战争与和平(上)-第165章

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all　to　their　favourite　belle；　Madame　Borzhozovsky。　Yet　he　knew　he　must　leave　world；　where　all　was　well　and　all　was　clear；　to　go　where　all　was　nonsensical　and　complicated。　A　week　later　his　leave　came。　His　comrades—not　only　in　the　regiment；　but　throughout　the　whole　brigade—gave　Rostov　a　dinner　that　cost　a　subscription　of　fifteen　roubles　a　head。　Two　bands　of　musicians　played；　two　choruses　sang；　Rostov　danced　the　trepak　with　Major　Bazov；　the　drunken　officers　tossed　him　in　the　air；　hugged　him；　dropped　him；　the　soldiers　of　the　third　squadron　tossed　him　once　more　and　shouted　hurrah！　Then　they　put　Rostov　in　a　sledge　and　escorted　him　as　far　as　the　first　posting…station　on　his　way。
For　the　first　half　of　the　journey；　from　Krementchug　to　Kiev；　all　Rostov’s　thoughts—as　is　apt　to　be　the　case　with　travellers—turned　to　what　he　had　left　behind—to　his　squadron。　But　after　being　jolted　over　the　first　half　of　the　journey；　he　had　begun　to　forget　his　three　roans　and　his　quartermaster；　Dozhoyveyky；　and　was　beginning　to　wonder　uneasily　what　he　should　find　on　reaching　Otradnoe。　The　nearer　he　got；　the　more　intense；　far　more　intense；　were　his　thoughts　of　home　（as　though　moral　feeling　were　subject　to　the　law　of　acceleration　in　inverse　ratio　with　the　square　of　the　distance）。　At　the　station　nearest　to　Otradnoe　he　gave　the　sledge…driver　a　tip　of　three　roubles；　and　ran　breathless　up　the　steps　of　his　home；　like　a　boy。
After　the　excitement　of　the　first　meeting；　and　the　strange　feeling　of　disappointment　after　his　expectations—the　feeling　that　“it’s　just　the　same；　why　was　I　in　such　a　hurry？”—Nikolay　began　to　settle　down　in　his　old　world　of　home。　His　father　and　mother　were　just　the　same；　only　a　little　older。　All　that　was　new　in　them　was　a　certain　uneasiness　and　at　times　a　difference　of　opinion；　which　he　had　never　seen　between　them　before；　and　soon　learned　to　be　due　to　the　difficulties　of　their　position。
Sonya　was　now　nearly　twenty。　She　would　grow　no　prettier　now；　there　was　no　promise　in　her　of　more　to　come；　but　what　she　had　was　enough。　She　was　brimming　over　with　love　and　happiness　as　soon　as　Nikolay　came　home；　and　this　girl’s　faithful；　steadfast　love　for　him　gladdened　his　heart。　Petya　and　Natasha　surprised　Nikolay　more　than　all　the　rest。　Petya　was　a　big；　handsome　lad　of　thirteen；　whose　voice　was　already　cracking；　he　was　full　of　gaiety　and　clever　pranks。　Nikolay　did　not　get　over　his　wonder　at　Natasha　for　a　long　while；　and　laughed　as　he　looked　at　her。
“You’re　utterly　different；”　he　told　her。
“How？　Uglier？”
“No；　quite　the　contrary；　but　what　dignity！　A　real　princess！”　he　whispered　to　her。
“Yes；　yes；　yes；”　cried　Natasha　gleefully。
Natasha　told　him　all　the　story　of　Prince　Andrey’s　lovemaking；　of　his　visit　to　Otradnoe；　and　showed　him　his　last　letter。
“Well；　are　you　glad？”　asked　Natasha。　“I’m　so　at　peace　and　happy　now。”
“Very　glad；”　answered　Nikolay。　“He’s　a　splendid　fellow。　Are　you　very　much　in　love；　then？”
“How　shall　I　say？”　answered　Natasha。　“I　was　in　love　with　Boris；　with　our　teacher；　with　Denisov；　but　this　is　utterly　different。　I　feel　calm；　settled。　I　know　there　is　no　one　better　than　he　in　the　world；　and　so　I　am　calm　now　and　content。　It’s　utterly　different　from　anything　before…”
Nikolay　expressed　his　dissatisfaction　at　the　marriage　being　put　off　for　a　year。　But　Natasha　fell　on　him　with　exasperation；　proving　to　him　that　no　other　course　was　possible；　that　it　would　be　a　horrid　thing　to　enter　a　family　against　the　father’s　will；　and　that　she　would　not　consent　to　it　herself。
“You　don’t　understand　at　all；　at　all；”　she　kept　saying。
Nikolay　paused　a　moment；　and　then　said　he　agreed　with　her。
Her　brother　often　wondered　as　he　looked　at　her。　It　seemed　quite　incredible　that　she　was　a　girl　in　love　and　parted　from　her　betrothed　lover。　She　was　even…tempered；　serene；　and　quite　as　light…hearted　as　ever。　This　made　Nikolay　wonder；　and　look　on　the　engagement　to　Bolkonsky　rather　sceptically。　He　could　not　believe　that　her　fate　was　by　now　sealed；　especially　as　he　had　never　seen　her　with　Prince　Andrey。　It　still　seemed　to　him　that　there　was　something　not　real　in　this　proposed　marriage。
