the peoples of the west to be able to make -their warlike movement to Moscow it was necessary: (1) that they -should form themselves into a military group of a size able to -endure a collision with the warlike military group of the east, (2) -that they should abandon all established traditions and customs, and -(3) that during their military movement they should have at their head -a man who could justify to himself and to them the deceptions, -robberies, and murders which would have to be committed during that -movement. - -And beginning with the French Revolution the old inadequately -large group was destroyed, as well as the old habits and traditions, -and step by step a group was formed of larger dimensions with new -customs and traditions, and a man was produced who would stand at -the head of the coming movement and bear the responsibility for all -that had to be done. - -A man without convictions, without habits, without traditions, -without a name, and not even a Frenchman, emerges- by what seem the -strangest chances- from among all the seething French parties, and -without joining any one of them is borne forward to a prominent -position. - -The ignorance of his colleagues, the weakness and insignificance -of his opponents, the frankness of his falsehoods, and the dazzling -and self-confident limitations of this man raise him to the head of -the army. The brilliant qualities of the soldiers of the army sent -to Italy, his opponents' reluctance to fight, and his own childish -audacity and self-confidence secure him military fame. Innumerable -so called chances accompany him everywhere. The disfavor into which he -falls with the rulers of France turns to his advantage. His attempts -to avoid his predestined path are unsuccessful: he is not received -into the Russian service, and the appointment he seeks in Turkey comes -to nothing. During the war in Italy he is several times on the verge -of destruction and each time is saved in an unexpected manner. Owing -to various diplomatic considerations the Russian armies- just those -which might have destroyed his prestige- do not appear upon the -scene till he is no longer there. - -On his return from Italy he finds the government in Paris in a -process of dissolution in which all those who are in it are inevitably -wiped out and destroyed. And by chance an escape from this dangerous -position presents itself in the form of an aimless and senseless -expedition to Africa. Again so-called chance accompanies him. -Impregnable Malta surrenders without a shot; his most reckless schemes -are crowned with success. The enemy's fleet, which subsequently did -not let a single boat pass, allows his entire army to elude it. In -Africa a whole series of outrages are committed against the almost -unarmed inhabitants. And the men who commit these crimes, especially -their leader, assure themselves that this is admirable, this is glory- -it resembles Caesar and Alexander the Great and is therefore good. - -This ideal of glory and grandeur- which consists not merely in -considering nothing wrong that one does but in priding oneself on -every crime one commits, ascribing to it an incomprehensible -supernatural significance- that ideal, destined to guide this man -and his associates, had scope for its development in Africa. -Whatever he does succeeds. The plague does not touch him. The -cruelty of murdering prisoners is not imputed to him as a fault. His -childishly rash, uncalled-for, and ignoble departure from Africa, -leaving his comrades in distress, is set down to his credit, and again -the enemy's fleet twice lets him slip past. When, intoxicated by the -crimes he has committed so successfully, he reaches Paris, the -dissolution of the republican government, which a year earlier might -have ruined him, has reached its extreme limit, and his presence there -now as a newcomer free from party entanglements can only serve to -exalt him- and though he himself has no plan, he is quite ready for -his new role. - -He had no plan, he was afraid of everything, but the parties -snatched at him and demanded his participation. - -He alone- with his ideal of glory and grandeur developed in Italy -and Egypt, his insane self-adulation, his boldness in crime and -frankness in lying- he alone could justify what had to be done. - -He is needed for the place that awaits him, and so almost apart from -his will and despite his indecision, his lack of a plan, and all his -mistakes, he is drawn into a conspiracy that aims at seizing power and -the conspiracy is crowned with success. - -He is pushed into a meeting of the legislature. In alarm he wishes -to flee, considering himself lost. He pretends to fall into a swoon -and says senseless things that should have ruined him. But the once -proud and shrewd rulers of France, feeling that their part is played -out, are even more bewildered than he, and do not say the words they -should have said to destroy him and retain their power. - -Chance, millions of chances, give him power, and all men as if by -agreement co-operate to confirm that power. Chance forms the -characters of the rulers of France, who submit to him; chance forms -the character of Paul I of Russia who recognizes his government; -chance contrives a plot against him which not only fails to harm him -but confirms his power. Chance puts the Duc d'Enghien in his hands and -unexpectedly causes him to kill him- thereby convincing the mob more -forcibly than in any other way that he had the right, since he had the -might. Chance contrives that though he directs all his efforts to -prepare an expedition against England (which would inevitably have -ruined him) he never carries out that intention, but unexpectedly -falls upon Mack and the Austrians, who surrender without a battle. -Chance and genius give him the victory at Austerlitz; and by chance -all men, not only the French but all Europe- except England which does -not take part in the events about to happen- despite their former -horror and detestation of his crimes, now recognize his authority, the -title he has given himself, and his ideal of grandeur and glory, which -seems excellent and reasonable to them all. - -As if measuring themselves and preparing for the coming movement, -the western forces push toward the east several times in 1805, 1806, -1807, and 1809, gaining strength and growing. In 1811 the group of -people that had formed in France unites into one group with the -peoples of Central Europe. The strength of the justification of the -man who stands at the head of the movement grows with the increased -size of the group. During the ten-year preparatory period this man had -formed relations with all the crowned heads of Europe. The discredited -rulers of the world can oppose no reasonable ideal to the insensate -Napoleonic ideal of glory and grandeur. One after another they -hasten to display their insignificance before him. The King of Prussia -sends his wife to seek the great man's mercy; the Emperor of Austria -considers it a favor that this man receives a daughter the Caesars -into his bed; the Pope, the guardian of all that the nations hold -sacred, utilizes religion for the aggrandizement of the great man. -It is not Napoleon who prepares himself for the accomplishment of -his role, so much as all those round him who prepare him to take on -himself the whole responsibility for what is happening and has to -happen. There is no step, no crime or petty fraud he commits, which in -the mouths of those around him is not at once represented as a great -deed. The most suitable fete the Germans can devise for him is a -celebration of Jena and Auerstadt. Not only is he great, but so are -his ancestors, his brothers, his stepsons, and his brothers-in-law. -Everything is done to deprive him of the remains of his reason and -to prepare him for his terrible part. And when he is ready so too -are the forces. - -The invasion pushes eastward and reaches its final goal- Moscow. -That city is taken; the Russian army suffers heavier losses than the -opposing armies had suffered in the former war from Austerlitz to -Wagram. But suddenly instead of those chances and that genius which -hitherto had so consistently led him by an uninterrupted series of -successes to the predestined goal, an innumerable sequence of -inverse chances occur- from the cold in his head at Borodino to the -sparks which set Moscow on fire, and the frosts- and instead of -genius, stupidity and immeasurable baseness become evident. - -The invaders flee, turn back, flee again, and all the chances are -now not for Napoleon but always against him. - -A countermovement is then accomplished from east to west with a -remarkable resemblance to the preceding movement from west to east. -Attempted drives from east to west- similar to the contrary -movements of 1805, 1807, and 1809- precede the great westward -movement; there is the same coalescence into a group of enormous -dimensions; the same adhesion of the people of Central Europe to the -movement; the same hesitation midway, and the same increasing rapidity -as the goal is approached. - -Paris, the ultimate goal, is reached. The Napoleonic government -and army are destroyed. Napoleon himself is no longer of any -account; all his actions are evidently pitiful and mean, but again -an inexplicable chance occurs. The allies detest Napoleon whom they -regard as the cause of their sufferings. Deprived of power and -authority, his crimes and his craft exposed, he should have appeared -to them what he appeared ten years previously and one year later- an -outlawed brigand. But by some strange chance no one perceives this. -His part is not yet ended. The man who ten years before and a year -later was considered an outlawed brigand is sent to an island two -days' sail from France, which for some reason is presented to him as -his dominion, and guards are given to him and millions of money are -paid him. - -CHAPTER IV - -The flood of nations begins to subside into its normal channels. The -waves of the great movement abate, and on the calm surface eddies -are formed in which float the diplomatists, who imagine that they have -caused the floods to abate. - -But the smooth sea again suddenly becomes disturbed. The -diplomatists think that their disagreements are the cause of this -fresh pressure of natural forces; they anticipate war between their -sovereigns; the position seems to them insoluble. But the wave they -feel to be rising does not come from the quarter they expect. It rises -again from the same point as before- Paris. The last backwash of the -movement from the west occurs: a backwash which serves to solve the -apparently insuperable diplomatic difficulties and ends the military -movement of that period of history. - -The man who had devastated France returns to France alone, without -any conspiracy and without soldiers. Any guard might arrest him, but -by strange chance no one does so and all rapturously greet the man -they cursed the day before and will curse again a month later. - -This man is still needed to justify the final collective act. - -That act is performed. - -The last role is played. The actor is bidden to disrobe and wash off -his powder and paint: he will not be wanted any more. - -And some years pass during which he plays a pitiful comedy to -himself in solitude on his island, justifying his actions by intrigues -and lies when the justification is no longer needed, and displaying to -the whole world what it was that people had mistaken for strength as -long as an unseen hand directed his actions. - -The manager having brought the drama to a close and stripped the -actor shows him to us. - -"See what you believed in! This is he! Do you now see that it was -not he but I who moved you?" - -But dazed by the force of the movement, it was long before people -understood this. - -Still greater coherence and inevitability is seen in the life of -Alexander I, the man who stood at the head of the countermovement from -east to west. - -What was needed for him who, overshadowing others, stood at the head -of that movement from east to west? - -What was needed was a sense of justice and a sympathy with -European affairs, but a remote sympathy not dulled by petty interests; -a moral superiority over those sovereigns of the day who co-operated -with him; a mild and attractive personality; and a personal -grievance against Napoleon. And all this was found in Alexander I; all -this had been prepared by innumerable so-called chances in his life: -his education, his early liberalism, the advisers who surrounded -him, and by Austerlitz, and Tilsit, and Erfurt. - -During the national war he was inactive because he was not needed. -But as soon as the necessity for a general European war presented -itself he appeared in his place at the given moment and, uniting the -nations of Europe, led them to the goal. - -The goal is reached. After the final war of 1815 Alexander possesses -all possible power. How does he use it? - -Alexander I- the pacifier of Europe, the man who from his early -years had striven only for his people's welfare, the originator of the -liberal innovations in his fatherland- now that he seemed to possess -the utmost power and therefore to have the possibility of bringing -about the welfare of his peoples- at the time when Napoleon in exile -was drawing up childish and mendacious plans of how he would have made -mankind happy had he retained power- Alexander I, having fulfilled his -mission and feeling the hand of God upon him, suddenly recognizes -the insignificance of that supposed power, turns away from it, and -gives it into the hands of contemptible men whom he despises, saying -only: - -"Not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy Name!... I too am a man like -the rest of you. Let me live like a man and think of my soul and of -God." - -As the sun and each atom of ether is a sphere complete in itself, -and yet at the same time only a part of a whole too immense for man to -comprehend, so each individual has within himself his own aims and yet -has them to serve a general purpose incomprehensible to man. - -A bee settling on a flower has stung a child. And the child is -afraid of bees and declares that bees exist to sting people. A poet -admires the bee sucking from the chalice of a flower and says it -exists to suck the fragrance of flowers. A beekeeper, seeing the bee -collect pollen from flowers and carry it to the hive, says that it -exists to gather honey. Another beekeeper who has studied the life -of the hive more closely says that the bee gathers pollen dust to feed -the young bees and rear a queen, and that it exists to perpetuate -its race. A botanist notices that the bee flying with the pollen of -a male flower to a pistil fertilizes the latter, and sees in this -the purpose of the bee's existence. Another, observing the migration -of plants, notices that the bee helps in this work, and may say that -in this lies the purpose of the bee. But the ultimate purpose of the -bee is not exhausted by the first, the second, or any of the processes -the human mind can discern. The higher the human intellect rises in -the discovery of these purposes, the more obvious it becomes, that the -ultimate purpose is beyond our comprehension. - -All that is accessible to man is the relation of the life of the bee -to other manifestations of life. And so it is with the purpose of -historic characters and nations. - -CHAPTER V - -Natasha's wedding to Bezukhov, which took place in 1813, was the -last happy event in the family of the old Rostovs. Count Ilya Rostov -died that same year and, as always happens, after the father's death -the family group broke up. - -The events of the previous year: the burning of Moscow and the -flight from it, the death of Prince Andrew, Natasha's despair, Petya's -death, and the old countess' grief fell blow after blow on the old -count's head. He seemed to be unable to understand the meaning of -all these events, and bowed his old head in a spiritual sense as if -expecting and inviting further blows which would finish him. He seemed -now frightened and distraught and now unnaturally animated and -enterprising. - -The arrangements for Natasha's marriage occupied him for a while. He -ordered dinners and suppers and obviously tried to appear cheerful, -but his cheerfulness was not infectious as it used to be: on the -contrary it evoked the compassion of those who knew and liked him. - -When Pierre and his wife had left, he grew very quiet and began to -complain of depression. A few days later he fell ill and took to his -bed. He realized from the first that he would not get up again, -despite the doctor's encouragement. The countess passed a fortnight in -an armchair by his pillow without undressing. Every time she gave -him his medicine he sobbed and silently kissed her hand. On his last -day, sobbing, he asked her and his absent son to forgive him for -having dissipated their property- that being the chief fault of -which he was conscious. After receiving communion and unction he -quietly died; and next day a throng of acquaintances who came to pay -their last respects to the deceased filled the house rented by the -Rostovs. All these acquaintances, who had so often dined and danced at -his house and had so often laughed at him, now said, with a common -feeling of self-reproach and emotion, as if justifying themselves: -"Well, whatever he may have been he was a most worthy man. You don't -meet such men nowadays.... And which of us has not weaknesses of his -own?" - -It was just when the count's affairs had become so involved that -it was impossible to say what would happen if he lived another year -that he unexpectedly died. - -Nicholas was with the Russian army in Paris when the news of his -father's death reached him. He at once resigned his commission, and -without waiting for it to be accepted took leave of absence and went -to Moscow. The state of the count's affairs became quite obvious a -month after his death, surprising everyone by the immense total of -small debts the existence of which no one had suspected. The debts -amounted to double the value of the property. - -Friends and relations advised Nicholas to decline the inheritance. -But he regarded such a refusal as a slur on his father's memory, which -he held sacred, and therefore would not hear of refusing and -accepted the inheritance together with the obligation to pay the -debts. - -The creditors who had so long been silent, restrained by a vague but -powerful influence exerted on them while he lived by the count's -careless good nature, all proceeded to enforce their claims at once. -As always happens in such cases rivalry sprang up as to which should -get paid first, and those who like Mitenka held promissory notes given -them as presents now became the most exacting of the creditors. -Nicholas was allowed no respite and no peace, and those who had seemed -to pity the old man- the cause of their losses (if they were -losses)- now remorselessly pursued the young heir who had -voluntarily undertaken the debts and was obviously not guilty of -contracting them. - -Not one of the plans Nicholas tried succeeded; the estate was sold -by auction for half its value, and half the debts still remained -unpaid. Nicholas accepted thirty thousand rubles offered him by his -brother-in-law Bezukhov to pay off debts he regarded as genuinely -due for value received. And to avoid being imprisoned for the -remainder, as the creditors threatened, he re-entered the government -service. - -He could not rejoin the army where he would have been made colonel -at the next vacancy, for his mother now clung to him as her one hold -on life; and so despite his reluctant to remain in Moscow among people -who had known him before, and despite his abhorrence of the civil -service, he accepted a post in Moscow in that service, doffed the -uniform of which he was so fond, and moved with his mother and Sonya -to a small house on the Sivtsev Vrazhek. - -Natasha and Pierre were living in Petersburg at the time and had -no clear idea of Nicholas' circumstances. Having borrowed money from -his brother-in-law, Nicholas tried to hide his wretched condition from -him. His position was the more difficult because with his salary of -twelve hundred rubles he had not only to keep himself, his mother, and -Sonya, but had to shield his mother from knowledge of their poverty. -The countess could not conceive of life without the luxurious -conditions she had been used to from childhood and, unable to -realize how hard it was for her son, kept demanding now a carriage -(which they did not keep) to send for a friend, now some expensive -article of food for herself, or wine for her son, or money to buy a -present as a surprise for Natasha or Sonya, or for Nicholas himself. - -Sonya kept house, attended on her aunt, read to her, put up with her -whims and secret ill-will, and helped Nicholas to conceal their -poverty from the old countess. Nicholas felt himself irredeemably -indebted to Sonya for all she was doing for his mother and greatly -admired her patience and devotion, but tried to keep aloof from her. - -He seemed in his heart to reproach her for being too perfect, and -because there was nothing to reproach her with. She had all that -people are valued for, but little that could have made him love her. -He felt that the more he valued her the less he loved her. He had -taken her at her word when she wrote giving him his freedom and now -behaved as if all that had passed between them had been long forgotten -and could never in any case be renewed. - -Nicholas' position became worse and worse. The idea of putting -something aside out of his salary proved a dream. Not only did he -not save anything, but to comply with his mother's demands he even -incurred some small debts. He could see no way out of this -situation. The idea of marrying some rich woman, which was suggested -to him by his female relations, was repugnant to him. The other way -out- his mother's death- never entered his head. He wished for nothing -and hoped for nothing, and deep in his heart experienced a gloomy -and stern satisfaction in an uncomplaining endurance of his -position. He tried to avoid his old acquaintances with their -commiseration and offensive offers of assistance; he avoided all -distraction and recreation, and even at home did nothing but play -cards with his mother, pace silently up and down the room, and smoke -one pipe after another. He seemed carefully to cherish within -himself the gloomy mood which alone enabled him to endure his -position. - -CHAPTER VI - -At the beginning of winter Princess Mary came to Moscow. From -reports current in town she learned how the Rostovs were situated, and -how "the son has sacrificed himself for his mother," as people were -saying. - -"I never expected anything else of him," said Princess Mary to -herself, feeling a joyous sense of her love for him. Remembering her -friendly relations with all the Rostovs which had made her almost a -member of the family, she thought it her duty to go to see them. But -remembering her relations with Nicholas in Voronezh she was shy -about doing so. Making a great effort she did however go to call on -them a few weeks after her arrival in Moscow. - -Nicholas was the first to meet her, as the countess' room could only -be reached through his. But instead of being greeted with pleasure -as she had expected, at his first glance at her his face assumed a -cold, stiff, proud expression she had not seen on it before. He -inquired about her health, led the way to his mother, and having sat -there for five minutes left the room. - -When the princess came out of the countess' room Nicholas met her -again, and with marked solemnity and stiffness accompanied her to -the anteroom. To her remarks about his mother's health he made no -reply. "What's that to you? Leave me in peace," his looks seemed to -say. - -"Why does she come prowling here? What does she want? I can't bear -these ladies and all these civilities!" said he aloud in Sonya's -presence, evidently unable to repress his vexation, after the -princess' carriage had disappeared. - -"Oh, Nicholas, how can you talk like that?" cried Sonya, hardly able -to conceal her delight. "She is so kind and Mamma is so fond of her!" - -Nicholas did not reply and tried to avoid speaking of the princess -any more. But after her visit the old countess spoke of her several -times a day. - -She sang her praises, insisted that her son must call on her, -expressed a wish to see her often, but yet always became ill-humored -when she began to talk about her. - -Nicholas tried to keep silence when his mother spoke of the -princess, but his silence irritated her. - -"She is a very admirable and excellent young woman," said she, -"and you must go and call on her. You would at least be seeing -somebody, and I think it must be dull for you only seeing us." - -"But I don't in the least want to, Mamma." - -"You used to want to, and now you don't. Really I don't understand -you, my dear. One day you are dull, and the next you refuse to see -anyone." - -"But I never said I was dull." - -"Why, you said yourself you don't want even to see her. She is a -very admirable young woman and you always liked her, but now -suddenly you have got some notion or other in your head. You hide -everything from me." - -"Not at all, Mamma." - -"If I were asking you to do something disagreeable now- but I only -ask you to return a call. One would think mere politeness required -it.... Well, I have asked you, and now I won't interfere any more -since you have secrets from your mother." - -"Well, then, I'll go if you wish it." - -"It doesn't matter to me. I only wish it for your sake." - -Nicholas sighed, bit his mustache, and laid out the cards for a -patience, trying to divert his mother's attention to another topic. - -The same conversation was repeated next day and the day after, and -the day after that. - -After her visit to the Rostovs and her unexpectedly chilly reception -by Nicholas, Princess Mary confessed to herself that she had been -right in not wishing to be the first to call. - -"I expected nothing else," she told herself, calling her pride to -her aid. "I have nothing to do with him and I only wanted to see the -old lady, who was always kind to me and to whom I am under many -obligations." - -But she could not pacify herself with these reflections; a feeling -akin to remorse troubled her when she thought of her visit. Though she -had firmly resolved not to call on the Rostovs again and to forget the -whole matter, she felt herself all the time in an awkward position. -And when she asked herself what distressed her, she had to admit -that it was her relation to Rostov. His cold, polite manner did not -express his feeling for her (she knew that) but it concealed -something, and until she could discover what that something was, she -felt that she could not be at ease. - -One day in midwinter when sitting in the schoolroom attending to her -nephew's lessons, she was informed that Rostov had called. With a firm -resolution not to betray herself and not show her agitation, she -sent for Mademoiselle Bourienne and went with her to the drawing room. - -Her first glance at Nicholas' face told her that he had only come to -fulfill the demands of politeness, and she firmly resolved to maintain -the tone in which he addressed her. - -They spoke of the countess' health, of their mutual friends, of -the latest war news, and when the ten minutes required by propriety -had elapsed after which a visitor may rise, Nicholas got up to say -good-by. - -With Mademoiselle Bourienne's help the princess had maintained the -conversation very well, but at the very last moment, just when he -rose, she was so tired of talking of what did not interest her, and -her mind was so full of the question why she alone was granted so -little happiness in life, that in a fit of absent-mindedness she sat -still, her luminous eyes gazing fixedly before her, not noticing -that he had risen. - -Nicholas glanced at her and, wishing to appear not to notice her -abstraction, made some remark to Mademoiselle Bourienne and then again -looked at the princess. She still sat motionless with a look of -suffering on her gentle face. He suddenly felt sorry for her and was -vaguely conscious that he might be the cause of the sadness her face -expressed. He wished to help her and say something pleasant, but could -think of nothing to say. - -"Good-by, Princess!" said he. - -She started, flushed, and sighed deeply. - -"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said as if waking up. "Are you going -already, Count? Well then, good-by! Oh, but the cushion for the -countess!" - -"Wait a moment, I'll fetch it," said Mademoiselle Bourienne, and she -left the room. - -They both sat silent, with an occasional glance at one another. - -"Yes, Princess," said Nicholas at last with a sad smile, "it doesn't -seem long ago since we first met at Bogucharovo, but how