“Why　this　delay？　Why　were　they　not　formally　betrothed？”　he　thought。
Once　in　talking　to　his　mother　about　his　sister；　he　found　to　his　surprise；　and　partly　to　his　satisfaction；　that　at　the　bottom　of　her　heart　his　mother　sometimes　regarded　the　marriage　as　sceptically　as　he　did。
“Here；　you　see；　he　writes；”　she　said；　showing　her　son　a　letter　from　Prince　Andrey　with　that　latent　feeling　of　grudge　which　mothers　always　have　in　regard　to　their　daughter’s　happiness　in　marriage；　“he　writes　that　he　won’t　be　coming　before　December。　What　can　it　be　that　keeps　him？　Illness；　no　doubt！　His　health　is　very　weak。　Don’t　tell　Natasha。　Don’t　make　a　mistake；　because　she　seems　in　good　spirits；　it’s　the　last　she　has　of　her　girlhood；　and　I　know　how　she　is　when　she　gets　his　letters。　Still；　God　grant；　all　may　be　well　yet；”　she　always　concluded：　“he’s　a　splendid　fellow。”


Chapter　2
IN　THE　EARLY　PART　of　his　time　at　home　Nikolay　was　serious　and　even　dull。　He　was　worried　by　the　necessity　of　meddling　in　the　stupid　business　matters　which　his　mother　had　sent　for　him　to　look　after。　To　be　rid　of　this　burden　as　soon　as　possible；　on　the　third　day　after　his　return；　he　marched　angrily　off；　making　no　reply　to　inquiries　where　he　was　going；　with　scowling　brows　entered　Mitenka’s　lodge；　and　demanded　from　him　an　account　in　full。　What　he　meant　by　an　account　in　full；　Nikolay　knew　even　less　than　the　panic…stricken　and　bewildered　Mitenka。　The　conversation　and　Mitenka’s　accounts　did　not　last　long。　The　village　elder；　the　deputy；　and　the　village　clerk；　waiting　in　the　entry　of　the　lodge；　heard　with　awe　and　delight　at　first　the　booming　and　snapping　of　the　young　count’s　voice　in　a　constantly　ascending　scale；　then　terrible　words　of　abuse；　flung　one　after　another。
“Robber！　Ungrateful　brute！…I’ll　thrash　the　dog！…not　papa　to　deal　with…plundering　us…”　and　so　on。
Then；　with　no　less　awe　and　delight；　these　persons　saw　the　young　count；　with　a　red　face　and　bloodshot　eyes；　dragging　Mitenka　out　by　the　collar；　kicking　him　with　great　dexterity　at　every　appropriate　moment　between　his　words；　and　shouting：
“Away　with　you！　Never　let　me　set　eyes　on　you；　blackguard！”
Mitenka　flew　head　first　down　six　steps　and　ran　to　the　shrubbery。　This　shrubbery　was　well　known　as　a　haven　of　refuge　for　delinquents　at　Otradnoe。　Mitenka　had；　on　coming　home　drunk　from　the　town；　himself　hidden　in　the　shrubbery；　and　many　of　the　residents　of　Otradnoe　had　been　indebted　to　the　saving　power　of　the　shrubbery　when　anxious　to　conceal　themselves　from　Mitenka。
Mitenka’s　wife　and　sister…in…law；　with　frightened　faces；　peeped　into　the　passage　from　the　door　of　their　room；　where　was　a　bright　samovar　boiling；　and　the　bailiff’s　high　bedstead　stood　under　a　quilted　patchwork　coverlet。
The　young　count　walked　by；　treading　resolutely　and　breathing　hard；　taking　no　notice　of　them；　and　went　into　the　house。
The　countess　heard　at　once　through　her　maids　of　what　had　been　happening　in　the　lodge；　and　on　one　side　was　comforted　by　the　reflection　that　now　their　position　would　be　sure　to　improve；　though　on　the　other　hand　she　was　uneasy　as　to　the　effect　of　the　scene　on　her　son。　She　went　several　times　on　tiptoe　to　his　door；　and　listened　as　he　lighted　one　pipe　after　another。
The　next　day　the　old　count　drew　his　son　on　one　side；　and；　with　a　timid　smile；　said　to　him；　“But　you　know；　my　dear　boy；　you　had　no　reason　to　be　so　angry。　Mitenka　has　told　me　all　about　it。”
“I　knew；”　thought　Nikolay；　“that　I　should　never　make　head　or　tail　of　anything　in　this　crazy　world。”
“You　were　angry　at　his　not　having　put　down　these　seven　hundred　and　eight　roubles。　But　you　see　they　were　carried　forward　by　double　entry；　and　you　didn’t　look　at　the　next　page。”
“Papa；　he’s　a　blackguard　and　a　thief；　I　am　certain。　And　what　I　have　done；　I　have　done。　But　if　you　don’t　wish　it；　I　will　say　nothing　to　him。”
“No；　my　dear　boy！”　（The　old　count　was　confused。　He　was　conscious　that　he　had　mismanaged　his　wife’s　estate　and　had　wronged　his　children；　but　he　had　no　notion　how　to　rectify　the　position。）　“No；　I　beg　you　to　go　into　things。　I　am　old。　I…”
“No；　papa；　forgive　me　if　I　have　done