much water -has flowed since then! In what distress we all seemed to be then, -yet I would give much to bring back that time... but there's no -bringing it back." - -Princess Mary gazed intently into his eyes with her own luminous -ones as he said this. She seemed to be trying to fathom the hidden -meaning of his words which would explain his feeling for her. - -"Yes, yes," said she, "but you have no reason to regret the past, -Count. As I understand your present life, I think you will always -recall it with satisfaction, because the self-sacrifice that fills -it now..." - -"I cannot accept your praise," he interrupted her hurriedly. "On the -contrary I continually reproach myself.... But this is not at all an -interesting or cheerful subject." - -His face again resumed its former stiff and cold expression. But the -princess had caught a glimpse of the man she had known and loved, -and it was to him that she now spoke. - -"I thought you would allow me to tell you this," she said. "I had -come so near to you... and to all your family that I thought you would -not consider my sympathy misplaced, but I was mistaken," and -suddenly her voice trembled. "I don't know why," she continued, -recovering herself, "but you used to be different, and..." - -"There are a thousand reasons why," laying special emphasis on the -why. "Thank you, Princess," he added softly. "Sometimes it is hard." - -"So that's why! That's why!" a voice whispered in Princess Mary's -soul. "No, it was not only that gay, kind, and frank look, not only -that handsome exterior, that I loved in him. I divined his noble, -resolute, self-sacrificing spirit too," she said to herself. "Yes, -he is poor now and I am rich.... Yes, that's the only reason.... -Yes, were it not for that..." And remembering his former tenderness, -and looking now at his kind, sorrowful face, she suddenly understood -the cause of his coldness. - -"But why, Count, why?" she almost cried, unconsciously moving closer -to him. "Why? Tell me. You must tell me!" - -He was silent. - -"I don't understand your why, Count," she continued, "but it's -hard for me... I confess it. For some reason you wish to deprive me of -our former friendship. And that hurts me." There were tears in her -eyes and in her voice. "I have had so little happiness in life that -every loss is hard for me to bear.... Excuse me, good-by!" and -suddenly she began to cry and was hurrying from the room. - -"Princess, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, trying to stop her. -"Princess!" - -She turned round. For a few seconds they gazed silently into one -another's eyes- and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly -became possible, inevitable, and very near. - -CHAPTER VII - -In the winter of 1813 Nicholas married Princess Mary and moved to -Bald Hills with his wife, his mother, and Sonya. - -Within four years he had paid off all his remaining debts without -selling any of his wife's property, and having received a small -inheritance on the death of a cousin he paid his debt to Pierre as -well. - -In another three years, by 1820, he had so managed his affairs -that he was able to buy a small estate adjoining Bald Hills and was -negotiating to buy back Otradnoe- that being his pet dream. - -Having started farming from necessity, he soon grew so devoted to it -that it became his favorite and almost his sole occupation. Nicholas -was a plain farmer: he did not like innovations, especially the -English ones then coming into vogue. He laughed at theoretical -treatises on estate management, disliked factories, the raising of -expensive products, and the buying of expensive seed corn, and did not -make a hobby of any particular part of the work on his estate. He -always had before his mind's eye the estate as a whole and not any -particular part of it. The chief thing in his eyes was not the -nitrogen in the soil, nor the oxygen in the air, nor manures, nor -special plows, but that most important agent by which nitrogen, -oxygen, manure, and plow were made effective- the peasant laborer. -When Nicholas first began farming and began to understand its -different branches, it was the serf who especially attracted his -attention. The peasant seemed to him not merely a tool, but also a -judge of farming and an end in himself. At first he watched the serfs, -trying to understand their aims and what they considered good and bad, -and only pretended to direct them and give orders while in reality -learning from them their methods, their manner of speech, and their -judgment of what was good and bad. Only when he had understood the -peasants' tastes and aspirations, had learned to talk their -language, to grasp the hidden meaning of their words, and felt akin to -them did he begin boldly to manage his serfs, that is, to perform -toward them the duties demanded of him. And Nicholas' management -produced very brilliant results. - -Guided by some gift of insight, on taking up the management of the -estates he at once unerringly appointed as bailiff, village elder, and -delegate, the very men the serfs would themselves have chosen had they -had the right to choose, and these posts never changed hands. Before -analyzing the properties of manure, before entering into the debit and -credit (as he ironically called it), he found out how many cattle -the peasants had and increased the number by all possible means. He -kept the peasant families together in the largest groups possible, not -allowing the family groups to divide into separate households. He -was hard alike on the lazy, the depraved, and the weak, and tried to -get them expelled from the commune. - -He was as careful of the sowing and reaping of the peasants' hay and -corn as of his own, and few landowners had their crops sown and -harvested so early and so well, or got so good a return, as did -Nicholas. - -He disliked having anything to do with the domestic serfs- the -"drones" as he called them- and everyone said he spoiled them by his -laxity. When a decision had to be taken regarding a domestic serf, -especially if one had to be punished, he always felt undecided and -consulted everybody in the house; but when it was possible to have a -domestic serf conscripted instead of a land worker he did so without -the least hesitation. He never felt any hesitation in dealing with the -peasants. He knew that his every decision would be approved by them -all with very few exceptions. - -He did not allow himself either to be hard on or punish a man, or to -make things easy for or reward anyone, merely because he felt inclined -to do so. He could not have said by what standard he judged what he -should or should not do, but the standard was quite firm and -definite in his own mind. - -Often, speaking with vexation of some failure or irregularity, he -would say: "What can one do with our Russian peasants?" and imagined -that he could not bear them. - -Yet he loved "our Russian peasants" and their way of life with his -whole soul, and for that very reason had understood and assimilated -the one way and manner of farming which produced good results. - -Countess Mary was jealous of this passion of her husband's and -regretted that she could not share it; but she could not understand -the joys and vexations he derived from that world, to her so remote -and alien. She could not understand why he was so particularly -animated and happy when, after getting up at daybreak and spending the -whole morning in the fields or on the threshing floor, he returned -from the sowing or mowing or reaping to have tea with her. She did not -understand why he spoke with such admiration and delight of the -farming of the thrifty and well-to-do peasant Matthew Ermishin, who -with his family had carted corn all night; or of the fact that his -(Nicholas') sheaves were already stacked before anyone else had his -harvest in. She did not understand why he stepped out from the -window to the veranda and smiled under his mustache and winked so -joyfully, when warm steady rain began to fall on the dry and thirsty -shoots of the young oats, or why when the wind carried away a -threatening cloud during the hay harvest he would return from the -barn, flushed, sunburned, and perspiring, with a smell of wormwood and -gentian in his hair and, gleefully rubbing his hands, would say: -"Well, one more day and my grain and the peasants' will all be under -cover." - -Still less did she understand why he, kindhearted and always ready -to anticipate her wishes, should become almost desperate when she -brought him a petition from some peasant men or women who had appealed -to her to be excused some work; why he, that kind Nicholas, should -obstinately refuse her, angrily asking her not to interfere in what -was not her business. She felt he had a world apart, which he loved -passionately and which had laws she had not fathomed. - -Sometimes when, trying to understand him, she spoke of the good work -he was doing for his serfs, he would be vexed and reply: "Not in the -least; it never entered my head and I wouldn't do that for their good! -That's all poetry and old wives' talk- all that doing good to one's -neighbor! What I want is that our children should not have to go -begging. I must put our affairs in order while I am alive, that's all. -And to do that, order and strictness are essential.... That's all -about it!" said he, clenching his vigorous fist. "And fairness, of -course," he added, "for if the peasant is naked and hungry and has -only one miserable horse, he can do no good either for himself or -for me." - -And all Nicholas did was fruitful- probably just because he -refused to allow himself to think that he was doing good to others for -virtue's sake. His means increased rapidly; serfs from neighboring -estates came to beg him to buy them, and long after his death the -memory of his administration was devoutly preserved among the serfs. -"He was a master... the peasants' affairs first and then his own. Of -course he was not to be trifled with either- in a word, he was a -real master!" - -CHAPTER VIII - -One matter connected with his management sometimes worried Nicholas, -and that was his quick temper together with his old hussar habit of -making free use of his fists. At first he saw nothing reprehensible in -this, but in the second year of his marriage his view of that form -of punishment suddenly changed. - -Once in summer he had sent for the village elder from Bogucharovo, a -man who had succeeded to the post when Dron died and who was accused -of dishonesty and various irregularities. Nicholas went out into the -porch to question him, and immediately after the elder had given a few -replies the sound of cries and blows were heard. On returning to lunch -Nicholas went up to his wife, who sat with her head bent low over -her embroidery frame, and as usual began to tell her what he had -been doing that morning. Among other things he spoke of the -Bogucharovo elder. Countess Mary turned red and then pale, but -continued to sit with head bowed and lips compressed and gave her -husband no reply. - -"Such an insolent scoundrel!" he cried, growing hot again at the -mere recollection of him. "If he had told me he was drunk and did -not see... But what is the matter with you, Mary?" he suddenly asked. - -Countess Mary raised her head and tried to speak, but hastily looked -down again and her lips puckered. - -"Why, whatever is the matter, my dearest?" - -The looks of the plain Countess Mary always improved when she was in -tears. She never cried from pain or vexation, but always from sorrow -or pity, and when she wept her radiant eyes acquired an irresistible -charm. - -The moment Nicholas took her hand she could no longer restrain -herself and began to cry. - -"Nicholas, I saw it... he was to blame, but why do you... Nicholas!" -and she covered her face with her hands. - -Nicholas said nothing. He flushed crimson, left her side, and -paced up and down the room. He understood what she was weeping -about, but could not in his heart at once agree with her that what -he had regarded from childhood as quite an everyday event was wrong. -"Is it just sentimentality, old wives' tales, or is she right?" he -asked himself. Before he had solved that point he glanced again at her -face filled with love and pain, and he suddenly realized that she -was right and that he had long been sinning against himself. - -"Mary," he said softly, going up to her, "it will never happen -again; I give you my word. Never," he repeated in a trembling voice -like a boy asking for forgiveness. - -The tears flowed faster still from the countess' eyes. She took -his hand and kissed it. - -"Nicholas, when when did you break your cameo?" she asked to -change the subject, looking at his finger on which he wore a ring with -a cameo of Laocoon's head. - -"Today- it was the same affair. Oh, Mary, don't remind me of it!" -and again he flushed. "I give you my word of honor it shan't occur -again, and let this always be a reminder to me," and he pointed to the -broken ring. - -After that, when in discussions with his village elders or -stewards the blood rushed to his face and his fists began to clench, -Nicholas would turn the broken ring on his finger and would drop his -eyes before the man who was making him angry. But he did forget -himself once or twice within a twelvemonth, and then he would go and -confess to his wife, and would again promise that this should really -be the very last time. - -"Mary, you must despise me!" he would say. "I deserve it." - -"You should go, go away at once, if you don't feel strong enough -to control yourself," she would reply sadly, trying to comfort her -husband. - -Among the gentry of the province Nicholas was respected but not -liked. He did not concern himself with the interests of his own class, -and consequently some thought him proud and others thought him stupid. -The whole summer, from spring sowing to harvest, he was busy with -the work on his farm. In autumn he gave himself up to hunting with the -same business like seriousness- leaving home for a month, or even two, -with his hunt. In winter he visited his other villages or spent his -time reading. The books he read were chiefly historical, and on -these he spent a certain sum every year. He was collecting, as he -said, a serious library, and he made it a rule to read through all the -books he bought. He would sit in his study with a grave air, -reading- a task he first imposed upon himself as a duty, but which -afterwards became a habit affording him a special kind of pleasure and -a consciousness of being occupied with serious matters. In winter, -except for business excursions, he spent most of his time at home -making himself one with his family and entering into all the details -of his children's relations with their mother. The harmony between him -and his wife grew closer and closer and he daily discovered fresh -spiritual treasures in her. - -From the time of his marriage Sonya had lived in his house. Before -that, Nicholas had told his wife all that had passed between himself -and Sonya, blaming himself and commending her. He had asked Princess -Mary to be gentle and kind to his cousin. She thoroughly realized -the wrong he had done Sonya, felt herself to blame toward her, and -imagined that her wealth had influenced Nicholas' choice. She could -not find fault with Sonya in any way and tried to be fond of her, -but often felt ill-will toward her which she could not overcome. - -Once she had a talk with her friend Natasha about Sonya and about -her own injustice toward her. - -"You know," said Natasha, "you have read the Gospels a great deal- -there is a passage in them that just fits Sonya." - -"What?" asked Countess Mary, surprised. - -"'To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not -shall be taken away.' You remember? She is one that hath not; why, I -don't know. Perhaps she lacks egotism, I don't know, but from her is -taken away, and everything has been taken away. Sometimes I am -dreadfully sorry for her. Formerly I very much wanted Nicholas to -marry her, but I always had a sort of presentiment that it would not -come off. She is a sterile flower, you know- like some strawberry -blossoms. Sometimes I am sorry for her, and sometimes I think she -doesn't feel it as you or I would." - -Though Countess Mary told Natasha that those words in the Gospel -must be understood differently, yet looking at Sonya she agreed with -Natasha's explanation. It really seemed that Sonya did not feel her -position trying, and had grown quite reconciled to her lot as a -sterile flower. She seemed to be fond not so much of individuals as of -the family as a whole. Like a cat, she had attached herself not to the -people but to the home. She waited on the old countess, petted and -spoiled the children, was always ready to render the small services -for which she had a gift, and all this was unconsciously accepted from -her with insufficient gratitude. - -The country seat at Bald Hills had been rebuilt, though not on the -same scale as under the old prince. - -The buildings, begun under straitened circumstances, were more -than simple. The immense house on the old stone foundations was of -wood, plastered only inside. It had bare deal floors and was furnished -with very simple hard sofas, armchairs, tables, and chairs made by -their own serf carpenters out of their own birchwood. The house was -spacious and had rooms for the house serfs and apartments for -visitors. Whole families of the Rostovs' and Bolkonskis' relations -sometimes came to Bald Hills with sixteen horses and dozens of -servants and stayed for months. Besides that, four times a year, on -the name days and birthdays of the hosts, as many as a hundred -visitors would gather there for a day or two. The rest of the year -life pursued its unbroken routine with its ordinary occupations, and -its breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and suppers, provided out of the -produce of the estate. - -CHAPTER IX - -It was the eve of St. Nicholas, the fifth of December, 1820. Natasha -had been staying at her brother's with her husband and children -since early autumn. Pierre had gone to Petersburg on business of his -own for three weeks as he said, but had remained there nearly seven -weeks and was expected back every minute. - -Besides the Bezukhov family, Nicholas' old friend the retired -General Vasili Dmitrich Denisov was staying with the Rostovs this -fifth of December. - -On the sixth, which was his name day when the house would be full of -visitors, Nicholas knew he would have to exchange his Tartar tunic for -a tail coat, and put on narrow boots with pointed toes, and drive to -the new church he had built, and then receive visitors who would -come to congratulate him, offer them refreshments, and talk about -the elections of the nobility; but he considered himself entitled to -spend the eve of that day in his usual way. He examined the -bailiff's accounts of the village in Ryazan which belonged to his -wife's nephew, wrote two business letters, and walked over to the -granaries, cattle yards and stables before dinner. Having taken -precautions against the general drunkenness to be expected on the -morrow because it was a great saint's day, he returned to dinner, -and without having time for a private talk with his wife sat down at -the long table laid for twenty persons, at which the whole household -had assembled. At that table were his mother, his mother's old lady -companion Belova, his wife, their three children with their -governess and tutor, his wife's nephew with his tutor, Sonya, Denisov, -Natasha, her three children, their governess, and old Michael -Ivanovich, the late prince's architect, who was living on in -retirement at Bald Hills. - -Countess Mary sat at the other end of the table. When her husband -took his place she concluded, from the rapid manner in which after -taking up his table napkin he pushed back the tumbler and wineglass -standing before him, that he was out of humor, as was sometimes the -case when he came in to dinner straight from the farm- especially -before the soup. Countess Mary well knew that mood of his, and when -she herself was in a good frame of mind quietly waited till he had had -his soup and then began to talk to him and make him admit that there -was no cause for his ill-humor. But today she quite forgot that and -was hurt that he should be angry with her without any reason, and -she felt unhappy. She asked him where he had been. He replied. She -again inquired whether everything was going well on the farm. Her -unnatural tone made him wince unpleasantly and he replied hastily. - -"Then I'm not mistaken," thought Countess Mary. "Why is he cross -with me?" She concluded from his tone that he was vexed with her and -wished to end the conversation. She knew her remarks sounded -unnatural, but could not refrain from asking some more questions. - -Thanks to Denisov the conversation at table soon became general -and lively, and she did not talk to her husband. When they left the -table and went as usual to thank the old countess, Countess Mary -held out her hand and kissed her husband, and asked him why he was -angry with her. - -"You always have such strange fancies! I didn't even think of -being angry," he replied. - -But the word always seemed to her to imply: "Yes, I am angry but I -won't tell you why." - -Nicholas and his wife lived together so happily that even Sonya -and the old countess, who felt jealous and would have liked them to -disagree, could find nothing to reproach them with; but even they -had their moments of antagonism. Occasionally, and it was always -just after they had been happiest together, they suddenly had a -feeling of estrangement and hostility, which occurred most -frequently during Countess Mary's pregnancies, and this was such a -time. - -"Well, messieurs et mesdames," said Nicholas loudly and with -apparent cheerfulness (it seemed to Countess Mary that he did it on -purpose to vex her), "I have been on my feet since six this morning. -Tomorrow I shall have to suffer, so today I'll go and rest." - -And without a word to his wife he went to the little sitting room -and lay down on the sofa. - -"That's always the way," thought Countess Mary. "He talks to -everyone except me. I see... I see that I am repulsive to him, -especially when I am in this condition." She looked down at her -expanded figure and in the glass at her pale, sallow, emaciated face -in which her eyes now looked larger than ever. - -And everything annoyed her- Denisov's shouting and laughter, -Natasha's talk, and especially a quick glance Sonya gave her. - -Sonya was always the first excuse Countess Mary found for feeling -irritated. - -Having sat awhile with her visitors without understanding anything -of what they were saying, she softly left the room and went to the -nursery. - -The children were playing at "going to Moscow" in a carriage made of -chairs and invited her to go with them. She sat down and played with -them a little, but the thought of her husband and his unreasonable -crossness worried her. She got up and, walking on tiptoe with -difficulty, went to the small sitting room. - -"Perhaps he is not asleep; I'll have an explanation with him," she -said to herself. Little Andrew, her eldest boy, imitating his -mother, followed her on tiptoe. She not notice him. - -"Mary, dear, I think he is asleep- he was so tired," said Sonya, -meeting her in the large sitting room (it seemed to Countess Mary that -she crossed her path everywhere). "Andrew may wake him." - -Countess Mary looked round, saw little Andrew following her, felt -that Sonya was right, and for that very reason flushed and with -evident difficulty refrained from saying something harsh. She made -no reply, but to avoid obeying Sonya beckoned to Andrew to follow -her quietly and went to the door. Sonya went away by another door. -From the room in which Nicholas was sleeping came the sound of his -even breathing, every slightest tone of which was familiar to his -wife. As she listened to it she saw before her his smooth handsome -forehead, his mustache, and his whole face, as she had so often seen -it in the stillness of the night when he slept. Nicholas suddenly -moved and cleared his throat. And at that moment little Andrew shouted -from outside the door: "Papa! Mamma's standing here!" Countess Mary -turned pale with fright and made signs to the boy. He grew silent, and -quiet ensued for a moment, terrible to Countess Mary. She knew how -Nicholas disliked being waked. Then through the door she heard -Nicholas clearing his throat again and stirring, and his voice said -crossly: - -"I can't get a moment's peace.... Mary, is that you? Why did you -bring him here?" - -"I only came in to look and did not notice... forgive me..." - -Nicholas coughed and said no more. Countess Mary moved away from the -door and took the boy back to the nursery. Five minutes later little -black-eyed three-year-old Natasha, her father's pet, having learned -from her brother that Papa was asleep and Mamma was in the sitting -room, ran to her father unobserved by her mother. The dark-eyed little -girl boldly opened the creaking door, went up to the sofa with -energetic steps of her sturdy little legs, and having examined the -position of her father, who was asleep with his back to her, rose on -tiptoe and kissed the hand which lay under his head. Nicholas turned -with a tender smile on his face. - -"Natasha, Natasha!" came Countess Mary's frightened whisper from the -door. "Papa wants to sleep." - -"No, Mamma, he doesn't want to sleep," said little Natasha with -conviction. "He's laughing." - -Nicholas lowered his legs, rose, and took his daughter in his arms. - -"Come in, Mary," he said to his wife. - -She went in and sat down by her husband. - -"I did not notice him following me," she said timidly. "I just -looked in." - -Holding his little girl with one arm, Nicholas glanced at his wife -and, seeing her guilty expression, put his other arm around her and -kissed her hair. - -"May I kiss Mamma?" he asked Natasha. - -Natasha smiled bashfully. - -"Again!" she commanded, pointing with a peremptory gesture to the -spot where Nicholas had placed the kiss. - -"I don't know why you think I am cross," said Nicholas, replying -to the question he knew was in his wife's mind. - -"You have no idea how unhappy, how lonely, I feel when you are -like that. It always seems to me... " - -"Mary, don't talk nonsense. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he -said gaily. - -"It seems to be that you can't love me, that I am so plain... -always... and now... in this cond..." - -"Oh, how absurd you are! It is not beauty that endears, it's love -that makes us see beauty. It is only Malvinas and women of that kind -who are loved for their beauty. But do I love my wife? I don't love -her, but... I don't know how to put it. Without you, or when something -comes between us like this, I seem lost and can't do anything. Now -do I love my finger? I don't love it, but just try to cut it off! - -"I'm not like that myself, but I understand. So you're not angry -with me?" - -"Awfully angry!" he said, smiling and getting up. And smoothing -his hair he began to pace the room. - -"Do you know, Mary, what I've been thinking?" he began, -immediately thinking aloud in his wife's presence now that they had -made it up. - -He did not ask if she was ready to listen to him. He did not care. A -thought had occurred to him and so it belonged to her also. And he -told her of his intention to persuade Pierre to stay with them till -spring. - -Countess Mary listened till he had finished, made some remark, and -in her turn began thinking aloud. Her thoughts were about the -children. - -"You can see the woman in her already," she said in French, pointing -to little Natasha. "You reproach us women with being illogical. Here -is our logic. I say: 'Papa wants to sleep!' but she says, 'No, he's -laughing.' And she was right," said Countess Mary with a happy smile. - -"Yes, yes." And Nicholas, taking his little daughter in his strong -hand, lifted her high, placed her on his shoulder, held her by the -legs, and paced the room with her. There was an expression of carefree -happiness on the faces of both father and daughter. - -"But you know you may be unfair. You are too fond of this one," -his wife whispered in French. - -"Yes, but what am I to do?... I try not to show..." - -At that moment they heard the sound of the door pulley and footsteps -in the hall and anteroom, as if someone had arrived. - -"Somebody has come." - -"I am sure it is Pierre. I will go and see," said Countess Mary -and left the room. - -In her absence Nicholas allowed himself to give his little -daughter a gallop round the room. Out of breath, he took the -laughing child quickly from his shoulder and pressed her to his heart. -His capers reminded him of dancing, and looking at the child's round -happy little face he thought of what she would be like when he was -an old man, taking her into society and dancing the mazurka with her -as his old father had danced Daniel Cooper with his daughter. - -"It is he, it is he, Nicholas!" said Countess Mary, re-entering -the room a few minutes later. "Now our Natasha has come to life. You -should have seen her ecstasy, and how he caught it for having stayed -away so long. Well, come along now, quick, quick! It's time you two -were parted," she added, looking smilingly at the little girl who -clung to her father. - -Nicholas went out holding the child by the hand. - -Countess Mary remained in the sitting room. - -"I should never, never have believed that one could be so happy," -she whispered to herself. A smile lit up her face but at the same time -she sighed, and her deep eyes expressed a quiet sadness as though -she felt, through her happiness, that there is another sort of -happiness unattainable in this life and of which she involuntarily -thought at that instant. - -CHAPTER X - -Natasha had married in the early spring of 1813, and in 1820 already -had three daughters besides a son for whom she had longed and whom she -was now nursing. She had grown stouter and broader, so that it was -difficult to recognize in this robust, motherly woman the slim, lively -Natasha of former days. Her features were more defined and had a calm, -soft, and serene expression. In her face there was none of the -ever-glowing animation that had formerly burned there and -constituted its charm. Now her face and body were of all that one saw, -and her soul was not visible at all. All that struck the eye was a -strong, handsome, and fertile woman. The old fire very rarely -kindled in her face now. That happened only when, as was the case that -day, her husband returned home, or a sick child was convalescent, or -when she and Countess Mary spoke of Prince Andrew (she never mentioned -him to her husband, who she imagined was jealous of Prince Andrew's -memory), or on the rare occasions when something happened to induce -her to sing, a practice she had quite abandoned since her marriage. At -the rare moments when the old fire did kindle in her handsome, fully -developed body she was even more attractive than in former days. - -Since their marriage Natasha and her husband had lived in Moscow, in -Petersburg, on their estate near Moscow, or with her mother, that is -to say, in Nicholas' house. The young Countess Bezukhova was not often -seen in society, and those who met her there were not pleased with her -and found her neither attractive nor amiable. Not that Natasha liked -solitude- she did not know whether she liked it or not, she even -thought that she did not- but with her pregnancies, her -confinements, the nursing of her children, and sharing every moment of -her husband's life, she had demands on her time which could be -satisfied only by renouncing society. All who had known Natasha before -her marriage wondered at the change in her as at something -extraordinary. Only the old countess with her maternal instinct had -realized that all Natasha's outbursts had been due to her need of -children and a husband- as she herself had once exclaimed at -Otradnoe not so much in fun as in earnest- and her mother was now -surprised at the surprise expressed by those who had never -understood Natasha, and she kept saying that she had always known that -Natasha would make an exemplary wife and mother. - -"Only she lets her love of her husband and children overflow all -bounds," said the countess, "so that it even becomes absurd." - -Natasha did not follow the golden rule advocated by clever folk, -especially by the French, which says that a girl should not let -herself go when she marries, should not neglect her accomplishments, -should be even more careful of her appearance than when she was -unmarried, and should fascinate her husband as much as she did -before he became her husband. Natasha on the contrary had at once -abandoned all her witchery, of which her singing had been an unusually -powerful part. She gave it up just because it was so powerfully -seductive. She took no pains with her manners or with of speech, or -with her toilet, or to show herself to her husband in her most -becoming attitudes, or to avoid inconveniencing him by being too -exacting. She acted in contradiction to all those rules. She felt that -the allurements instinct had formerly taught her to use would now be -merely ridiculous in the eyes of her husband, to whom she had from the -first moment given herself up entirely- that is, with her whole -soul, leaving no corner of it hidden from him. She felt that her unity -with her husband was not maintained by the poetic feelings that had -attracted him to her, but by something else- indefinite but firm as -the bond between her own body and soul. - -To fluff out her curls, put on fashionable dresses, and sing -romantic songs to fascinate her husband would have seemed as strange -as to adorn herself to attract herself. To adorn herself for others -might perhaps have been agreeable- she did not know- but she had no -time at all for it. The chief reason for devoting no time either to -singing, to dress, or to choosing her words was that she really had no -time to spare for these things. - -We know that man has the faculty of becoming completely absorbed -in a subject however trivial it may be, and that there is no subject -so trivial that it will not grow to infinite proportions if one's -entire attention is devoted to it. - -The subject which wholly engrossed Natasha's attention was her -family: that is, her husband whom she had to keep so that he should -belong entirely to her and to the home, and the children whom she -had to bear, bring into the world, nurse, and bring up. - -And the deeper she penetrated, not with her mind only but with her -whole soul, her whole being, into the subject that absorbed her, the -larger did that subject grow and the weaker and more inadequate did -her powers appear, so that she concentrated them wholly on that one -thing and yet was unable to accomplish all that she considered -necessary. - -There were then as now conversations and discussions about women's -rights, the relations of husband and wife and their freedom and -rights, though these themes were not yet termed questions as they -are now; but these topics were not merely uninteresting to Natasha, -she positively did not understand them. - -These questions, then as now, existed only for those who see nothing -in marriage but the pleasure married people get from one another, that -is, only the beginnings of marriage and not its whole significance, -which lies in the family. - -Discussions and questions of that kind, which are like the -question of how to get the greatest gratification from one's dinner, -did not then and do not now exist for those for whom the purpose of -a dinner is the nourishment it affords; and the purpose of marriage is -the family. - -If the purpose of dinner is to nourish the body, a man who eats -two dinners at once may perhaps get more enjoyment but will not attain -his purpose, for his stomach will not digest the two dinners. - -If the purpose of marriage is the family, the person who wishes to -have many wives or husbands may perhaps obtain much pleasure, but in -that case will not have a family. - -If the purpose of food is nourishment and the purpose of marriage is -the family, the whole question resolves itself into not eating more -than one can digest, and not having more wives or husbands than are -needed for the family- that is, one wife or one husband. Natasha -needed a husband. A husband was given her and he gave her a family. -And she not only saw no need of any other or better husband, but as -all the powers of her soul were intent on serving that husband and -family, she could not imagine and saw no interest in imagining how -it would be if things were different. - -Natasha did not care for society in general, but prized the more the -society of her relatives- Countess Mary, and her brother, her -mother, and Sonya. She valued the company of those to whom she could -come striding disheveled from the nursery in her dressing gown, and -with joyful face show a yellow instead of a green stain on baby's -napkin, and from whom she could hear reassuring words to the effect -that baby was much better. - -To such an extent had Natasha let herself go that the way she -dressed and did her hair, her ill-chosen words, and her jealousy- -she was jealous of Sonya, of the governess, and of every woman, pretty -or plain- were habitual subjects of jest to those about her. The -general opinion was that Pierre was under his wife's thumb, which -was really true. From the very first days of their married life -Natasha had announced her demands. Pierre was greatly surprised by his -wife's view, to him a perfectly novel one, that every moment of his -life belonged to her and to the family. His wife's demands -astonished him, but they also flattered him, and he submitted to them. - -Pierre's subjection consisted in the fact that he not only dared not -flirt with, but dared not even speak smilingly to, any other woman; -did not dare dine at the Club as a pastime, did not dare spend money a -whim, and did not dare absent himself for any length of time, except -on business- in which his wife included his intellectual pursuits, -which she did not in the least understand but to which she -attributed great importance. To make up for this, at home Pierre had -the right to regulate his life and that of the whole family exactly as -he chose. At home Natasha placed herself in the position of a slave to -her husband, and the whole household went on tiptoe when he was -occupied- that is, was reading or writing in his study. Pierre had but -to show a partiality for anything to get just what he liked done -always. He had only to express a wish and Natasha would jump up and -run to fulfill it. - -The entire household was governed according to Pierre's supposed -orders, that is, by his wishes which Natasha tried to guess. Their way -of life and place of residence, their acquaintances and ties, -Natasha's occupations, the children's upbringing, were all selected -not merely with regard to Pierre's expressed wishes, but to what -Natasha from the thoughts he expressed in conversation supposed his -wishes to be. And she deduced the essentials of his wishes quite -correctly, and having once arrived at them clung to them -tenaciously. When Pierre himself wanted to change his mind she would -fight him with his own weapons. - -Thus in a time of trouble ever memorable to him after the birth of -their first child who was delicate, when they had to change the wet -nurse three times and Natasha fell ill from despair, Pierre one day -told her of Rousseau's view, with which he quite agreed, that to -have a wet nurse is unnatural and harmful. When her next baby was -born, despite the opposition of her mother, the doctors, and even of -her husband himself- who were all vigorously opposed to her nursing -her baby herself, a thing then unheard of and considered injurious- -she insisted on having her own way, and after that nursed all her -babies herself. - -It very often happened that in a moment of irritation husband and -wife would have a dispute, but long afterwards Pierre to his -surprise and delight would find in his wife's ideas and actions the -very thought against which she had argued, but divested of -everything superfluous that in the excitement of the dispute he had -added when expressing his opinion. - -After seven years of marriage Pierre had the joyous and firm -consciousness that he was not a bad man, and he felt this because he -saw himself reflected in his wife. He felt the good and bad within -himself inextricably mingled and overlapping. But only what was really -good in him was reflected in his wife, all that was not quite good was -rejected. And this was not the result of logical reasoning but was a -direct and mysterious reflection. - -CHAPTER XI - -Two months previously when Pierre was already staying with the -Rostovs he had received a letter from Prince Theodore, asking him to -come to Petersburg to confer on some important questions that were -being discussed there by a society of which Pierre was one of the -principal founders. - -On reading that letter (she always read her husband's letters) -Natasha herself suggested that he should go to Petersburg, though -she would feel his absence very acutely. She attributed immense -importance to all her husband's intellectual and abstract interests -though she did not understand them, and she always dreaded being a -hindrance to him in such matters. To Pierre's timid look of inquiry -after reading the letter she replied by asking him to go, but to fix a -definite date for his return. He was given four weeks' leave of -absence. - -Ever since that leave of absence had expired, more than a -fortnight before, Natasha had been in a constant state of alarm, -depression, and irritability. - -Denisov, now a general on the retired list and much dissatisfied -with the present state of affairs, had arrived during that -fortnight. He looked at Natasha with sorrow and surprise as at a bad -likeness of a person once dear. A dull, dejected look, random replies, -and talk about the nursery was all he saw and heard from his former -enchantress. - -Natasha was sad and irritable all that time, especially when her -mother, her brother, Sonya, or Countess Mary in their efforts to -console her tried to excuse Pierre and suggested reasons for his delay -in returning. - -"It's all nonsense, all rubbish- those discussions which lead to -nothing and all those idiotic societies!" Natasha declared of the very -affairs in the immense importance of which she firmly believed. - -And she would go to the nursery to nurse Petya, her only boy. No one -else could tell her anything so comforting or so reasonable as this -little three-month-old creature when he lay at her breast and she -was conscious of the movement of his lips and the snuffling of his -little nose. That creature said: "You are angry, you are jealous, -you would like to pay him out, you are afraid- but here am I! And I am -he..." and that was unanswerable. It was more than true. - -During that fortnight of anxiety Natasha resorted to the baby for -comfort so often, and fussed over him so much, that she overfed him -and he fell ill. She was terrified by his illness, and yet that was -just what she needed. While attending to him she bore the anxiety -about her husband more easily. - -She was nursing her boy when the sound of Pierre's sleigh was -heard at the front door, and the old nurse- knowing how to please -her mistress- entered the room inaudibly but hurriedly and with a -beaming face. - -"Has he come?" Natasha asked quickly in a whisper, afraid to move -lest she should rouse the dozing baby. - -"He's come, ma'am," whispered the nurse. - -The blood rushed to Natasha's face and her feet involuntarily moved, -but she could not jump up and run out. The baby again opened his -eyes and looked at her. "You're here?" he seemed to be saying, and -again lazily smacked his lips. - -Cautiously withdrawing her breast, Natasha rocked him a little, -handed him to the nurse, and went with rapid steps toward the door. -But at the door she stopped as if her conscience reproached her for -having in her joy left the child too soon, and she glanced round. -The nurse with raised elbows was lifting the infant over the rail of -his cot. - -"Go, ma'am! Don't worry, go!" she whispered, smiling, with the -kind of familiarity that grows up between a nurse and her mistress. - -Natasha ran with light footsteps to the anteroom. - -Denisov, who had come out of the study into the dancing room with -his pipe, now for the first time recognized the old Natasha. A flood -of brilliant, joyful light poured from her transfigured face. - -"He's come!" she exclaimed as she ran past, and Denisov felt that he -too was delighted that Pierre, whom he did not much care for, had -returned. - -On reaching the vestibule Natasha saw a tall figure in a fur coat -unwinding his scarf. "It's he! It's really he! He has come!" she -said to herself, and rushing at him embraced him, pressed his head -to her breast, and then pushed him back and gazed at his ruddy, -happy face, covered with hoarfrost. "Yes, it is he, happy and -contented..." - -Then all at once she remembered the tortures of suspense she had -experienced for the last fortnight, and the joy that had lit up her -face vanished; she frowned and overwhelmed Pierre with a torrent of -reproaches and angry words. - -"Yes, it's all very well for you. You are pleased, you've had a good -time.... But what about me? You might at least have shown -consideration for the children. I am nursing and my milk was -spoiled.... Petya was at death's door. But you were enjoying yourself. -Yes, enjoying..." - -Pierre knew he was not to blame, for he could not have come -sooner; he knew this outburst was unseemly and would blow over in a -minute or two; above all he knew that he himself was bright and happy. -He wanted to smile but dared not even think of doing so. He made a -piteous, frightened face and bent down. - -"I could not, on my honor. But how is Petya?" - -"All right now. Come along! I wonder you're not ashamed! If only you -could see what I was like without you, how I suffered!" - -"You are well?" - -"Come, come!" she said, not letting go of his arm. And they went -to their rooms. - -When Nicholas and his wife came to look for Pierre he was in the -nursery holding his baby son, who was again awake, on his huge right -palm and dandling him. A blissful bright smile was fixed on the baby's -broad face with its toothless open mouth. The storm was long since -over and there was bright, joyous sunshine on Natasha's face as she -gazed tenderly at her husband and child. - -"And have you talked everything well over with Prince Theodore?" she -asked. - -"Yes, capitally." - -"You see, he holds it up." (She meant the baby's head.) "But how -he did frighten me... You've seen the princess? Is it true she's in -love with that..." - -"Yes, just fancy..." - -At that moment Nicholas and Countess Mary came in. Pierre with the -baby on his hand stooped, kissed them, and replied to their inquiries. -But in spite of much that was interesting and had to be discussed, the -baby with the little cap on its unsteady head evidently absorbed all -his attention. - -"How sweet!" said Countess Mary, looking at and playing with the -baby. "Now, Nicholas," she added, turning to her husband, "I can't -understand how it is you don't see the charm of these delicious -marvels." - -"I don't and can't," replied Nicholas, looking coldly at the baby. -"A lump of flesh. Come along, Pierre!" - -"And yet he's such an affectionate father," said Countess Mary, -vindicating her husband, "but only after they are a year old or so..." - -"Now, Pierre nurses them splendidly," said Natasha. "He says his -hand is just made for a baby's seat. Just look!" - -"Only not for this..." Pierre suddenly exclaimed with a laugh, and -shifting the baby he gave him to the nurse. - -CHAPTER XII - -As in every large household, there were at Bald Hills several -perfectly distinct worlds which merged into one harmonious whole, -though each retained its own peculiarities and made concessions to the -others. Every event, joyful or sad, that took place in that house -was important to all these worlds, but each had its own special -reasons to rejoice or grieve over that occurrence independently of the -others. - -For instance, Pierre's return was a joyful and important event and -they all felt it to be so. - -The servants- the most reliable judges of their masters because they -judge not by their conversation or expressions of feeling but by their -acts and way of life- were glad of Pierre's return because they knew -that when he was there Count Nicholas would cease going every day -attend to the estate, and would would be in better spirits and temper, -and also because they would all receive handsome presents for the -holidays. - -The children and their governesses were glad of Pierre's return -because no one else drew them into the social life of the household as -he did. He alone could play on the clavichord that ecossaise (his only -piece) to which, as he said, all possible dances could be danced, -and they felt sure he had brought presents for them all. - -Young Nicholas, now a slim lad of fifteen, delicate and intelligent, -with curly light-brown hair and beautiful eyes, was delighted -because Uncle Pierre as he called him was the object of his -rapturous and passionate affection. No one had instilled into him this -love for Pierre whom he saw only occasionally. Countess Mary who had -brought him up had done her utmost to make him love her husband as she -loved him, and little Nicholas did love his uncle, but loved him -with just a shade of contempt. Pierre, however, he adored. He did -not want to be an hussar or a Knight of St. George like his uncle -Nicholas; he wanted to be learned, wise, and kind like Pierre. In -Pierre's presence his face always shone with pleasure and he flushed -and was breathless when Pierre spoke to him. He did not miss a -single word he uttered, and would afterwards, with Dessalles or by -himself, recall and reconsider the meaning of everything Pierre had -said. Pierre's past life and his unhappiness prior to 1812 (of which -young Nicholas had formed a vague poetic picture from some words he -had overheard), his adventures in Moscow, his captivity, Platon -Karataev (of whom he had heard from Pierre), his love for Natasha -(of whom the lad was also particularly fond), and especially -Pierre's friendship with the father whom Nicholas could not -remember- all this made Pierre in his eyes a hero and a saint. - -From broken remarks about Natasha and his father, from the emotion -with which Pierre spoke of that dead father, and from the careful, -reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him, the boy, who -was only just beginning to guess what love is, derived the notion that -his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his -friend. But the father whom the boy did not remember appeared to him a -divinity who could not be pictured, and of whom he never thought -without a swelling heart and tears of sadness and rapture. So the -boy also was happy that Pierre had arrived. - -The guests welcomed Pierre because he always helped to enliven and -unite any company he was in. - -The grown-up members of the family, not to mention his wife, were -pleased to have back a friend whose presence made life run more -smoothly and peacefully. - -The old ladies were pleased with the presents he brought them, and -especially that Natasha would now be herself again. - -Pierre felt the different outlooks of these various worlds and -made haste to satisfy all their expectations. - -Though the most absent-minded and forgetful of men, Pierre, with the -aid of a list his wife drew up, had now bought everything, not -forgetting his mother- and brother-in-law's commissions, nor the dress -material for a present to Belova, nor toys for his wife's nephews. -In the early days of his marriage it had seemed strange to him that -his wife should expect him not to forget to procure all the things -he undertook to buy, and he had been taken aback by her serious -annoyance when on his first trip he forgot everything. But in time -he grew used to this demand. Knowing that Natasha asked nothing for -herself, and gave him commissions for others only when he himself -had offered to undertake them, he now found an unexpected and -childlike pleasure in this purchase of presents for everyone in the -house, and never forgot anything. If he now incurred Natasha's censure -it was only for buying too many and too expensive things. To her other -defects (as most people thought them, but which to Pierre were -qualities) of untidiness and neglect of herself, she now added -stinginess. - -From the time that Pierre began life as a family man on a footing -entailing heavy expenditure, he had noticed to his surprise that he -spent only half as much as before, and that his affairs- which had -been in disorder of late, chiefly because of his first wife's debts- -had begun to improve. - -Life was cheaper because it was circumscribed: that most expensive -luxury, the kind of life that can be changed at any moment, was no -longer his nor did he wish for it. He felt that his way of life had -now been settled once for all till death and that to change it was not -in his power, and so that way of life proved economical. - -With a merry, smiling face Pierre was sorting his purchases. - -"What do you think of this?" said he, unrolling a piece of stuff -like a shopman. - -Natasha, who was sitting opposite to him with her eldest daughter on -her lap, turned her sparkling eyes swiftly from her husband to the -things he showed her. - -"That's for Belova? Excellent!" She felt the quality of the -material. "It was a ruble an arshin, I suppose?" - -Pierre told her the price. - -"Too dear!" Natasha remarked. "How pleased the children will be -and Mamma too! Only you need not have bought me this," she added, -unable to suppress a smile as she gazed admiringly at a gold comb -set with pearls, of a kind then just coming into fashion. - -"Adele tempted me: she kept on telling me to buy it," returned -Pierre. - -"When am I to wear it?" and Natasha stuck it in her coil of hair. -"When I take little Masha into society? Perhaps they will be -fashionable again by then. Well, let's go now." - -And collecting the presents they went first to the nursery and -then to the old countess' rooms. - -The countess was sitting with her companion Belova, playing -grand-patience as usual, when Pierre and Natasha came into the drawing -room with parcels under their arms. - -The countess was now over sixty, was quite gray, and wore a cap with -a frill that surrounded her face. Her face had shriveled, her upper -lip had sunk in, and her eyes were dim. - -After the deaths of her son and husband in such rapid succession, -she felt herself a being accidentally forgotten in this world and left -without aim or object for her existence. She ate, drank, slept, or -kept awake, but did not live. Life gave her no new impressions. She -wanted nothing from life but tranquillity, and that tranquillity -only death could give her. But until death came she had to go on -living, that is, to use her vital forces. A peculiarity one sees in -very young children and very old people was particularly evident in -her. Her life had no external aims- only a need to exercise her -various functions and inclinations was apparent. She had to eat, -sleep, think, speak, weep, work, give vent to her anger, and so on, -merely because she had a stomach, a brain, muscles, nerves, and a -liver. She did these things not under any external impulse as people -in the full vigor of life do, when behind the purpose for which they -strive that of exercising their functions remains unnoticed. She -talked only because she physically needed to exercise her tongue and -lungs. She cried as a child does, because her nose had to be -cleared, and so on. What for people in their full vigor is an aim -was for her evidently merely a pretext. - -Thus in the morning- especially if she had eaten anything rich the -day before- she felt a need of being angry and would choose as the -handiest pretext Belova's deafness. - -She would begin to say something to her in a low tone from the other -end of the room. - -"It seems a little warmer today, my dear," she would murmur. - -And when Belova replied: "Oh yes, they've come," she would mutter -angrily: "O Lord! How stupid and deaf she is!" - -Another pretext would be her snuff, which would seem too dry or -too damp or not rubbed fine enough. After these fits of irritability -her face would grow yellow, and her maids knew by infallible -symptoms when Belova would again be deaf, the snuff damp, and the -countess' face yellow. Just as she needed to work off her spleen so -she had sometimes to exercise her still-existing faculty of -thinking- and the pretext for that was a game of patience. When she -needed to cry, the deceased count would be the pretext. When she -wanted to be agitated, Nicholas and his health would be the pretext, -and when she felt a need to speak spitefully, the pretext would be -Countess Mary. When her vocal organs needed exercise, which was -usually toward seven o'clock when she had had an after-dinner rest -in a darkened room, the pretext would be the retelling of the same -stories over and over again to the same audience. - -The old lady's condition was understood by the whole household -though no one ever spoke of it, and they all made every possible -effort to satisfy her needs. Only by a rare glance exchanged with a -sad smile between Nicholas, Pierre, Natasha, and Countess Mary was the -common understanding of her condition expressed. - -But those glances expressed something more: they said that she had -played her part in life, that what they now saw was not her whole -self, that we must all become like her, and that they were glad to -yield to her, to restrain themselves for this once precious being -formerly as full of life as themselves, but now so much to be -pitied. "Memento mori," said these glances. - -Only the really heartless, the stupid ones of that household, and -the little children failed to understand this and avoided her. - -CHAPTER XIII - -When Pierre and his wife entered the drawing room the countess was -in one of her customary states in which she needed the mental exertion -of playing patience, and so- though by force of habit she greeted -him with the words she always used when Pierre or her son returned -after an absence: "High time, my dear, high time! We were all weary of -waiting for you. Well, thank God!" and received her presents with -another customary remark: "It's not the gift that's precious, my dear, -but that you give it to me, an old woman..."- yet it was evident -that she was not pleased by Pierre's arrival at that moment when it -diverted her attention from the unfinished game. - -She finished her game of patience and only then examined the -presents. They consisted of a box for cards, of splendid -workmanship, a bright-blue Sevres tea cup with shepherdesses -depicted on it and with a lid, and a gold snuffbox with the count's -portrait on the lid which Pierre had had done by a miniaturist in -Petersburg. The countess had long wished for such a box, but as she -did not want to cry just then she glanced indifferently at the -portrait and gave her attention chiefly to the box for cards. - -"Thank you, my dear, you have cheered me up," said she as she always -did. "But best of all you have brought yourself back- for I never -saw anything like it, you ought to give your wife a scolding! What are -we to do with her? She is like a mad woman when you are away. -Doesn't see anything, doesn't remember anything," she went on, -repeating her usual phrases. "Look, Anna Timofeevna," she added to her -companion, "see what a box for cards my son has brought us!" - -Belova admired the presents and was delighted with her dress -material. - -Though Pierre, Natasha, Nicholas, Countess Mary, and Denisov had -much to talk about that they could not discuss before the old -countess- not that anything was hidden from her, but because she had -dropped so far behindhand in many things that had they begun to -converse in her presence they would have had to answer inopportune -questions and to repeat what they had already told her many times: -that so-and-so was dead and so-and-so was married, which she would -again be unable to remember- yet they sat at tea round the samovar -in the drawing room from habit, and Pierre answered the countess' -questions as to whether Prince Vasili had aged and whether Countess -Mary Alexeevna had sent greetings and still thought of them, and other -matters that interested no one and to which she herself was -indifferent. - -Conversation of this kind, interesting to no one yet unavoidable, -continued all through teatime. All the grown-up members of the -family were assembled near the round tea table at which Sonya presided -beside the samovar. The children with their tutors and governesses had -had tea and their voices were audible from the next room. At tea all -sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small -table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi -bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and -large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the -armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers -had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's -tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess. He -spoke of what he knew might interest the old lady and that she could -understand. He told her of external social events and of the people -who had formed the circle of her contemporaries and had once been a -real, living, and distinct group, but who were now for the most part -scattered about the world and like herself were garnering the last -ears of the harvests they had sown in earlier years. But to the old -countess those contemporaries of hers seemed to be the only serious -and real society. Natasha saw by Pierre's animation that his visit had -been interesting and that he had much to tell them but dare not say it -before the old countess. Denisov, not being a member of the family, -did not understand Pierre's caution and being, as a malcontent, much -interested in what was occurring in Petersburg, kept urging Pierre -to tell them about what had happened in the Semenovsk regiment, then -about Arakcheev, and then about the Bible Society. Once or twice -Pierre was carried away and began to speak of these things, but -Nicholas and Natasha always brought him back to the health of Prince -Ivan and Countess Mary Alexeevna. - -"Well, and all this idiocy- Gossner and Tatawinova?" Denisov -asked. "Is that weally still going on?" - -"Going on?" Pierre exclaimed. "Why more than ever! The Bible Society -is the whole government now!" - -"What is that, mon cher ami?" asked the countess, who had -finished her tea and evidently needed a pretext for being angry -after her meal. "What are you saying about the government? I don't -understand." - -"Well, you know, Maman," Nicholas interposed, knowing how to -translate things into his mother's language, "Prince Alexander -Golitsyn has founded a society and in consequence has great influence, -they say." - -"Arakcheev and Golitsyn," incautiously remarked Pierre, "are now the -whole government! And what a government! They see treason everywhere -and are afraid of everything." - -"Well, and how is Prince Alexander to blame? He is a most -estimable man. I used to meet him at Mary Antonovna's," said the -countess in an offended tone; and still more offended that they all -remained silent, she went on: "Nowadays everyone finds fault. A Gospel -Society! Well, and what harm is there in that?" and she rose -(everybody else got up too) and with a severe expression sailed back -to her table in the sitting room. - -The melancholy silence that followed was broken by the sounds of the -children's voices and laughter from the next room. Evidently some -jolly excitement was going on there. - -"Finished, finished!" little Natasha's gleeful yell rose above -them all. - -Pierre exchanged glances with Countess Mary and Nicholas (Natasha he -never lost sight of) and smiled happily. - -"That's delightful music!" said he. - -"It means that Anna Makarovna has finished her stocking," said -Countess Mary. - -"Oh, I'll go and see," said Pierre, jumping up. "You know," he -added, stopping at the door, "why I'm especially fond of that music? -It is always the first thing that tells me all is well. When I was -driving here today, the nearer I got to the house the more anxious I -grew. As I entered the anteroom I heard Andrusha's peals of laughter -and that meant that all was well." - -"I know! I know that feeling," said Nicholas. "But I mustn't go -there- those stockings are to be a surprise for me." - -Pierre went to the children, and the shouting and laughter grew -still louder. - -"Come, Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard saying, "come -here into the middle of the room and at the word of command, 'One, -two,' and when I say 'three'... You stand here, and you in my arms- -well now! One, two!..." said Pierre, and a silence followed: -"three!" and a rapturously breathless cry of children's voices -filled the room. "Two, two!" they shouted. - -This meant two stockings, which by a secret process known only to -herself Anna Makarovna used to knit at the same time on the same -needles, and which, when they were ready, she always triumphantly -drew, one out of the other, in the children's presence. - -CHAPTER XIV - -Soon after this the children came in to say good night. They -kissed everyone, the tutors and governesses made their bows, and -they went out. Only young Nicholas and his tutor remained. Dessalles -whispered to the boy to come downstairs. - -"No, Monsieur Dessalles, I will ask my aunt to let me stay," replied -Nicholas Bolkonski also in a whisper. - -"Ma tante, please let me stay," said he, going up to his aunt. - -His face expressed entreaty, agitation, and ecstasy. Countess Mary -glanced at him and turned to Pierre. - -"When you are here he can't tear himself away," she said. - -"I will bring him to you directly, Monsieur Dessalles. Good -night!" said Pierre, giving his hand to the Swiss tutor, and he turned -to young Nicholas with a smile. "You and I haven't seen anything of -one another yet... How like he is growing, Mary!" he added, addressing -Countess Mary. - -"Like my father?" asked the boy, flushing crimson and looking up -at Pierre with bright, ecstatic eyes. - -Pierre nodded, and went on with what he had been saying when the -children had interrupted. Countess Mary sat down doing woolwork; -Natasha did not take her eyes off her husband. Nicholas and Denisov -rose, asked for their pipes, smoked, went to fetch more tea from -Sonya- who sat weary but resolute at the samovar- and questioned -Pierre. The curly-headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed -in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to -himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he -turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down -collar, toward the place where Pierre sat. - -The conversation turned on the contemporary gossip about those in -power, in which most people see the chief interest of home politics. -Denisov, dissatisfied with the government on account of his own -disappointments in the service, heard with pleasure of the things done -in Petersburg which seemed to him stupid, and made forcible and -sharp comments on what Pierre told them. - -"One used to have to be a German- now one must dance with Tatawinova -and Madame Kwudener, and wead Ecka'tshausen and the bwethwen. Oh, they -should let that fine fellow Bonaparte lose- he'd knock all this -nonsense out of them! Fancy giving the command of the Semenov wegiment -to a fellow like that Schwa'tz!" he cried. - -Nicholas, though free from Denisov's readiness to find fault with -everything, also thought that discussion of the government was a -very serious and weighty matter, and the fact that A had been -appointed Minister of This and B Governor General of That, and that -the Emperor had said so-and-so and this minister so-and-so, seemed -to him very important. And so he thought it necessary to take an -interest in these things and to question Pierre. The questions put -by these two kept the conversation from changing its ordinary -character of gossip about the higher government circles. - -But Natasha, knowing all her husband's ways and ideas, saw that he -had long been wishing but had been unable to divert the conversation -to another channel and express his own deeply felt idea for the sake -of which he had gone to Petersburg to consult with his new friend -Prince Theodore, and she helped him by asking how his affairs with -Prince Theodore had gone. - -"What was it about?" asked Nicholas. - -"Always the same thing," said Pierre, looking round at his -listeners. "Everybody sees that things are going so badly that they -cannot be allowed to go on so and that it is the duty of all decent -men to counteract it as far as they can." - -"What can decent men do?" Nicholas inquired, frowning slightly. -"What can be done?" - -"Why, this..." - -"Come into my study," said Nicholas. - -Natasha, who had long expected to be fetched to nurse her baby, -now heard the nurse calling her and went to the nursery. Countess Mary -followed her. The men went into the study and little Nicholas -Bolkonski followed them unnoticed by his uncle and sat down at the -writing table in a shady corner by the window. - -"Well, what would you do?" asked Denisov. - -"Always some fantastic schemes," said Nicholas. - -"Why this," began Pierre, not sitting down but pacing the room, -sometimes stopping short, gesticulating, and lisping: "the position in -Petersburg is this: the Emperor does not look into anything. He has -abandoned himself altogether to this mysticism" (Pierre could not -tolerate mysticism in anyone now). "He seeks only for peace, and -only these people sans foi ni loi~{ Without faith or law. }~ can give it him- people who -recklessly hack at and strangle everything- Magnitski, Arakcheev, -and tutti quanti.... You will agree that if you did not look after -your estates yourself but only wanted a quiet life, the harsher your -steward was the more readily your object might be attained," he said -to Nicholas. - -"Well, what does that lead up to?" said Nicholas. - -"Well, everything is going to ruin! Robbery in the law courts, in -the army nothing but flogging, drilling, and Military Settlements; the -people are tortured, enlightenment is suppressed. All that is young -and honest is crushed! Everyone sees that this cannot go on. -Everything is strained to such a degree that it will certainly break," -said Pierre (as those who examine the actions of any government have -always said since governments began). "I told them just one thing in -Petersburg." - -"Told whom?" - -"Well, you know whom," said Pierre, with a meaning glance from under -his brows. "Prince Theodore and all those. To encourage culture and -philanthropy is all very well of course. The aim is excellent but in -the present circumstances something else is needed." - -At that moment Nicholas noticed the presence of his nephew. His face -darkened and he went up to the boy. - -"Why are you here?" - -"Why? Let him be," said Pierre, taking Nicholas by the arm and -continuing. "That is not enough, I told them. Something else is -needed. When you stand expecting the overstrained string to snap at -any moment, when everyone is expecting the inevitable catastrophe, -as many as possible must join hands as closely as they can to -withstand the general calamity. Everything that is young and strong is -being enticed away and depraved. One is lured by women, another by -honors, a third by ambition or money, and they go over to that camp. -No independent men, such as you or I, are left. What I say is widen -the scope of our society, let the mot d'ordre be not virtue alone -but independence and action as well!" - -Nicholas, who had left his nephew, irritably pushed up an -armchair, sat down in it, and listened to Pierre, coughing -discontentedly and frowning more and more. - -"But action with what aim?" he cried. "And what position will you -adopt toward the government?" - -"Why, the position of assistants. The society need not be secret -if the government allows it. Not merely is it not hostile to -government, but it is a society of true conservatives- a society of -gentlemen in the full meaning of that word. It is only to prevent some -Pugachev or other from killing my children and yours, and Arakcheev -from sending me off to some Military Settlement. We join hands only -for the public welfare and the general safety." - -"Yes, but it's a secret society and therefore a hostile and -harmful one which can only cause harm." - -"Why? Did the Tugendbund which saved Europe" (they did not then -venture to suggest that Russia had saved Europe) "do any harm? The -Tugendbund is an alliance of virtue: it is love, mutual help... it -is what Christ preached on the Cross." - -Natasha, who had come in during the conversation, looked joyfully at -her husband. It was not what he was saying that pleased her- that -did not even interest her, for it seemed to her that was all extremely -simple and that she had known it a long time (it seemed so to her -because she knew that it sprang from Pierre's whole soul), but it -was his animated and enthusiastic appearance that made her glad. - -The boy with the thin neck stretching out from the turn-down collar- -whom everyone had forgotten- gazed at Pierre with even greater and -more rapturous joy. Every word of Pierre's burned into his heart, -and with a nervous movement of his fingers he unconsciously broke -the sealing wax and quill pens his hands came upon on his uncle's -table. - -"It is not at all what you suppose; but that is what the German -Tugendbund was, and what I am proposing." - -"No, my fwiend! The Tugendbund is all vewy well for the sausage -eaters, but I don't understand it and can't even pwonounce it," -interposed Denisov in a loud and resolute voice. "I agwee that -evewything here is wotten and howwible, but the Tugendbund I don't -understand. If we're not satisfied, let us have a bunt of our own. -That's all wight. Je suis vot'e homme!"~{ "I'm your man." }~ - -Pierre smiled, Natasha began to laugh, but Nicholas knitted his -brows still more and began proving to Pierre that there was no -prospect of any great change and that all the danger he spoke of -existed only in his imagination. Pierre maintained the contrary, and -as his mental faculties were greater and more resourceful, Nicholas -felt himself cornered. This made him still angrier, for he was fully -convinced, not by reasoning but by something within him stronger -than reason, of the justice of his opinion. - -"I will tell you this," he said, rising and trying with nervously -twitching fingers to prop up his pipe in a corner, but finally -abandoning the attempt. "I can't prove it to you. You say that -everything here is rotten and that an overthrow is coming: I don't see -it. But you also say that our oath of allegiance is a conditional -matter, and to that I reply: 'You are my best friend, as you know, but -if you formed a secret society and began working against the -government- be it what it may- I know it is my duty to obey the -government. And if Arakcheev ordered me to lead a squadron against you -and cut you down, I should not hesitate an instant, but should do it.' -And you may argue about that as you like!" - -An awkward silence followed these words. Natasha was the first to -speak, defending her husband and attacking her brother. Her defense -was weak and inapt but she attained her object. The conversation was -resumed, and no longer in the unpleasantly hostile tone of Nicholas' -last remark. - -When they all got up to go in to supper, little Nicholas Bolkonski -went up to Pierre, pale and with shining, radiant eyes. - -"Uncle Pierre, you... no... If Papa were alive... would he agree -with you?" he asked. - -And Pierre suddenly realized what a special, independent, complex, -and powerful process of thought and feeling must have been going on in -this boy during that conversation, and remembering all he had said -he regretted that the lad should have heard him. He had, however, to -give him an answer. - -"Yes, I think so," he said reluctantly, and left the study. - -The lad looked down and seemed now for the first time to notice what -he had done to the things on the table. He flushed and went up to -Nicholas. - -"Uncle, forgive me, I did that... unintentionally," he said, -pointing to the broken sealing wax and pens. - -Nicholas started angrily. - -"All right, all right," he said, throwing the bits under the table. - -And evidently suppressing his vexation with difficulty, he turned -away from the boy. - -"You ought not to have been here at all," he said. - -CHAPTER XV - -The conversation at supper was not about politics or societies, -but turned on the subject Nicholas liked best- recollections of -1812. Denisov started these and Pierre was particularly agreeable -and amusing about them. The family separated on the most friendly -terms. - -After supper Nicholas, having undressed in his study and given -instructions to the steward who had been waiting for him, went to -the bedroom in his dressing gown, where he found his wife still at her -table, writing. - -"What are you writing, Mary?" Nicholas asked. - -Countess Mary blushed. She was afraid that what she was writing -would not be understood or approved by her husband. - -She had wanted to conceal what she was writing from him, but at -the same time was glad he had surprised her at it and that she would -now have to tell him. - -"A diary, Nicholas," she replied, handing him a blue exercise book -filled with her firm, bold writing. - -"A diary?" Nicholas repeated with a shade of irony, and he took up -the book. - -It was in French. - -December 4. Today when Andrusha (her eldest boy) woke up he did -not wish to dress and Mademoiselle Louise sent for me. He was -naughty and obstinate. I tried threats, but he only grew angrier. Then -I took the matter in hand: I left him alone and began with nurse's -help to get the other children up, telling him that I did not love -him. For a long time he was silent, as if astonished, then he jumped -out of bed, ran to me in his shirt, and sobbed so that I could not -calm him for a long time. It was plain that what troubled him most was -that he had grieved me. Afterwards in the evening when I gave him -his ticket, he again began crying piteously and kissing me. One can do -anything with him by tenderness. - -"What is a 'ticket'?" Nicholas inquired. - -"I have begun giving the elder ones marks every evening, showing how -they have behaved." - -Nicholas looked into the radiant eyes that were gazing at him, and -continued to turn over the pages and read. In the diary was set down -everything in the children's lives that seemed noteworthy to their -mother as showing their characters or suggesting general reflections -on educational methods. They were for the most part quite -insignificant trifles, but did not seem so to the mother or to the -father either, now that he read this diary about his children for -the first time. - -Under the date "5" was entered: - -Mitya was naughty at table. Papa said he was to have no pudding. -He had none, but looked so unhappily and greedily at the others -while they were eating! I think that punishment by depriving -children of sweets only develops their greediness. Must tell -Nicholas this. - -Nicholas put down the book and looked at his wife. The radiant -eyes gazed at him questioningly: would he approve or disapprove of her -diary? There could be no doubt not only of his approval but also of -his admiration for his wife. - -Perhaps it need not be done so pedantically, thought Nicholas, or -even done at all, but this untiring, continual spiritual effort of -which the sole aim was the children's moral welfare delighted him. Had -Nicholas been able to analyze his feelings he would have found that -his steady, tender, and proud love of his wife rested on his feeling -of wonder at her spirituality and at the lofty moral world, almost -beyond his reach, in which she had her being. - -He was proud of her intelligence and goodness, recognized his own -insignificance beside her in the spiritual world, and rejoiced all the -more that she with such a soul not only belonged to him but was part -of himself. - -"I quite, quite approve, my dearest!" said he with a significant -look, and after a short pause he added: "And I behaved badly today. -You weren't in the study. We began disputing- Pierre and I- and I lost -my temper. But he is impossible: such a child! I don't know what would -become of him if Natasha didn't keep him in hand.... Have you any idea -why he went to Petersburg? They have formed..." - -"Yes, I know," said Countess Mary. "Natasha told me." - -"Well, then, you know," Nicholas went on, growing hot at the mere -recollection of their discussion, "he wanted to convince me that it is -every honest man's duty to go against the government, and that the -oath of allegiance and duty... I am sorry you weren't there. They -all fell on me- Denisov and Natasha... Natasha is absurd. How she -rules over him! And yet there need only be a discussion and she has no -words of her own but only repeats his sayings..." added Nicholas, -yielding to that irresistible inclination which tempts us to judge -those nearest and dearest to us. He forgot that what he was saying -about Natasha could have been applied word for word to himself in -relation to his wife. - -"Yes, I have noticed that," said Countess Mary. - -"When I told him that duty and the oath were above everything, he -started proving goodness knows what! A pity you were not there- what -would you have said?" - -"As I see it you were quite right, and I told Natasha so. Pierre -says everybody is suffering, tortured, and being corrupted, and that -it is our duty to help our neighbor. Of course he is right there," -said Countess Mary, "but he forgets that we have other duties nearer -to us, duties indicated to us by God Himself, and that though we might -expose ourselves to risks we must not risk our children." - -"Yes, that's it! That's just what I said to him," put in Nicholas, -who fancied he really had said it. "But they insisted on their own -view: love of one's neighbor and Christianity- and all this in the -presence of young Nicholas, who had gone into my study and broke all -my things." - -"Ah, Nicholas, do you know I am often troubled about little -Nicholas," said Countess Mary. "He is such an exceptional boy. I am -afraid I neglect him in favor of my own: we all have children and -relations while he has no one. He is constantly alone with his -thoughts." - -"Well, I don't think you need reproach yourself on his account. -All that the fondest mother could do for her son you have done and are -doing for him, and of course I am glad of it. He is a fine lad, a fine -lad! This evening he listened to Pierre in a sort of trance, and -fancy- as we were going in to supper I looked and he had broken -everything on my table to bits, and he told me of it himself at -once! I never knew him to tell an untruth. A fine lad, a fine lad!" -repeated Nicholas, who at heart was not fond of Nicholas Bolkonski but -was always anxious to recognize that he was a fine lad. - -"Still, I am not the same as his own mother," said Countess Mary. "I -feel I am not the same and it troubles me. A wonderful boy, but I am -dreadfully afraid for him. It would be good for him to have -companions." - -"Well it won't be for long. Next summer I'll take him to -Petersburg," said Nicholas. "Yes, Pierre always was a dreamer and -always will be," he continued, returning to the talk in the study -which had evidently disturbed him. "Well, what business is it of -mine what goes on there- whether Arakcheev is bad, and all that? -What business was it of mine when I married and was so deep in debt -that I was threatened with prison, and had a mother who could not -see or understand it? And then there are you and the children and -our affairs. Is it for my own pleasure that I am at the farm or in the -office from morning to night? No, but I know I must work to comfort my -mother, to repay you, and not to leave the children such beggars as -I was." - -Countess Mary wanted to tell him that man does not live by bread -alone and that he attached too much importance to these matters. But -she knew she must not say this and that it would be useless to do -so. She only took his hand and kissed it. He took this as a sign of -approval and a confirmation of his thoughts, and after a few -minutes' reflection continued to think aloud. - -"You know, Mary, today Elias Mitrofanych" (this was his overseer) -"came back from the Tambov estate and told me they are already -offering eighty thousand rubles for the forest." - -And with an eager face Nicholas began to speak of the possibility of -repurchasing Otradnoe before long, and added: "Another ten years of -life and I shall leave the children... in an excellent position." - -Countess Mary listened to her husband and understood all that he -told her. She knew that when he thought aloud in this way he would -sometimes ask her what he had been saying, and be vexed if he -noticed that she had been thinking about something else. But she had -to force herself to attend, for what he was saying did not interest -her at all. She looked at him and did not think, but felt, about -something different. She felt a submissive tender love for this man -who would never understand all that she understood, and this seemed to -make her love for him still stronger and added a touch of passionate -tenderness. Besides this feeling which absorbed her altogether and -hindered her from following the details of her husband's plans, -thoughts that had no connection with what he was saying flitted -through her mind. She thought of her nephew. Her husband's account -of the boy's agitation while Pierre was speaking struck her -forcibly, and various traits of his gentle, sensitive character -recurred to her mind; and while thinking of her nephew she thought -also of her own children. She did not compare them with him, but -compared her feeling for them with her feeling for him, and felt -with regret that there was something lacking in her feeling for -young Nicholas. - -Sometimes it seemed to her that this difference arose from the -difference in their ages, but she felt herself to blame toward him and -promised in her heart to do better and to accomplish the impossible- -in this life to love her husband, her children, little Nicholas, and -all her neighbors, as Christ loved mankind. Countess Mary's soul -always strove toward the infinite, the eternal, and the absolute, -and could therefore never be at peace. A stern expression of the -lofty, secret suffering of a soul burdened by the body appeared on her -face. Nicholas gazed at her. "O God! What will become of us if she -dies, as I always fear when her face is like that?" thought he, and -placing himself before the icon he began to say his evening prayers. - -CHAPTER XVI - -Natasha and Pierre, left alone, also began to talk as only a husband -and wife can talk, that is, with extraordinary clearness and rapidity, -understanding and expressing each other's thoughts in ways contrary to -all rules of logic, without premises, deductions, or conclusions, -and in a quite peculiar way. Natasha was so used to this kind of -talk with her husband that for her it was the surest sign of something -being wrong between them if Pierre followed a line of logical -reasoning. When he began proving anything, or talking -argumentatively and calmly and she, led on by his example, began to do -the same, she knew that they were on the verge of a quarrel. - -From the moment they were alone and Natasha came up to him with -wide-open happy eyes, and quickly seizing his head pressed it to her -bosom, saying: "Now you are all mine, mine! You won't escape!"- from -that moment this conversation began, contrary to all the laws of logic -and contrary to them because quite different subjects were talked -about at one and the same time. This simultaneous discussion of many -topics did not prevent a clear understanding but on the contrary was -the surest sign that they fully understood one another. - -Just as in a dream when all is uncertain, unreasoning, and -contradictory, except the feeling that guides the dream, so in this -intercourse contrary to all laws of reason, the words themselves -were not consecutive and clear but only the feeling that prompted -them. - -Natasha spoke to Pierre about her brother's life and doings, of -how she had suffered and lacked life during his own absence, and of -how she was fonder than ever of Mary, and how Mary was in every way -better than herself. In saying this Natasha was sincere in -acknowledging Mary's superiority, but at the same time by saying it -she made a demand on Pierre that he should, all the same, prefer her -to Mary and to all other women, and that now, especially after -having seen many women in Petersburg, he should tell her so afresh. - -Pierre, answering Natasha's words, told her how intolerable it had -been for him to meet ladies at dinners and balls in Petersburg. - -"I have quite lost the knack of talking to ladies," he said. "It was -simply dull. Besides, I was very busy." - -Natasha looked intently at him and went on: - -"Mary is so splendid," she said. "How she understands children! It -is as if she saw straight into their souls. Yesterday, for instance, -Mitya was naughty..." - -"How like his father he is," Pierre interjected. - -Natasha knew why he mentioned Mitya's likeness to Nicholas: the -recollection of his dispute with his brother-in-law was unpleasant and -he wanted to know what Natasha thought of it. - -"Nicholas has the weakness of never agreeing with anything not -generally accepted. But I understand that you value what opens up a -fresh line," said she, repeating words Pierre had once uttered. - -"No, the chief point is that to Nicholas ideas and discussions are -an amusement- almost a pastime," said Pierre. "For instance, he is -collecting a library and has made it a rule not to buy a new book till -he has read what he had already bought- Sismondi and Rousseau and -Montesquieu," he added with a smile. "You know how much I..." he began -to soften down what he had said; but Natasha interrupted him to show -that this was unnecessary. - -"So you say ideas are an amusement to him...." - -"Yes, and for me nothing else is serious. All the time in Petersburg -I saw everyone as in a dream. When I am taken up by a thought, all -else is mere amusement." - -"Ah, I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you met the children," said -Natasha. "Which was most delighted? Lisa, I'm sure." - -"Yes," Pierre replied, and went on with what was in his mind. -"Nicholas says we ought not to think. But I can't help it. Besides, -when I was in Petersburg I felt (I can this to you) that the whole -affair would go to pieces without me- everyone was pulling his own -way. But I succeeded in uniting them all; and then my idea is so clear -and simple. You see, I don't say that we ought to oppose this and -that. We may be mistaken. What I say is: 'Join hands, you who love the -right, and let there be but one banner- that of active virtue.' Prince -Sergey is a fine fellow and clever." - -Natasha would have had no doubt as to the greatness of Pierre's -idea, but one thing disconcerted her. "Can a man so important and -necessary to society be also my husband? How did this happen?" She -wished to express this doubt to him. "Now who could decide whether -he is really cleverer than all the others?" she asked herself, and -passed in review all those whom Pierre most respected. Judging by what -he had said there was no one he had respected so highly as Platon -Karataev. - -"Do you know what I am thinking about?" she asked. "About Platon -Karataev. Would he have approved of you now, do you think?" - -Pierre was not at all surprised at this question. He understood -his wife's line of thought. - -"Platon Karataev?" he repeated, and pondered, evidently sincerely -trying to imagine Karataev's opinion on the subject. "He would not -have understood... yet perhaps he would." - -"I love you awfully!" Natasha suddenly said. "Awfully, awfully!" - -"No, he would not have approved," said Pierre, after reflection. -"What he would have approved of is our family life. He was always so -anxious to find seemliness, happiness, and peace in everything, and -I should have been proud to let him see us. There now- you talk of -my absence, but you wouldn't believe what a special feeling I have for -you after a separation...." - -"Yes, I should think..." Natasha began. - -"No, it's not that. I never leave off loving you. And one couldn't -love more, but this is something special.... Yes, of course-" he did -not finish because their eyes meeting said the rest. - -"What nonsense it is," Natasha suddenly exclaimed, "about -honeymoons, and that the greatest happiness is at first! On the -contrary, now is the best of all. If only you did not go away! Do -you remember how we quarreled? And it was always my fault. Always -mine. And what we quarreled about- I don't even remember!" - -"Always about the same thing," said Pierre with a smile. "Jealo..." - -"Don't say it! I can't bear it!" Natasha cried, and her eyes -glittered coldly and vindictively. "Did you see her?" she added, after -a pause. - -"No, and if I had I shouldn't have recognized her." - -They were silent for a while. - -"Oh, do you know? While you were talking in the study I was -looking at you," Natasha began, evidently anxious to disperse the -cloud that had come over them. "You are as like him as two peas- -like the boy." (She meant her little son.) "Oh, it's time to go to -him.... The milk's come.... But I'm sorry to leave you." - -They were silent for a few seconds. Then suddenly turning to one -another at the same time they both began to speak. Pierre began with -self-satisfaction and enthusiasm, Natasha with a quiet, happy smile. -Having interrupted one another they both stopped to let the other -continue. - -"No. What did you say? Go on, go on." - -"No, you go on, I was talking nonsense," said Natasha. - -Pierre finished what he had begun. It was the sequel to his -complacent reflections on his success in Petersburg. At that moment it -seemed to him that he was chosen to give a new direction to the -whole of Russian society and to the whole world. - -"I only wished to say that ideas that have great results are -always simple ones. My whole idea is that if vicious people are united -and constitute a power, then honest folk must do the same. Now -that's simple enough." - -"Yes." - -"And what were you going to say?" - -"I? Only nonsense." - -"But all the same?" - -"Oh nothing, only a trifle," said Natasha, smilingly still more -brightly. "I only wanted to tell you about Petya: today nurse was -coming to take him from me, and he laughed, shut his eyes, and clung -to me. I'm sure he thought he was hiding. Awfully sweet! There, now -he's crying. Well, good-by!" and she left the room. - -Meanwhile downstairs in young Nicholas Bolkonski's bedroom a -little lamp was burning as usual. (The boy was afraid of the dark -and they could not cure him of it.) Dessalles slept propped up on four -pillows and his Roman nose emitted sounds of rhythmic snoring. -Little Nicholas, who had just waked up in a cold perspiration, sat -up in bed and gazed before him with wide-open eyes. He had awaked from -a terrible dream. He had dreamed that he and Uncle Pierre, wearing -helmets such as were depicted in his Plutarch, were leading a huge -army. The army was made up of white slanting lines that filled the air -like the cobwebs that float about in autumn and which Dessalles called -les fils de la Vierge. In front was Glory, which was similar to -those threads but rather thicker. He and Pierre were borne along -lightly and joyously, nearer and nearer to their goal. Suddenly the -threads that moved them began to slacken and become entangled and it -grew difficult to move. And Uncle Nicholas stood before them in a -stern and threatening attitude. - -"Have you done this?" he said, pointing to some broken sealing wax -and pens. "I loved you, but I have orders from Arakcheev and will kill -the first of you who moves forward." Little Nicholas turned to look at -Pierre but Pierre was no longer there. In his place was his father- -Prince Andrew- and his father had neither shape nor form, but he -existed, and when little Nicholas perceived him he grew faint with -love: he felt himself powerless, limp, and formless. His father -caressed and pitied him. But Uncle Nicholas came nearer and nearer -to them. Terror seized young Nicholas and he awoke. - -"My father!" he thought. (Though there were two good portraits of -Prince Andrew in the house, Nicholas never imagined him in human -form.) "My father has been with me and caressed me. He approved of -me and of Uncle Pierre. Whatever he may tell me, I will do it. -Mucius Scaevola burned his hand. Why should not the same sort of thing -happen to me? I know they want me to learn. And I will learn. But -someday I shall have finished learning, and then I will do -something. I only pray God that something may happen to me such as -happened to Plutarch's men, and I will act as they did. I will do -better. Everyone shall know me, love me, and be delighted with me!" -And suddenly his bosom heaved with sobs and he began to cry. - -"Are you ill?" he heard Dessalles' voice asking. - -"No," answered Nicholas, and lay back on his pillow. - -"He is good and kind and I am fond of him!" he thought of Dessalles. -"But Uncle Pierre! Oh, what a wonderful man he is! And my father? -Oh, Father, Father! Yes, I will do something with which even he -would be satisfied...." - -SECOND EPILOGUE - -CHAPTER I - -History is the life of nations and of humanity. To seize and put -into words, to describe directly the life of humanity or even of a -single nation, appears impossible. - -The ancient historians all employed one and the same method to -describe and seize the apparently elusive- the life of a people. -They described the activity of individuals who ruled the people, and -regarded the activity of those men as representing the activity of the -whole nation. - -The question: how did individuals make nations act as they wished -and by what was the will of these individuals themselves guided? the -ancients met by recognizing a divinity which subjected the nations -to the will of a chosen man, and guided the will of that chosen man so -as to accomplish ends that were predestined. - -For the ancients these questions were solved by a belief in the -direct participation of the Deity in human affairs. - -Modern history, in theory, rejects both these principles. - -It would seem that having rejected the belief of the ancients in -man's subjection to the Deity and in a predetermined aim toward -which nations are led, modern history should study not the -manifestations of power but the causes that produce it. But modern -history has not done this. Having in theory rejected the view held -by the ancients, it still follows them in practice. - -Instead of men endowed with divine authority and directly guided -by the will of God, modern history has given us either heroes -endowed with extraordinary, superhuman capacities, or simply men of -very various kinds, from monarchs to journalists, who lead the masses. -Instead of the former divinely appointed aims of the Jewish, Greek, or -Roman nations, which ancient historians regarded as representing the -progress of humanity, modern history has postulated its own aims- -the welfare of the French, German, or English people, or, in its -highest abstraction, the welfare and civilization of humanity in -general, by which is usually meant that of the peoples occupying a -small northwesterly portion of a large continent. - -Modern history has rejected the beliefs of the ancients without -replacing them by a new conception, and the logic of the situation has -obliged the historians, after they had apparently rejected the -divine authority of the kings and the "fate" of the ancients, to reach -the same conclusion by another road, that is, to recognize (1) nations -guided by individual men, and (2) the existence of a known aim to -which these nations and humanity at large are tending. - -At the basis of the works of all the modern historians from Gibbon -to Buckle, despite their seeming disagreements and the apparent -novelty of their outlooks, lie those two old, unavoidable assumptions. - -In the first place the historian describes the activity of -individuals who in his opinion have directed humanity (one historian -considers only monarchs, generals, and ministers as being such men, -while another includes also orators, learned men, reformers, -philosophers, and poets). Secondly, it is assumed that the goal toward -which humanity is being led is known to the historians: to one of them -this goal is the greatness of the Roman, Spanish, or French realm; -to another it is liberty, equality, and a certain kind of civilization -of a small corner of the world called Europe. - -In 1789 a ferment arises in Paris; it grows, spreads, and is -expressed by a movement of peoples from west to east. Several times it -moves eastward and collides with a countermovement from the east -westward. In 1812 it reaches its extreme limit, Moscow, and then, with -remarkable symmetry, a countermovement occurs from east to west, -attracting to it, as the first movement had done, the nations of -middle Europe. The counter movement reaches the starting point of -the first movement in the west- Paris- and subsides. - -During that twenty-year period an immense number of fields were left -untilled, houses were burned, trade changed its direction, millions of -men migrated, were impoverished, or were enriched, and millions of -Christian men professing the law of love of their fellows slew one -another. - -What does all this mean? Why did it happen? What made those people -burn houses and slay their fellow men? What were the causes of these -events? What force made men act so? These are the instinctive, -plain, and most legitimate questions humanity asks itself when it -encounters the monuments and tradition of that period. - -For a reply to these questions the common sense of mankind turns -to the science of history, whose aim is to enable nations and humanity -to know themselves. - -If history had retained the conception of the ancients it would have -said that God, to reward or punish his people, gave Napoleon power and -directed his will to the fulfillment of the divine ends, and that -reply, would have been clear and complete. One might believe or -disbelieve in the divine significance of Napoleon, but for anyone -believing in it there would have been nothing unintelligible in the -history of that period, nor would there have been any contradictions. - -But modern history cannot give that reply. Science does not admit -the conception of the ancients as to the direct participation of the -Deity in human affairs, and therefore history ought to give other -answers. - -Modern history replying to these questions says: you want to know -what this movement means, what caused it, and what force produced -these events? Then listen: - -"Louis XIV was a very proud and self-confident man; he had such -and such mistresses and such and such ministers and he ruled France -badly. His descendants were weak men and they too ruled France -badly. And they had such and such favorites and such and such -mistresses. Moreover, certain men wrote some books at that time. At -the end of the eighteenth century there were a couple of dozen men -in Paris who began to talk about all men being free and equal. This -caused people all over France to begin to slash at and drown one -another. They killed the king and many other people. At that time -there was in France a man of genius- Napoleon. He conquered -everybody everywhere- that is, he killed many people because he was -a great genius. And for some reason he went to kill Africans, and -killed them so well and was so cunning and wise that when he -returned to France he ordered everybody to obey him, and they all -obeyed him. Having become an Emperor he again went out to kill -people in Italy, Austria, and Prussia. And there too he killed a great -many. In Russia there was an Emperor, Alexander, who decided to -restore order in Europe and therefore fought against Napoleon. In 1807 -he suddenly made friends with him, but in 1811 they again quarreled -and again began killing many people. Napoleon led six hundred thousand -men into Russia and captured Moscow; then he suddenly ran away from -Moscow, and the Emperor Alexander, helped by the advice of Stein and -others, united Europe to arm against the disturber of its peace. All -Napoleon's allies suddenly became his enemies and their forces -advanced against the fresh forces he raised. The Allies defeated -Napoleon, entered Paris, forced Napoleon to abdicate, and sent him -to the island of Elba, not depriving him of the title of Emperor and -showing him every respect, though five years before and one year later -they all regarded him as an outlaw and a brigand. Then Louis XVIII, -who till then had been the laughingstock both of the French and the -Allies, began to reign. And Napoleon, shedding tears before his Old -Guards, renounced the throne and went into exile. Then the skillful -statesmen and diplomatists (especially Talleyrand, who managed to -sit down in a particular chair before anyone else and thereby extended -the frontiers of France) talked in Vienna and by these conversations -made the nations happy or unhappy. Suddenly the diplomatists and -monarchs nearly quarreled and were on the point of again ordering -their armies to kill one another, but just then Napoleon arrived in -France with a battalion, and the French, who had been hating him, -immediately all submitted to him. But the Allied monarchs were angry -at this and went to fight the French once more. And they defeated -the genius Napoleon and, suddenly recognizing him as a brigand, sent -him to the island of St. Helena. And the exile, separated from the -beloved France so dear to his heart, died a lingering death on that -rock and bequeathed his great deeds to posterity. But in Europe a -reaction occurred and the sovereigns once again all began to oppress -their subjects." - -It would be a mistake to think that this is ironic- a caricature -of the historical accounts. On the contrary it is a very mild -expression of the contradictory replies, not meeting the questions, -which all the historians give, from the compilers of memoirs and the -histories of separate states to the writers of general histories and -the new histories of the culture of that period. - -The strangeness and absurdity of these replies arise from the fact -that modern history, like a deaf man, answers questions no one has -asked. - -If the purpose of history be to give a description of the movement -of humanity and of the peoples, the first question- in the absence -of a reply to which all the rest will be incomprehensible- is: what is -the power that moves peoples? To this, modern history laboriously -replies either that Napoleon was a great genius, or that Louis XIV was -very proud, or that certain writers wrote certain books. - -All that may be so and mankind is ready to agree with it, but it -is not what was asked. All that would be interesting if we -recognized a divine power based on itself and always consistently -directing its nations through Napoleons, Louis-es, and writers; but we -do not acknowledge such a power, and therefore before speaking about -Napoleons, Louis-es, and authors, we ought to be shown the -connection existing between these men and the movement of the nations. - -If instead of a divine power some other force has appeared, it -should be explained in what this new force consists, for the whole -interest of history lies precisely in that force. - -History seems to assume that this force is self-evident and known to -everyone. But in spite of every desire to regard it as known, anyone -reading many historical works cannot help doubting whether this new -force, so variously understood by the historians themselves, is really -quite well known to everybody. - -CHAPTER II - -What force moves the nations? - -Biographical historians and historians of separate nations -understand this force as a power inherent in heroes and rulers. In -their narration events occur solely by the will of a Napoleon, and -Alexander, or in general of the persons they describe. The answers -given by this kind of historian to the question of what force causes -events to happen are satisfactory only as long as there is but one -historian to each event. As soon as historians of different -nationalities and tendencies begin to describe the same event, the -replies they give immediately lose all meaning, for this force is -understood by them all not only differently but often in quite -contradictory ways. One historian says that an event was produced by -Napoleon's power, another that it was produced by Alexander's, a third -that it was due to the power of some other person. Besides this, -historians of that kind contradict each other even in their -statement as to the force on which the authority of some particular -person was based. Thiers, a Bonapartist, says that Napoleon's power -was based on his virtue and genius. Lanfrey, a Republican, says it was -based on his trickery and deception of the people. So the historians -of this class, by mutually destroying one another's positions, destroy -the understanding of the force which produces events, and furnish no -reply to history's essential question. - -Writers of universal history who deal with all the nations seem to -recognize how erroneous is the specialist historians' view of the -force which produces events. They do not recognize it as a power -inherent in heroes and rulers, but as the resultant of a -multiplicity of variously directed forces. In describing a war or -the subjugation of a people, a general historian looks for the cause -of the event not in the power of one man, but in the interaction of -many persons connected with the event. - -According to this view the power of historical personages, -represented as the product of many forces, can no longer, it would -seem, be regarded as a force that itself produces events. Yet in -most cases universal historians still employ the conception of power -as a force that itself produces events, and treat it as their cause. -In their exposition, an historic character is first the product of his -time, and his power only the resultant of various forces, and then his -power is itself a force producing events. Gervinus, Schlosser, and -others, for instance, at one time prove Napoleon to be a product of -the Revolution, of the ideas of 1789 and so forth, and at another -plainly say that the campaign of 1812 and other things they do not -like were simply the product of Napoleon's misdirected will, and -that the very ideas of 1789 were arrested in their development by -Napoleon's caprice. The ideas of the Revolution and the general temper -of the age produced Napoleon's power. But Napoleon's power -suppressed the ideas of the Revolution and the general temper of the -age. - -This curious contradiction is not accidental. Not only does it occur -at every step, but the universal historians' accounts are all made -up of a chain of such contradictions. This contradiction occurs -because after entering the field of analysis the universal -historians stop halfway. - -To find component forces equal to the composite or resultant -force, the sum of the components must equal the resultant. This -condition is never observed by the universal historians, and so to -explain the resultant forces they are obliged to admit, in addition to -the insufficient components, another unexplained force affecting the -resultant action. - -Specialist historians describing the campaign of 1813 or the -restoration of the Bourbons plainly assert that these events were -produced by the will of Alexander. But the universal historian -Gervinus, refuting this opinion of the specialist historian, tries -to prove that the campaign of 1813 and the restoration of the Bourbons -were due to other things beside Alexander's will- such as the activity -of Stein, Metternich, Madame de Stael, Talleyrand, Fichte -Chateaubriand, and others. The historian evidently decomposes -Alexander's power into the components: Talleyrand, Chateaubriand, -and the rest- but the sum of the components, that is, the interactions -of Chateaubriand, Talleyrand, Madame de Stael, and the others, -evidently does not equal the resultant, namely the phenomenon of -millions of Frenchmen submitting to the Bourbons. That -Chateaubriand, Madame de Stael, and others spoke certain words to -one another only affected their mutual relations but does not -account for the submission of millions. And therefore to explain how -from these relations of theirs the submission of millions of people -resulted- that is, how component forces equal to one A gave a -resultant equal to a thousand times A- the historian is again -obliged to fall back on power- the force he had denied- and to -recognize it as the resultant of the forces, that is, he has to -admit an unexplained force acting on the resultant. And that is just -what the universal historians do, and consequently they not only -contradict the specialist historians but contradict themselves. - -Peasants having no clear idea of the cause of rain, say, according -to whether they want rain or fine weather: "The wind has blown the -clouds away," or, "The wind has brought up the clouds." And in the -same way the universal historians sometimes, when it pleases them -and fits in with their theory, say that power is the result of events, -and sometimes, when they want to prove something else, say that -power produces events. - -A third class of historians- the so-called historians of culture- -following the path laid down by the universal historians who sometimes -accept writers and ladies as forces producing events- again take -that force to be something quite different. They see it in what is -called culture- in mental activity. - -The historians of culture are quite consistent in regard to their -progenitors, the writers of universal histories, for if historical -events may be explained by the fact that certain persons treated one -another in such and such ways, why not explain them by the fact that -such and such people wrote such and such books? Of the immense -number of indications accompanying every vital phenomenon, these -historians select the indication of intellectual activity and say that -this indication is the cause. But despite their endeavors to prove -that the cause of events lies in intellectual activity, only by a -great stretch can one admit that there is any connection between -intellectual activity and the movement of peoples, and in no case -can one admit that intellectual activity controls people's actions, -for that view is not confirmed by such facts as the very cruel murders -of the French Revolution resulting from the doctrine of the equality -of man, or the very cruel wars and executions resulting from the -preaching of love. - -But even admitting as correct all the cunningly devised arguments -with which these histories are filled- admitting that nations are -governed by some undefined force called an idea- history's essential -question still remains unanswered, and to the former power of monarchs -and to the influence of advisers and other people introduced by the -universal historians, another, newer force- the idea- is added, the -connection of which with the masses needs explanation. It is -possible to understand that Napoleon had power and so events occurred; -with some effort one may even conceive that Napoleon together with -other influences was the cause of an event; but how a book, Le Contrat -social, had the effect of making Frenchmen begin to drown one -another cannot be understood without an explanation of the causal -nexus of this new force with the event. - -Undoubtedly some relation exists between all who live -contemporaneously, and so it is possible to find some connection -between the intellectual activity of men and their historical -movements, just as such a connection may be found between the -movements of humanity and commerce, handicraft, gardening, or anything -else you please. But why intellectual activity is considered by the -historians of culture to be the cause or expression of the whole -historical movement is hard to understand. Only the following -considerations can have led the historians to such a conclusion: (1) -that history is written by learned men, and so it is natural and -agreeable for them to think that the activity of their class -supplies the basis of the movement of all humanity, just as a -similar belief is natural and agreeable to traders, agriculturists, -and soldiers (if they do not express it, that is merely because -traders and soldiers do not write history), and (2) that spiritual -activity, enlightenment, civilization, culture, ideas, are all -indistinct, indefinite conceptions under whose banner it is very -easy to use words having a still less definite meaning, and which -can therefore be readily introduced into any theory. - -But not to speak of the intrinsic quality of histories of this -kind (which may possibly even be of use to someone for something) -the histories of culture, to which all general histories tend more and -more to approximate, are significant from the fact that after -seriously and minutely examining various religious, philosophic, and -political doctrines as causes of events, as soon as they have to -describe an actual historic event such as the campaign of 1812 for -instance, they involuntarily describe it as resulting from an exercise -of power- and say plainly that that was the result of Napoleon's will. -Speaking so, the historians of culture involuntarily contradict -themselves, and show that the new force they have devised does not -account for what happens in history, and that history can only be -explained by introducing a power which they apparently do not -recognize. - -CHAPTER III - -A locomotive is moving. Someone asks: "What moves it?" A peasant -says the devil moves it. Another man says the locomotive moves because -its wheels go round. A third asserts that the cause of its movement -lies in the smoke which the wind carries away. - -The peasant is irrefutable. He has devised a complete explanation. -To refute him someone would have to prove to him that there is no -devil, or another peasant would have to explain to him that it is -not the devil but a German, who moves the locomotive. Only then, as -a result of the contradiction, will they see that they are both wrong. -But the man who says that the movement of the wheels is the cause -refutes himself, for having once begun to analyze he ought to go on -and explain further why the wheels go round; and till he has reached -the ultimate cause of the movement of the locomotive in the pressure -of steam in the boiler, he has no right to stop in his search for -the cause. The man who explains the movement of the locomotive by -the smoke that is carried back has noticed that the wheels do not -supply an explanation and has taken the first sign that occurs to -him and in his turn has offered that as an explanation. - -The only conception that can explain the movement of the -locomotive is that of a force commensurate with the movement observed. - -The only conception that can explain the movement of the peoples -is that of some force commensurate with the whole movement of the -peoples. - -Yet to supply this conception various historians take forces of -different kinds, all of which are incommensurate with the movement -observed. Some see it as a force directly inherent in heroes, as the -peasant sees the devil in the locomotive; others as a force -resulting from several other forces, like the movement of the -wheels; others again as an intellectual influence, like the smoke that -is blown away. - -So long as histories are written of separate individuals, whether -Caesars, Alexanders, Luthers, or Voltaires, and not the histories of -all, absolutely all those who take part in an event, it is quite -impossible to describe the movement of humanity without the conception -of a force compelling men to direct their activity toward a certain -end. And the only such conception known to historians is that of -power. - -This conception is the one handle by means of which the material -of history, as at present expounded, can be dealt with, and anyone who -breaks that handle off, as Buckle did, without finding some other -method of treating historical material, merely deprives himself of the -one possible way of dealing with it. The necessity of the conception -of power as an explanation of historical events is best demonstrated -by the universal historians and historians of culture themselves, -for they professedly reject that conception but inevitably have -recourse to it at every step. - -In dealing with humanity's inquiry, the science of history up to now -is like money in circulation- paper money and coin. The biographies -and special national histories are like paper money. They can be -used and can circulate and fulfill their purpose without harm to -anyone and even advantageously, as long as no one asks what is the -security behind them. You need only forget to ask how the will of -heroes produces events, and such histories as Thiers' will be -interesting and instructive and may perhaps even possess a tinge of -poetry. But just as doubts of the real value of paper money arise -either because, being easy to make, too much of it gets made or -because people try to exchange it for gold, so also doubts -concerning the real value of such histories arise either because too -many of them are written or because in his simplicity of heart someone -inquires: by what force did Napoleon do this?- that is, wants to -exchange the current paper money for the real gold of actual -comprehension. - -The writers of universal histories and of the history of culture are -like people who, recognizing the defects of paper money, decide to -substitute for it money made of metal that has not the specific -gravity of gold. It may indeed make jingling coin, but will do no more -than that. Paper money may deceive the ignorant, but nobody is -deceived by tokens of base metal that have no value but merely jingle. -As gold is gold only if it is serviceable not merely for exchange -but also for use, so universal historians will be valuable only when -they can reply to history's essential question: what is power? The -universal historians give contradictory replies to that question, -while the historians of culture evade it and answer something quite -different. And as counters of imitation gold can be used only among -a group of people who agree to accept them as gold, or among those who -do not know the nature of gold, so universal historians and historians -of culture, not answering humanity's essential question, serve as -currency for some purposes of their own, only in universities and -among the mass of readers who have a taste for what they call "serious -reading." - -CHAPTER IV - -Having abandoned the conception of the ancients as to the divine -subjection of the will of a nation to some chosen man and the -subjection of that man's will to the Deity, history cannot without -contradictions take a single step till it has chosen one of two -things: either a return to the former belief in the direct -intervention of the Deity in human affairs or a definite explanation -of the meaning of the force producing historical events and termed -"power." - -A return to the first is impossible, the belief has been -destroyed; and so it is essential to explain what is meant by power. - -Napoleon ordered an army to be raised and go to war. We are so -accustomed to that idea and have become so used to it that the -question: why did six hundred thousand men go to fight when Napoleon -uttered certain words, seems to us senseless. He had the power and -so what he ordered was done. - -This reply is quite satisfactory if we believe that the power was -given him by God. But as soon as we do not admit that, it becomes -essential to determine what is this power of one man over others. - -It cannot be the direct physical power of a strong man over a weak -one- a domination based on the application or threat of physical -force, like the power of Hercules; nor can it be based on the effect -of moral force, as in their simplicity some historians think who say -that the leading figures in history are heroes, that is, men gifted -with a special strength of soul and mind called genius. This power -cannot be based on the predominance of moral strength, for, not to -mention heroes such as Napoleon about whose moral qualities opinions -differ widely, history shows us that neither a Louis XI nor a -Metternich, who ruled over millions of people, had any particular -moral qualities, but on the contrary were generally morally weaker -than any of the millions they ruled over. - -If the source of power lies neither in the physical nor in the moral -qualities of him who possesses it, it must evidently be looked for -elsewhere- in the relation to the people of the man who wields the -power. - -And that is how power is understood by the science of jurisprudence, -that exchange bank of history which offers to exchange history's -understanding of power for true gold. - -Power is the collective will of the people transferred, by expressed -or tacit consent, to their chosen rulers. - -In the domain of jurisprudence, which consists of discussions of how -a state and power might be arranged were it possible for all that to -be arranged, it is all very clear; but when applied to history that -definition of power needs explanation. - -The science of jurisprudence regards the state and power as the -ancients regarded fire- namely, as something existing absolutely. -But for history, the state and power are merely phenomena, just as for -modern physics fire is not an element but a phenomenon. - -From this fundamental difference between the view held by history -and that held by jurisprudence, it follows that jurisprudence can tell -minutely how in its opinion power should be constituted and what -power- existing immutably outside time- is, but to history's questions -about the meaning of the mutations of power in time it can answer -nothing. - -If power be the collective will of the people transferred to their -ruler, was Pugachev a representative of the will of the people? If -not, then why was Napoleon I? Why was Napoleon III a criminal when -he was taken prisoner at Boulogne, and why, later on, were those -criminals whom he arrested? - -Do palace revolutions- in which sometimes only two or three people -take part- transfer the will of the people to a new ruler? In -international relations, is the will of the people also transferred to -their conqueror? Was the will of the Confederation of the Rhine -transferred to Napoleon in 1806? Was the will of the Russian people -transferred to Napoleon in 1809, when our army in alliance with the -French went to fight the Austrians? - -To these questions three answers are possible: - -Either to assume (1) that the will of the people is always -unconditionally transferred to the ruler or rulers they have chosen, -and that therefore every emergence of a new power, every struggle -against the power once appointed, should be absolutely regarded as -an infringement of the real power; or (2) that the will of the -people is transferred to the rulers conditionally, under definite -and known conditions, and to show that all limitations, conflicts, and -even destructions of power result from a nonobservance by the rulers -of the conditions under which their power was entrusted to them; or -(3) that the will of the people is delegated to the rulers -conditionally, but that the conditions are unknown and indefinite, and -that the appearance of several authorities, their struggles and -their falls, result solely from the greater or lesser fulfillment by -the rulers of these unknown conditions on which the will of the people -is transferred from some people to others. - -And these are the three ways in which the historians do explain -the relation of the people to their rulers. - -Some historians- those biographical and specialist historians -already referred to- in their simplicity failing to understand the -question of the meaning of power, seem to consider that the collective -will of the people is unconditionally transferred to historical -persons, and therefore when describing some single state they assume -that particular power to be the one absolute and real power, and -that any other force opposing this is not a power but a violation of -power- mere violence. - -Their theory, suitable for primitive and peaceful periods of -history, has the inconvenience- in application to complex and stormy -periods in the life of nations during which various powers arise -simultaneously and struggle with one another- that a Legitimist -historian will prove that the National Convention, the Directory, -and Bonaparte were mere infringers of the true power, while a -Republican and a Bonapartist will prove: the one that the Convention -and the other that the Empire was the real power, and that all the -others were violations of power. Evidently the explanations -furnished by these historians being mutually contradictory can only -satisfy young children. - -Recognizing the falsity of this view of history, another set of -historians say that power rests on a conditional delegation of the -will of the people to their rulers, and that historical leaders have -power only conditionally on carrying out the program that the will -of the people has by tacit agreement prescribed to them. But what this -program consists in these historians do not say, or if they do they -continually contradict one another. - -Each historian, according to his view of what constitutes a nation's -progress, looks for these conditions in the greatness, wealth, -freedom, or enlightenment of citizens of France or some other country. -But not to mention the historians' contradictions as to the nature -of this program- or even admitting that some one general program of -these conditions exists- the facts of history almost always contradict -that theory. If the conditions under which power is entrusted -consist in the wealth, freedom, and enlightenment of the people, how -is it that Louis XIV and Ivan the Terrible end their reigns -tranquilly, while Louis XVI and Charles I are executed by their -people? To this question historians reply that Louis XIV's activity, -contrary to the program, reacted on Louis XVI. But why did it not -react on Louis XIV or on Louis XV- why should it react just on Louis -XVI? And what is the time limit for such reactions? To these questions -there are and can be no answers. Equally little does this view explain -why for several centuries the collective will is not withdrawn from -certain rulers and their heirs, and then suddenly during a period of -fifty years is transferred to the Convention, to the Directory, to -Napoleon, to Alexander, to Louis XVIII, to Napoleon again, to -Charles X, to Louis Philippe, to a Republican government, and to -Napoleon III. When explaining these rapid transfers of the people's -will from from one individual to another, especially in view of -international relations, conquests, and alliances, the historians -are obliged to admit that some of these transfers are not normal -delegations of the people's will but are accidents dependent on -cunning, on mistakes, on craft, or on the weakness of a diplomatist, a -ruler, or a party leader. So that the greater part of the events of -history- civil wars, revolutions, and conquests- are presented by -these historians not as the results of free transferences of the -people's will, but as results of the ill-directed will of one or -more individuals, that is, once again, as usurpations of power. And so -these historians also see and admit historical events which are -exceptions to the theory. - -These historians resemble a botanist who, having noticed that some -plants grow from seeds producing two cotyledons, should insist that -all that grows does so by sprouting into two leaves, and that the -palm, the mushroom, and even the oak, which blossom into full growth -and no longer resemble two leaves, are deviations from the theory. - -Historians of the third class assume that the will of the people -is transferred to historic personages conditionally, but that the -conditions are unknown to us. They say that historical personages have -power only because they fulfill the will of the people which has -been delegated to them. - -But in that case, if the force that moves nations lies not in the -historic leaders but in the nations themselves, what significance have -those leaders? - -The leaders, these historians tell us, express the will of the -people: the activity of the leaders represents the activity of the -people. - -But in that case the question arises whether all the activity of the -leaders serves as an expression of the people's will or only some part -of it. If the whole activity of the leaders serves as the expression -of the people's will, as some historians suppose, then all the details -of the court scandals contained in the biographies of a Napoleon or -a Catherine serve to express the life of the nation, which is -evident nonsense; but if it is only some particular side of the -activity of an historical leader which serves to express the -people's life, as other so-called "philosophical" historians -believe, then to determine which side of the activity of a leader -expresses the nation's life, we have first of all to know in what -the nation's life consists. - -Met by this difficulty historians of that class devise some most -obscure, impalpable, and general abstraction which can cover all -conceivable occurrences, and declare this abstraction to be the aim of -humanity's movement. The most usual generalizations adopted by -almost all the historians are: freedom, equality, enlightenment, -progress, civilization, and culture. Postulating some generalization -as the goal of the movement of humanity, the historians study the -men of whom the greatest number of monuments have remained: kings, -ministers, generals, authors, reformers, popes, and journalists, to -the extent to which in their opinion these persons have promoted or -hindered that abstraction. But as it is in no way proved that the -aim of humanity does consist in freedom, equality, enlightenment, or -civilization, and as the connection of the people with the rulers -and enlighteners of humanity is only based on the arbitrary assumption -that the collective will of the people is always transferred to the -men whom we have noticed, it happens that the activity of the millions -who migrate, burn houses, abandon agriculture, and destroy one another -never is expressed in the account of the activity of some dozen people -who did not burn houses, practice agriculture, or slay their fellow -creatures. - -History proves this at every turn. Is the ferment of the peoples -of the west at the end of the eighteenth century and their drive -eastward explained by the activity of Louis XIV, XV, and XVI, their -mistresses and ministers, and by the lives of Napoleon, Rousseau, -Diderot, Beaumarchais, and others? - -Is the movement of the Russian people eastward to Kazan and -Siberia expressed by details of the morbid character of Ivan the -Terrible and by his correspondence with Kurbski? - -Is the movement of the peoples at the time of the Crusades explained -by the life and activity of the Godfreys and the Louis-es and their -ladies? For us that movement of the peoples from west to east, without -leaders, with a crowd of vagrants, and with Peter the Hermit, -remains incomprehensible. And yet more incomprehensible is the -cessation of that movement when a rational and sacred aim for the -Crusade- the deliverance of Jerusalem- had been clearly defined by -historic leaders. Popes, kings, and knights incited the peoples to -free the Holy Land; but the people did not go, for the unknown cause -which had previously impelled them to go no longer existed. The -history of the Godfreys and the Minnesingers can evidently not cover -the life of the peoples. And the history of the Godfreys and the -Minnesingers has remained the history of Godfreys and Minnesingers, -but the history of the life of the peoples and their impulses has -remained unknown. - -Still less does the history of authors and reformers explain to us -the life of the peoples. - -The history of culture explains to us the impulses and conditions of -life and thought of a writer or a reformer. We learn that Luther had a -hot temper and said such and such things; we learn that Rousseau was -suspicious and wrote such and such books; but we do not learn why -after the Reformation the peoples massacred one another, nor why -during the French Revolution they guillotined one another. - -If we unite both these kinds of history, as is done by the newest -historians, we shall have the history of monarchs and writers, but not -the history of the life of the peoples. - -CHAPTER V - -The life of the nations is not contained in the lives of a few -men, for the connection between those men and the nations has not been -found. The theory that this connection is based on the transference of -the collective will of a people to certain historical personages is an -hypothesis unconfirmed by the experience of history. - -The theory of the transference of the collective will of the -people to historic persons may perhaps explain much in the domain of -jurisprudence and be essential for its purposes, but in its -application to history, as soon as revolutions, conquests, or civil -wars occur- that is, as soon as history begins- that theory explains -nothing. - -The theory seems irrefutable just because the act of transference of -the people's will cannot be verified, for it never occurred. - -Whatever happens and whoever may stand at the head of affairs, the -theory can always say that such and such a person took the lead -because the collective will was transferred to him. - -The replies this theory gives to historical questions are like the -replies of a man who, watching the movements of a herd of cattle and -paying no attention to the varying quality of the pasturage in -different parts of the field, or to the driving of the herdsman, -should attribute the direction the herd takes to what animal happens -to be at its head. - -"The herd goes in that direction because the animal in front leads -it and the collective will of all the other animals is vested in -that leader." This is what historians of the first class say- those -who assume the unconditional transference of the people's will. - -"If the animals leading the herd change, this happens because the -collective will of all the animals is transferred from one leader to -another, according to whether the animal is or is not leading them -in the direction selected by the whole herd." Such is the reply -historians who assume that the collective will of the people is -delegated to rulers under conditions which they regard as known. (With -this method of observation it often happens that the observer, -influenced by the direction he himself prefers, regards those as -leaders who, owing to the people's change of direction, are no -longer in front, but on one side, or even in the rear.) - -"If the animals in front are continually changing and the -direction of the whole herd is constantly altered, this is because -in order to follow a given direction the animals transfer their will -to the animals that have attracted our attention, and to study the -movements of the herd we must watch the movements of all the prominent -animals moving on all sides of the herd." So say the third class of -historians who regard all historical persons, from monarchs to -journalists, as the expression of their age. - -The theory of the transference of the will of the people to historic -persons is merely a paraphrase- a restatement of the question in other -words. - -What causes historical events? Power. What is power? Power is the -collective will of the people transferred to one person. Under what -condition is the will of the people delegated to one person? On -condition that that person expresses the will of the whole people. -That is, power is power: in other words, power is a word the meaning -of which we do not understand. - -If the realm of human knowledge were confined to abstract reasoning, -then having subjected to criticism the explanation of "power" that -juridical science gives us, humanity would conclude that power is -merely a word and has no real existence. But to understand phenomena -man has, besides abstract reasoning, experience by which he verifies -his reflections. And experience tells us that power is not merely a -word but an actually existing phenomenon. - -Not to speak of the fact that no description of the collective -activity of men can do without the conception of power, the -existence of power is proved both by history and by observing -contemporary events. - -Whenever an event occurs a man appears or men appear, by whose -will the event seems to have taken place. Napoleon III issues a decree -and the French go to Mexico. The King of Prussia and Bismarck issue -decrees and an army enters Bohemia. Napoleon I issues a decree and -an army enters Russia. Alexander I gives a command and the French -submit to the Bourbons. Experience shows us that whatever event occurs -it is always related to the will of one or of several men who have -decreed it. - -The historians, in accord with the old habit of acknowledging divine -intervention in human affairs, want to see the cause of events in -the expression of the will of someone endowed with power, but that -supposition is not confirmed either by reason or by experience. - -On the one side reflection shows that the expression of a man's -will- his words- are only part of the general activity expressed in an -event, as for instance in a war or a revolution, and so without -assuming an incomprehensible, supernatural force- a miracle- one -cannot admit that words can be the immediate cause of the movements of -millions of men. On the other hand, even if we admitted that words -could be the cause of events, history shows that the expression of the -will of historical personages does not in most cases produce any -effect, that is to say, their commands are often not executed, and -sometimes the very opposite of what they order occurs. - -Without admitting divine intervention in the affairs of humanity -we cannot regard "power" as the cause of events. - -Power, from the standpoint of experience, is merely the relation -that exists between the expression of someone's will and the execution -of that will by others. - -To explain the conditions of that relationship we must first -establish a conception of the expression of will, referring it to -man and not to the Deity. - -If the Deity issues a command, expresses His will, as ancient -history tells us, the expression of that will is independent of time -and is not caused by anything, for the Divinity is not controlled by -an event. But speaking of commands that are the expression of the will -of men acting in time and in relation to one another, to explain the -connection of commands with events we must restore: (1) the -condition of all that takes place: the continuity of movement in -time both of the events and of the person who commands, and (2) the -inevitability of the connection between the person commanding and -those who execute his command. - -CHAPTER VI - -Only the expression of the will of the Deity, not dependent on time, -can relate to a whole series of events occurring over a period of -years or centuries, and only the Deity, independent of everything, can -by His sole will determine the direction of humanity's movement; but -man acts in time and himself takes part in what occurs. - -Reinstating the first condition omitted, that of time, we see that -no command can be executed without some preceding order having been -given rendering the execution of the last command possible. - -No command ever appears spontaneously, or itself covers a whole -series of occurrences; but each command follows from another, and -never refers to a whole series of events but always to one moment only -of an event. - -When, for instance, we say that Napoleon ordered armies to go to -war, we combine in one simultaneous expression a whole series of -consecutive commands dependent one on another. Napoleon could not have -commanded an invasion of Russia and never did so. Today he ordered -such and such papers to be written to Vienna, to Berlin, and to -Petersburg; tomorrow such and such decrees and orders to the army, the -fleet, the commissariat, and so on and so on- millions of commands, -which formed a whole series corresponding to a series of events -which brought the French armies into Russia. - -If throughout his reign Napoleon gave commands concerning an -invasion of England and expended on no other undertaking so much -time and effort, and yet during his whole reign never once attempted -to execute that design but undertook an expedition into Russia, with -which country he considered it desirable to be in alliance (a -conviction he repeatedly expressed)- this came about because his -commands did not correspond to the course of events in the first case, -but did so correspond in the latter. - -For an order to be certainly executed, it is necessary that a man -should order what can be executed. But to know what can and what -cannot be executed is impossible, not only in the case of Napoleon's -invasion of Russia in which millions participated, but even in the -simplest event, for in either case millions of obstacles may arise -to prevent its execution. Every order executed is always one of an -immense number unexecuted. All the impossible orders inconsistent with -the course of events remain unexecuted. Only the possible ones get -linked up with a consecutive series of commands corresponding to a -series of events, and are executed. - -Our false conception that an event is caused by a command which -precedes it is due to the fact that when the event has taken place and -out of thousands of others those few commands which were consistent -with that event have been executed, we forget about the others that -were not executed because they could not be. Apart from that, the -chief source of our error in this matter is due to the fact that in -the historical accounts a whole series of innumerable, diverse, and -petty events, such for instance as all those which led the French -armies to Russia, is generalized into one event in accord with the -result produced by that series of events, and corresponding with -this generalization the whole series of commands is also generalized -into a single expression of will. - -We say that Napoleon wished to invade Russia and invaded it. In -reality in all Napoleon's activity we never find anything resembling -an expression of that wish, but find a series of orders, or -expressions of his will, very variously and indefinitely directed. -Amid a long series of unexecuted orders of Napoleon's one series, -for the campaign of 1812, was carried out- not because those orders -differed in any way from the other, unexecuted orders but because they -coincided with the course of events that led the French army into -Russia; just as in stencil work this or that figure comes out not -because the color was laid on from this side or in that way, but -because it was laid on from all sides over the figure cut in the -stencil. - -So that examining the relation in time of the commands to the -events, we find that a command can never be the cause of the event, -but that a certain definite dependence exists between the two. - -To understand in what this dependence consists it is necessary to -reinstate another omitted condition of every command proceeding not -from the Deity but from a man, which is, that the man who gives the -command himself takes part in - -This relation of the commander to those he commands is just what -is called power. This relation consists in the following: - -For common action people always unite in certain combinations, in -which regardless of the difference of the aims set for the common -action, the relation between those taking part in it is always the -same. - -Men uniting in these combinations always assume such relations -toward one another that the larger number take a more direct share, -and the smaller number a less direct share, in the collective action -for which they have combined. - -Of all the combinations in which men unite for collective action one -of the most striking and definite examples is an army. - -Every army is composed of lower grades of the service- the rank -and file- of whom there are always the greatest number; of the next -higher military rank- corporals and noncommissioned officers of whom -there are fewer, and of still-higher officers of whom there are -still fewer, and so on to the highest military command which is -concentrated in one person. - -A military organization may be quite correctly compared to a cone, -of which the base with the largest diameter consists of the rank and -file; the next higher and smaller section of the cone consists of -the next higher grades of the army, and so on to the apex, the point -of which will represent the commander in chief. - -The soldiers, of whom there are the most, form the lower section -of the cone and its base. The soldier himself does the stabbing, -hacking, burning, and pillaging, and always receives orders for -these actions from men above him; he himself never gives an order. The -noncommissioned officers (of whom there are fewer) perform the -action itself less frequently than the soldiers, but they already give -commands. An officer still less often acts directly himself, but -commands still more frequently. A general does nothing but command the -troops, indicates the objective, and hardly ever uses a weapon -himself. The commander in chief never takes direct part in the -action itself, but only gives general orders concerning the movement -of the mass of the troops. A similar relation of people to one another -is seen in every combination of men for common activity- in -agriculture, trade, and every administration. - -And so without particularly analyzing all the contiguous sections of -a cone and of the ranks of an army, or the ranks and positions in -any administrative or public business whatever from the lowest to -the highest, we see a law by which men, to take associated action, -combine in such relations that the more directly they participate in -performing the action the less they can command and the more -numerous they are, while the less their direct participation in the -action itself, the more they command and the fewer of them there -are; rising in this way from the lowest ranks to the man at the top, -who takes the least direct share in the action and directs his -activity chiefly to commanding. - -This relation of the men who command to those they command is what -constitutes the essence of the conception called power. - -Having restored the condition of time under which all events -occur, find that a command is executed only when it is related to a -corresponding series of events. Restoring the essential condition of -relation between those who command and those who execute, we find that -by the very nature of the case those who command take the smallest -part in the action itself and that their activity is exclusively -directed to commanding. - -CHAPTER VII - -When an event is taking place people express their opinions and -wishes about it, and as the event results from the collective activity -of many people, some one of the opinions or wishes expressed is sure -to be fulfilled if but approximately. When one of the opinions -expressed is fulfilled, that opinion gets connected with the event -as a command preceding it. - -Men are hauling a log. Each of them expresses his opinion as to -how and where to haul it. They haul the log away, and it happens -that this is done as one of them said. He ordered it. There we have -command and power in their primary form. The man who worked most -with his hands could not think so much about what he was doing, or -reflect on or command what would result from the common activity; -while the man who commanded more would evidently work less with his -hands on account of his greater verbal activity. - -When some larger concourse of men direct their activity to a -common aim there is a yet sharper division of those who, because their -activity is given to directing and commanding, take less less part -in the direct work. - -When a man works alone he always has a certain set of reflections -which as it seems to him directed his past activity, justify his -present activity, and guide him in planning his future actions. Just -the same is done by a concourse of people, allowing those who do not -take a direct part in the activity to devise considerations, -justifications, and surmises concerning their collective activity. - -For reasons known or unknown to us the French began to drown and -kill one another. And corresponding to the event its justification -appears in people's belief that this was necessary for the welfare -of France, for liberty, and for equality. People ceased to kill one -another, and this event was accompanied by its justification in the -necessity for a centralization of power, resistance to Europe, and -so on. Men went from the west to the east killing their fellow men, -and the event was accompanied by phrases about the glory of France, -the baseness of England, and so on. History shows us that these -justifications of the events have no common sense and are all -contradictory, as in the case of killing a man as the result of -recognizing his rights, and the killing of millions in Russia for -the humiliation of England. But these justifications have a very -necessary significance in their own day. - -These justifications release those who produce the events from moral -responsibility. These temporary aims are like the broom fixed in front -of a locomotive to clear the snow from the rails in front: they -clear men's moral responsibilities from their path. - -Without such justification there would be no reply to the simplest -question that presents itself when examining each historical event. -How is it that millions of men commit collective crimes- make war, -commit murder, and so on? - -With the present complex forms of political and social life in -Europe can any event that is not prescribed, decreed, or ordered by -monarchs, ministers, parliaments, or newspapers be imagined? Is -there any collective action which cannot find its justification in -political unity, in patriotism, in the balance of power, or in -civilization? So that every event that occurs inevitably coincides -with some expressed wish and, receiving a justification, presents -itself as the result of the will of one man or of several men. - -In whatever direction a ship moves, the flow of the waves it cuts -will always be noticeable ahead of it. To those on board the ship -the movement of those waves will be the only perceptible motion. - -Only by watching closely moment by moment the movement of that -flow and comparing it with the movement of the ship do we convince -ourselves that every bit of it is occasioned by the forward movement -of the ship, and that we were led into error by the fact that we -ourselves were imperceptibly moving. - -We see the same if we watch moment by moment the movement of -historical characters (that is, re-establish the inevitable -condition of all that occurs- the continuity of movement in time) -and do not lose sight of the essential connection of historical -persons with the masses. - -When the ship moves in one direction there is one and the same -wave ahead of it, when it turns frequently the wave ahead of it also -turns frequently. But wherever it may turn there always will be the -wave anticipating its movement. - -Whatever happens it always appears that just that event was foreseen -and decreed. Wherever the ship may go, the rush of water which neither -directs nor increases its movement foams ahead of it, and at a -distance seems to us not merely to move of itself but to govern the -ship's movement also. - -Examining only those expressions of the will of historical persons -which, as commands, were related to events, historians have assumed -that the events depended on those commands. But examining the events -themselves and the connection in which the historical persons stood to -the people, we have found that they and their orders were dependent on -events. The incontestable proof of this deduction is that, however -many commands were issued, the event does not take place unless -there are other causes for it, but as soon as an event occurs- be it -what it may- then out of all the continually expressed wishes of -different people some will always be found which by their meaning -and their time of utterance are related as commands to the events. - -Arriving at this conclusion we can reply directly and positively -to these two essential questions of history: - -(1) What is power? - -(2) What force produces the movement of the nations? - -(1) Power is the relation of a given person to other individuals, in -which the more this person expresses opinions, predictions, and -justifications of the collective action that is performed, the less is -his participation in that action. - -(2) The movement of nations is caused not by power, nor by -intellectual activity, nor even by a combination of the two as -historians have supposed, but by the activity of all the people who -participate in the events, and who always combine in such a way that -those taking the largest direct share in the event take on -themselves the least responsibility and vice versa. - -Morally the wielder of power appears to cause the event; -physically it is those who submit to the power. But as the moral -activity is inconceivable without the physical, the cause of the event -is neither in the one nor in the other but in the union of the two. - -Or in other words, the conception of a cause is inapplicable to -the phenomena we are examining. - -In the last analysis we reach the circle of infinity- that final -limit to which in every domain of thought man's reason arrives if it -is not playing with the subject. Electricity produces heat, heat -produces electricity. Atoms attract each other and atoms repel one -another. - -Speaking of the interaction of heat and electricity and of atoms, we -cannot say why this occurs, and we say that it is so because it is -inconceivable otherwise, because it must be so and that it is a law. -The same applies to historical events. Why war and revolution occur we -do not know. We only know that to produce the one or the other action, -people combine in a certain formation in which they all take part, and -we say that this is so because it is unthinkable otherwise, or in -other words that it is a law. - -CHAPTER VIII - -If history dealt only with external phenomena, the establishment -of this simple and obvious law would suffice and we should have -finished our argument. But the law of history relates to man. A -particle of matter cannot tell us that it does not feel the law of -attraction or repulsion and that that law is untrue, but man, who is -the subject of history, says plainly: I am free and am therefore not -subject to the law. - -The presence of the problem of man's free will, though -unexpressed, is felt at every step of history. - -All seriously thinking historians have involuntarily encountered -this question. All the contradictions and obscurities of history and -the false path historical science has followed are due solely to the -lack of a solution of that question. - -If the will of every man were free, that is, if each man could act -as he pleased, all history would be a series of disconnected -incidents. - -If in a thousand years even one man in a million could act freely, -that is, as he chose, it is evident that one single free act of that -man's in violation of the laws governing human action would destroy -the possibility of the existence of any laws for the whole of -humanity. - -If there be a single law governing the actions of men, free will -cannot exist, for then man's will is subject to that law. - -In this contradiction lies the problem of free will, which from most -ancient times has occupied the best human minds and from most -ancient times has been presented in its whole tremendous significance. - -The problem is that regarding man as a subject of observation from -whatever point of view- theological, historical, ethical, or -philosophic- we find a general law of necessity to which he (like -all that exists) is subject. But regarding him from within ourselves -as what we are conscious of, we feel ourselves to be free. - -This consciousness is a source of self-cognition quite apart from -and independent of reason. Through his reason man observes himself, -but only through consciousness does he know himself. - -Apart from consciousness of self no observation or application of -reason is conceivable. - -To understand, observe, and draw conclusions, man must first of -all be conscious of himself as living. A man is only conscious of -himself as a living being by the fact that he wills, that is, is -conscious of his volition. But his will- which forms the essence of -his life- man recognizes (and can but recognize) as free. - -If, observing himself, man sees that his will is always directed -by one and the same law (whether he observes the necessity of taking -food, using his brain, or anything else) he cannot recognize this -never-varying direction of his will otherwise than as a limitation -of it. Were it not free it could not be limited. A man's will seems to -him to be limited just because he is not conscious of it except as -free. - -You say: I am not and am not free. But I have lifted my hand and let -it fall. Everyone understands that this illogical reply is an -irrefutable demonstration of freedom. - -That reply is the expression of a consciousness that is not -subject to reason. - -If the consciousness of freedom were not a separate and -independent source of self-consciousness it would be subject to -reasoning and to experience, but in fact such subjection does not -exist and is inconceivable. - -A series of experiments and arguments proves to every man that he, -as an object of observation, is subject to certain laws, and man -submits to them and never resists the laws of gravity or -impermeability once he has become acquainted with them. But the same -series of experiments and arguments proves to him that the complete -freedom of which he is conscious in himself is impossible, and that -his every action depends on his organization, his character, and the -motives acting upon him; yet man never submits to the deductions of -these experiments and arguments. Having learned from experiment and -argument that a stone falls downwards, a man indubitably believes this -and always expects the law that he has learned to be fulfilled. - -But learning just as certainly that his will is subject to laws, -he does not and cannot believe this. - -However often experiment and reasoning may show a man that under the -same conditions and with the same character he will do the same -thing as before, yet when under the same conditions and with the -same character he approaches for the thousandth time the action that -always ends in the same way, he feels as certainly convinced as before -the experiment that he can act as he pleases. Every man, savage or -sage, however incontestably reason and experiment may prove to him -that it is impossible to imagine two different courses of action in -precisely the same conditions, feels that without this irrational -conception (which constitutes the essence of freedom) he cannot -imagine life. He feels that however impossible it may be, it is so, -for without this conception of freedom not only would he be unable -to understand life, but he would be unable to live for a single -moment. - -He could not live, because all man's efforts, all his impulses to -life, are only efforts to increase freedom. Wealth and poverty, fame -and obscurity, power and subordination, strength and weakness, -health and disease, culture and ignorance, work and leisure, repletion -and hunger, virtue and vice, are only greater or lesser degrees of -freedom. - -A man having no freedom cannot be conceived of except as deprived of -life. - -If the conception of freedom appears to reason to be a senseless -contradiction like the possibility of performing two actions at one -and the same instant of time, or of an effect without a cause, that -only proves that consciousness is not subject to reason. - -This unshakable, irrefutable consciousness of freedom, -uncontrolled by experiment or argument, recognized by all thinkers and -felt by everyone without exception, this consciousness without which -no conception of man is possible constitutes the other side of the -question. - -Man is the creation of an all-powerful, all-good, and all-seeing -God. What is sin, the conception of which arises from the -consciousness of man's freedom? That is a question for theology. - -The actions of men are subject to general immutable laws expressed -in statistics. What is man's responsibility to society, the conception -of which results from the conception of freedom? That is a question -for jurisprudence. - -Man's actions proceed from his innate character and the motives -acting upon him. What is conscience and the perception of right and -wrong in actions that follows from the consciousness of freedom? -That is a question for ethics. - -Man in connection with the general life of humanity appears -subject to laws which determine that life. But the same man apart from -that connection appears to free. How should the past life of nations -and of humanity be regarded- as the result of the free, or as the -result of the constrained, activity of man? That is a question for -history. - -Only in our self-confident day of the popularization of knowledge- -thanks to that most powerful engine of ignorance, the diffusion of -printed matter- has the question of the freedom of will been put on -a level on which the question itself cannot exist. In our time the -majority of so-called advanced people- that is, the crowd of -ignoramuses- have taken the work of the naturalists who deal with -one side of the question for a solution of the whole problem. - -They say and write and print that the soul and freedom do not exist, -for the life of man is expressed by muscular movements and muscular -movements are conditioned by the activity of the nerves; the soul -and free will do not exist because at an unknown period of time we -sprang from the apes. They say this, not at all suspecting that -thousands of years ago that same law of necessity which with such -ardor they are now trying to prove by physiology and comparative -zoology was not merely acknowledged by all the religions and all the -thinkers, but has never been denied. They do not see that the role -of the natural sciences in this matter is merely to serve as an -instrument for the illumination of one side of it. For the fact -that, from the point of view of observation, reason and the will are -merely secretions of the brain, and that man following the general law -may have developed from lower animals at some unknown period of -time, only explains from a fresh side the truth admitted thousands -of years ago by all the religious and philosophic theories- that -from the point of view of reason man is subject to the law of -necessity; but it does not advance by a hair's breadth the solution of -the question, which has another, opposite, side, based on the -consciousness of freedom. - -If men descended from the apes at an unknown period of time, that is -as comprehensible as that they were made from a handful of earth at -a certain period of time (in the first case the unknown quantity is -the time, in the second case it is the origin); and the question of -how man's consciousness of freedom is to be reconciled with the law of -necessity to which he is subject cannot be solved by comparative -physiology and zoology, for in a frog, a rabbit, or an ape, we can -observe only the muscular nervous activity, but in man we observe -consciousness as well as the muscular and nervous activity. - -The naturalists and their followers, thinking they can solve this -question, are like plasterers set to plaster one side of the walls -of a church who, availing themselves of the absence of the chief -superintendent of the work, should in an access of zeal plaster over -the windows, icons, woodwork, and still unbuttressed walls, and should -be delighted that from their point of view as plasterers, everything -is now so smooth and regular. - -CHAPTER IX - -For the solution of the question of free will or inevitability, -history has this advantage over other branches of knowledge in which -the question is dealt with, that for history this question does not -refer to the essence of man's free will but its manifestation in the -past and under certain conditions. - -In regard to this question, history stands to the other sciences -as experimental science stands to abstract science. - -The subject for history is not man's will itself but our -presentation of it. - -And so for history, the insoluble mystery presented by the -incompatibility of free will and inevitability does not exist as it -does for theology, ethics, and philosophy. History surveys a -presentation of man's life in which the union of these two -contradictions has already taken place. - -In actual life each historic event, each human action, is very -clearly and definitely understood without any sense of -contradiction, although each event presents itself as partly free -and partly compulsory. - -To solve the question of how freedom and necessity are combined -and what constitutes the essence of these two conceptions, the -philosophy of history can and should follow a path contrary to that -taken by other sciences. Instead of first defining the conceptions -of freedom and inevitability in themselves, and then ranging the -phenomena of life under those definitions, history should deduce a -definition of the conception of freedom and inevitability themselves -from the immense quantity of phenomena of which it is cognizant and -that always appear dependent on these two elements. - -Whatever presentation of the activity of many men or of an -individual we may consider, we always regard it as the result partly -of man's free will and partly of the law of inevitability. - -Whether we speak of the migration of the peoples and the -incursions of the barbarians, or of the decrees of Napoleon III, or of -someone's action an hour ago in choosing one direction out of -several for his walk, we are unconscious of any contradiction. The -degree of freedom and inevitability governing the actions of these -people is clearly defined for us. - -Our conception of the degree of freedom often varies according to -differences in the point of view from which we regard the event, but -every human action appears to us as a certain combination of freedom -and inevitability. In every action we examine we see a certain measure -of freedom and a certain measure of inevitability. And always the more -freedom we see in any action the less inevitability do we perceive, -and the more inevitability the less freedom. - -The proportion of freedom to inevitability decreases and increases -according to the point of view from which the action is regarded, -but their relation is always one of inverse proportion. - -A sinking man who clutches at another and drowns him; or a hungry -mother exhausted by feeding her baby, who steals some food; or a man -trained to discipline who on duty at the word of command kills a -defenseless man- seem less guilty, that is, less free and more subject -to the law of necessity, to one who knows the circumstances in which -these people were placed, and more free to one who does not know -that the man was himself drowning, that the mother was hungry, that -the soldier was in the ranks, and so on. Similarly a man who committed -a murder twenty years ago and has since lived peaceably and harmlessly -in society seems less guilty and his action more due to the law of -inevitability, to someone who considers his action after twenty -years have elapsed than to one who examined it the day after it was -committed. And in the same way every action of an insane, intoxicated, -or highly excited man appears less free and more inevitable to one who -knows the mental condition of him who committed the action, and -seems more free and less inevitable to one who does not know it. In -all these cases the conception of freedom is increased or diminished -and the conception of compulsion is correspondingly decreased or -increased, according to the point of view from which the action is -regarded. So that the greater the conception of necessity the -smaller the conception of freedom and vice versa. - -Religion, the common sense of mankind, the science of jurisprudence, -and history itself understand alike this relation between necessity -and freedom. - -All cases without exception in which our conception of freedom and -necessity is increased and diminished depend on three considerations: - -(1) The relation to the external world of the man who commits the -deeds. - -(2) His relation to time. - -(3) His relation to the causes leading to the action. - -The first consideration is the clearness of our perception of the -man's relation to the external world and the greater or lesser -clearness of our understanding of the definite position occupied by -the man in relation to everything coexisting with him. This is what -makes it evident that a drowning man is less free and more subject -to necessity than one standing on dry ground, and that makes the -actions of a man closely connected with others in a thickly -populated district, or of one bound by family, official, or business -duties, seem certainly less free and more subject to necessity than -those of a man living in solitude and seclusion. - -If we consider a man alone, apart from his relation to everything -around him, each action of his seems to us free. But if we see his -relation to anything around him, if we see his connection with -anything whatever- with a man who speaks to him, a book he reads, -the work on which he is engaged, even with the air he breathes or -the light that falls on the things about him- we see that each of -these circumstances has an influence on him and controls at least some -side of his activity. And the more we perceive of these influences the -more our conception of his freedom diminishes and the more our -conception of the necessity that weighs on him increases. - -The second consideration is the more or less evident time relation -of the man to the world and the clearness of our perception of the -place the man's action occupies in time. That is the ground which -makes the fall of the first man, resulting in the production of the -human race, appear evidently less free than a man's entry into -marriage today. It is the reason why the life and activity of people -who lived centuries ago and are connected with me in time cannot -seem to me as free as the life of a contemporary, the consequences -of which are still unknown to me. - -The degree of our conception of freedom or inevitability depends -in this respect on the greater or lesser lapse of time between the -performance of the action and our judgment of it. - -If I examine an act I performed a moment ago in approximately the -same circumstances as those I am in now, my action appears to me -undoubtedly free. But if I examine an act performed a month ago, -then being in different circumstances, I cannot help recognizing -that if that act had not been committed much that resulted from it- -good, agreeable, and even essential- would not have taken place. If -I reflect on an action still more remote, ten years ago or more, -then the consequences of my action are still plainer to me and I -find it hard to imagine what would have happened had that action not -been performed. The farther I go back in memory, or what is the same -thing the farther I go forward in my judgment, the more doubtful -becomes my belief in the freedom of my action. - -In history we find a very similar progress of conviction -concerning the part played by free will in the general affairs of -humanity. A contemporary event seems to us to be indubitably the doing -of all the known participants, but with a more remote event we already -see its inevitable results which prevent our considering anything else -possible. And the farther we go back in examining events the less -arbitrary do they appear. - -The Austro-Prussian war appears to us undoubtedly the result of -the crafty conduct of Bismarck, and so on. The Napoleonic wars still -seem to us, though already questionably, to be the outcome of their -heroes' will. But in the Crusades we already see an event occupying -its definite place in history and without which we cannot imagine -the modern history of Europe, though to the chroniclers of the -Crusades that event appeared as merely due to the will of certain -people. In regard to the migration of the peoples it does not enter -anyone's head today to suppose that the renovation of the European -world depended on Attila's caprice. The farther back in history the -object of our observation lies, the more doubtful does the free will -of those concerned in the event become and the more manifest the law -of inevitability. - -The third consideration is the degree to which we apprehend that -endless chain of causation inevitably demanded by reason, in which -each phenomenon comprehended, and therefore man's every action, must -have its definite place as a result of what has gone before and as a -cause of what will follow. - -The better we are acquainted with the physiological, -psychological, and historical laws deduced by observation and by which -man is controlled, and the more correctly we perceive the -physiological, psychological, and historical causes of the action, and -the simpler the action we are observing and the less complex the -character and mind of the man in question, the more subject to -inevitability and the less free do our actions and those of others -appear. - -When we do not at all understand the cause of an action, whether a -crime, a good action, or even one that is simply nonmoral, we -ascribe a greater amount of freedom to it. In the case of a crime we -most urgently demand the punishment for such an act; in the case of -a virtuous act we rate its merit most highly. In an indifferent case -we recognize in it more individuality, originality, and -independence. But if even one of the innumerable causes of the act -is known to us we recognize a certain element of necessity and are -less insistent on punishment for the crime, or the acknowledgment of -the merit of the virtuous act, or the freedom of the apparently -original action. That a criminal was reared among male factors -mitigates his fault in our eyes. The self-sacrifice of a father or -mother, or self-sacrifice with the possibility of a reward, is more -comprehensible than gratuitous self-sacrifice, and therefore seems -less deserving of sympathy and less the result of free will. The -founder of a sect or party, or an inventor, impresses us less when -we know how or by what the way was prepared for his activity. If we -have a large range of examples, if our observation is constantly -directed to seeking the correlation of cause and effect in people's -actions, their actions appear to us more under compulsion and less -free the more correctly we connect the effects with the causes. If -we examined simple actions and had a vast number of such actions under -observation, our conception of their inevitability would be still -greater. The dishonest conduct of the son of a dishonest father, the -misconduct of a woman who had fallen into bad company, a drunkard's -relapse into drunkenness, and so on are actions that seem to us less -free the better we understand their cause. If the man whose actions we -are considering is on a very low stage of mental development, like a -child, a madman, or a simpleton- then, knowing the causes of the act -and the simplicity of the character and intelligence in question, we -see so large an element of necessity and so little free will that as -soon as we know the cause prompting the action we can foretell the -result. - -On these three considerations alone is based the conception of -irresponsibility for crimes and the extenuating circumstances admitted -by all legislative codes. The responsibility appears greater or less -according to our greater or lesser knowledge of the circumstances in -which the man was placed whose action is being judged, and according -to the greater or lesser interval of time between the commission of -the action and its investigation, and according to the greater or -lesser understanding of the causes that led to the action. - -CHAPTER X - -Thus our conception of free will and inevitability gradually -diminishes or increases according to the greater or lesser -connection with the external world, the greater or lesser remoteness -of time, and the greater or lesser dependence on the causes in -relation to which we contemplate a man's life. - -So that if we examine the case of a man whose connection with the -external world is well known, where the time between the action and -its examination is great, and where the causes of the action are -most accessible, we get the conception of a maximum of inevitability -and a minimum of free will. If we examine a man little dependent on -external conditions, whose action was performed very recently, and the -causes of whose action are beyond our ken, we get the conception of -a minimum of inevitability and a maximum of freedom. - -In neither case- however we may change our point of view, however -plain we may make to ourselves the connection between the man and -the external world, however inaccessible it may be to us, however long -or short the period of time, however intelligible or -incomprehensible the causes of the action may be- can we ever conceive -either complete freedom or complete necessity. - -(1) To whatever degree we may imagine a man to be exempt from the -influence of the external world, we never get a conception of -freedom in space. Every human action is inevitably conditioned by what -surrounds him and by his own body. I lift my arm and let it fall. My -action seems to me free; but asking myself whether I could raise my -arm in every direction, I see that I raised it in the direction in -which there was least obstruction to that action either from things -around me or from the construction of my own body. I chose one out -of all the possible directions because in it there were fewest -obstacles. For my action to be free it was necessary that it should -encounter no obstacles. To conceive of a man being free we must -imagine him outside space, which is evidently impossible. - -(2) However much we approximate the time of judgment to the time -of the deed, we never get a conception of freedom in time. For if I -examine an action committed a second ago I must still recognize it -as not being free, for it is irrevocably linked to the moment at which -it was committed. Can I lift my arm? I lift it, but ask myself: -could I have abstained from lifting my arm at the moment that has -already passed? To convince myself of this I do not lift it the next -moment. But I am not now abstaining from doing so at the first -moment when I asked the question. Time has gone by which I could not -detain, the arm I then lifted is no longer the same as the arm I now -refrain from lifting, nor is the air in which I lifted it the same -that now surrounds me. The moment in which the first movement was made -is irrevocable, and at that moment I could make only one movement, and -whatever movement I made would be the only one. That I did not lift my -arm a moment later does not prove that I could have abstained from -lifting it then. And since I could make only one movement at that -single moment of time, it could not have been any other. To imagine it -as free, it is necessary to imagine it in the present, on the boundary -between the past and the future- that is, outside time, which is -impossible. - -(3) However much the difficulty of understanding the causes may be -increased, we never reach a conception of complete freedom, that is, -an absence of cause. However inaccessible to us may be the cause of -the expression of will in any action, our own or another's, the -first demand of reason is the assumption of and search for a cause, -for without a cause no phenomenon is conceivable. I raise my arm to -perform an action independently of any cause, but my wish to perform -an action without a cause is the cause of my action. - -But even if- imagining a man quite exempt from all influences, -examining only his momentary action in the present, unevoked by any -cause- we were to admit so infinitely small a remainder of -inevitability as equaled zero, we should even then not have arrived at -the conception of complete freedom in man, for a being uninfluenced by -the external world, standing outside of time and independent of cause, -is no longer a man. - -In the same way we can never imagine the action of a man quite -devoid of freedom and entirely subject to the law of inevitability. - -(1) However we may increase our knowledge of the conditions of space -in which man is situated, that knowledge can never be complete, for -the number of those conditions is as infinite as the infinity of -space. And therefore so long as not all the conditions influencing men -are defined, there is no complete inevitability but a certain -measure of freedom remains. - -(2) However we may prolong the period of time between the action -we are examining and the judgment upon it, that period will be finite, -while time is infinite, and so in this respect too there can never -be absolute inevitability. - -(3) However accessible may be the chain of causation of any -action, we shall never know the whole chain since it is endless, and -so again we never reach absolute inevitability. - -But besides this, even if, admitting the remaining minimum of -freedom to equal zero, we assumed in some given case- as for -instance in that of a dying man, an unborn babe, or an idiot- complete -absence of freedom, by so doing we should destroy the very -conception of man in the case we are examining, for as soon as there -is no freedom there is also no man. And so the conception of the -action of a man subject solely to the law of inevitability without any -element of freedom is just as impossible as the conception of a -man's completely free action. - -And so to imagine the action of a man entirely subject to the law of -inevitability without any freedom, we must assume the knowledge of -an infinite number of space relations, an infinitely long period of -time, and an infinite series of causes. - -To imagine a man perfectly free and not subject to the law of -inevitability, we must imagine him all alone, beyond space, beyond -time, and free from dependence on cause. - -In the first case, if inevitability were possible without freedom we -should have reached a definition of inevitability by the laws of -inevitability itself, that is, a mere form without content. - -In the second case, if freedom were possible without inevitability -we should have arrived at unconditioned freedom beyond space, time, -and cause, which by the fact of its being unconditioned and -unlimited would be nothing, or mere content without form. - -We should in fact have reached those two fundamentals of which man's -whole outlook on the universe is constructed- the incomprehensible -essence of life, and the laws defining that essence. - -Reason says: (1) space with all the forms of matter that give it -visibility is infinite, and cannot be imagined otherwise. (2) Time -is infinite motion without a moment of rest and is unthinkable -otherwise. (3) The connection between cause and effect has no -beginning and can have no end. - -Consciousness says: (1) I alone am, and all that exists is but me, -consequently I include space. (2) I measure flowing time by the -fixed moment of the present in which alone I am conscious of myself as -living, consequently I am outside time. (3) I am beyond cause, for I -feel myself to be the cause of every manifestation of my life. - -Reason gives expression to the laws of inevitability. -Consciousness gives expression to the essence of freedom. - -Freedom not limited by anything is the essence of life, in man's -consciousness. Inevitability without content is man's reason in its -three forms. - -Freedom is the thing examined. Inevitability is what examines. -Freedom is the content. Inevitability is the form. - -Only by separating the two sources of cognition, related to one -another as form to content, do we get the mutually exclusive and -separately incomprehensible conceptions of freedom and inevitability. - -Only by uniting them do we get a clear conception of man's life. - -Apart from these two concepts which in their union mutually define -one another as form and content, no conception of life is possible. - -All that we know of the life of man is merely a certain relation -of free will to inevitability, that is, of consciousness to the laws -of reason. - -All that we know of the external world of nature is only a certain -relation of the forces of nature to inevitability, or of the essence -of life to the laws of reason. - -The great natural forces lie outside us and we are not conscious -of them; we call those forces gravitation, inertia, electricity, -animal force, and so on, but we are conscious of the force of life -in man and we call that freedom. - -But just as the force of gravitation, incomprehensible in itself but -felt by every man, is understood by us only to the extent to which -we know the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the -first knowledge that all bodies have weight, up to Newton's law), so -too the force of free will, incomprehensible in itself but of which -everyone is conscious, is intelligible to us only in as far as we know -the laws of inevitability to which it is subject (from the fact that -every man dies, up to the knowledge of the most complex economic and -historic laws). - -All knowledge is merely a bringing of this essence of life under the -laws of reason. - -Man's free will differs from every other force in that man is -directly conscious of it, but in the eyes of reason it in no way -differs from any other force. The forces of gravitation, -electricity, or chemical affinity are only distinguished from one -another in that they are differently defined by reason. Just so the -force of man's free will is distinguished by reason from the other -forces of nature only by the definition reason gives it. Freedom, -apart from necessity, that is, apart from the laws of reason that -define it, differs in no way from gravitation, or heat, or the force -that makes things grow; for reason, it is only a momentary undefinable -sensation of life. - -And as the undefinable essence of the force moving the heavenly -bodies, the undefinable essence of the forces of heat and electricity, -or of chemical affinity, or of the vital force, forms the content of -astronomy, physics, chemistry, botany, zoology, and so on, just in the -same way does the force of free will form the content of history. -But just as the subject of every science is the manifestation of -this unknown essence of life while that essence itself can only be the -subject of metaphysics, even the manifestation of the force of free -will in human beings in space, in time, and in dependence on cause -forms the subject of history, while free will itself is the subject of -metaphysics. - -In the experimental sciences what we know we call the laws of -inevitability, what is unknown to us we call vital force. Vital -force is only an expression for the unknown remainder over and above -what we know of the essence of life. - -So also in history what is known to us we call laws of -inevitability, what is unknown we call free will. Free will is for -history only an expression for the unknown remainder of what we know -about the laws of human life. - -CHAPTER XI - -History examines the manifestations of man's free will in connection -with the external world in time and in dependence on cause, that is, -it defines this freedom by the laws of reason, and so history is a -science only in so far as this free will is defined by those laws. - -The recognition of man's free will as something capable of -influencing historical events, that is, as not subject to laws, is the -same for history as the recognition of a free force moving the -heavenly bodies would be for astronomy. - -That assumption would destroy the possibility of the existence of -laws, that is, of any science whatever. If there is even a single body -moving freely, then the laws of Kepler and Newton are negatived and no -conception of the movement of the heavenly bodies any longer exists. -If any single action is due to free will, then not a single historical -law can exist, nor any conception of historical events. - -For history, lines exist of the movement of human wills, one end -of which is hidden in the unknown but at the other end of which a -consciousness of man's will in the present moves in space, time, and -dependence on cause. - -The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the -more evident are the laws of that movement. To discover and define -those laws is the problem of history. - -From the standpoint from which the science of history now regards -its subject on the path it now follows, seeking the causes of events -in man's freewill, a scientific enunciation of those laws is -impossible, for however man's free will may be restricted, as soon -as we recognize it as a force not subject to law, the existence of law -becomes impossible. - -Only by reducing this element of free will to the infinitesimal, -that is, by regarding it as an infinitely small quantity, can we -convince ourselves of the absolute inaccessibility of the causes, -and then instead of seeking causes, history will take the discovery of -laws as its problem. - -The search for these laws has long been begun and the new methods of -thought which history must adopt are being worked out simultaneously -with the self-destruction toward which- ever dissecting and dissecting -the causes of phenomena- the old method of history is moving. - -All human sciences have traveled along that path. Arriving at -infinitesimals, mathematics, the most exact of sciences, abandons -the process of analysis and enters on the new process of the -integration of unknown, infinitely small, quantities. Abandoning the -conception of cause, mathematics seeks law, that is, the property -common to all unknown, infinitely small, elements. - -In another form but along the same path of reflection the other -sciences have proceeded. When Newton enunciated the law of gravity -he did not say that the sun or the earth had a property of attraction; -he said that all bodies from the largest to the smallest have the -property of attracting one another, that is, leaving aside the -question of the cause of the movement of the bodies, he expressed -the property common to all bodies from the infinitely large to the -infinitely small. The same is done by the natural sciences: leaving -aside the question of cause, they seek for laws. History stands on the -same path. And if history has for its object the study of the movement -of the nations and of humanity and not the narration of episodes in -the lives of individuals, it too, setting aside the conception of -cause, should seek the laws common to all the inseparably -interconnected infinitesimal elements of free will. - -CHAPTER XII - -From the time the law of Copernicus was discovered and proved, the -mere recognition of the fact that it was not the sun but the earth -that moves sufficed to destroy the whole cosmography of the -ancients. By disproving that law it might have been possible to retain -the old conception of the movements of the bodies, but without -disproving it, it would seem impossible to continue studying the -Ptolemaic worlds. But even after the discovery of the law of -Copernicus the Ptolemaic worlds were still studied for a long time. - -From the time the first person said and proved that the number of -births or of crimes is subject to mathematical laws, and that this -or that mode of government is determined by certain geographical and -economic conditions, and that certain relations of population to -soil produce migrations of peoples, the foundations on which history -had been built were destroyed in their essence. - -By refuting these new laws the former view of history might have -been retained; but without refuting them it would seem impossible to -continue studying historic events as the results of man's free will. -For if a certain mode of government was established or certain -migrations of peoples took place in consequence of such and such -geographic, ethnographic, or economic conditions, then the free will -of those individuals who appear to us to have established that mode of -government or occasioned the migrations can no longer be regarded as -the cause. - -And yet the former history continues to be studied side by side with -the laws of statistics, geography, political economy, comparative -philology, and geology, which directly contradict its assumptions. - -The struggle between the old views and the new was long and -stubbornly fought out in physical philosophy. Theology stood on -guard for the old views and accused the new of violating revelation. -But when truth conquered, theology established itself just as firmly -on the new foundation. - -Just as prolonged and stubborn is the struggle now proceeding -between the old and the new conception of history, and theology in the -same way stands on guard for the old view, and accuses the new view of -subverting revelation. - -In the one case as in the other, on both sides the struggle provokes -passion and stifles truth. On the one hand there is fear and regret -for the loss of the whole edifice constructed through the ages, on the -other is the passion for destruction. - -To the men who fought against the rising truths of physical -philosophy, it seemed that if they admitted that truth it would -destroy faith in God, in the creation of the firmament, and in the -miracle of Joshua the son of Nun. To the defenders of the laws of -Copernicus and Newton, to Voltaire for example, it seemed that the -laws of astronomy destroyed religion, and he utilized the law of -gravitation as a weapon against religion. - -Just so it now seems as if we have only to admit the law of -inevitability, to destroy the conception of the soul, of good and -evil, and all the institutions of state and church that have been -built up on those conceptions. - -So too, like Voltaire in his time, uninvited defenders of the law of -inevitability today use that law as a weapon against religion, -though the law of inevitability in history, like the law of Copernicus -in astronomy, far from destroying, even strengthens the foundation -on which the institutions of state and church are erected. - -As in the question of astronomy then, so in the question of -history now, the whole difference of opinion is based on the -recognition or nonrecognition of something absolute, serving as the -measure of visible phenomena. In astronomy it was the immovability -of the earth, in history it is the independence of personality- free -will. - -As with astronomy the difficulty of recognizing the motion of the -earth lay in abandoning the immediate sensation of the earth's -fixity and of the motion of the planets, so in history the -difficulty of recognizing the subjection of personality to the laws of -space, time, and cause lies in renouncing the direct feeling of the -independence of one's own personality. But as in astronomy the new -view said: "It is true that we do not feel the movement of the -earth, but by admitting its immobility we arrive at absurdity, while -by admitting its motion (which we do not feel) we arrive at laws," -so also in history the new view says: "It is true that we are not -conscious of our dependence, but by admitting our free will we -arrive at absurdity, while by admitting our dependence on the external -world, on time, and on cause, we arrive at laws." - -In the first case it was necessary to renounce the consciousness -of an unreal immobility in space and to recognize a motion we did -not feel; in the present case it is similarly necessary to renounce -a freedom that does not exist, and to recognize a dependence of -which we are not conscious. - -% Notes: -% SiSU: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu -% SiSU markup for 0.16 and later -% SiSU markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample -% Output: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy -% Markup: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/markup/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst -% Syntax: http://www.jus.uio.no/sisu/sample/syntax/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst.html - diff --git a/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/pod.manifest b/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/pod.manifest deleted file mode 100644 index 695a567..0000000 --- a/markup/pod/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy/pod.manifest +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2 +0,0 @@ -doc: - path: media/text/en/war_and_peace.leo_tolstoy.sst |