战争与和平(上)-第173章

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hing　his　left　elbow　with　a　rather　theatrical　gesture；　he　held　the　guitar　above　the　finger…board；　and　winking　at　Anisya　Fyodorovna；　he　played；　not　the　first　notes　of　“My　Lady；”　but　a　single　pure　musical　chord；　and　then　smoothly；　quietly；　but　confidently　began　playing　in　very　slow　time　the　well…known　song；　“As　along　the　high　road。”　The　air　of　the　song　thrilled　in　Nikolay’s　and　Natasha’s　hearts　in　time；　in　tune　with　it；　with　the　same　sober　gaiety—the　same　gaiety　as　was　manifest　in　the　whole　personality　of　Anisya　Fyodorovna。　Anisya　Fyodorovna　flushed；　and　hiding　her　face　in　her　kerchief；　went　laughing　out　of　the　room。　The　uncle　still　went　on　playing　the　song　carefully；　correctly；　and　vigorously；　gazing　with　a　transformed；　inspired　face　at　the　spot　where　Anisya　Fyodorovna　had　stood。　Laughter　came　gradually　into　his　face　on　one　side　under　his　grey　moustache；　and　it　grew　stronger　as　the　song　went　on；　as　the　time　quickened；　and　breaks　came　after　a　flourish。
“Splendid；　splendid；　uncle！　Again；　again！”　cried　Natasha；　as　soon　as　he　had　finished。　She　jumped　up　from　her　place　and　kissed　and　hugged　the　uncle。　“Nikolenka；　Nikolenka！”　she　said；　looking　round　at　her　brother　as　though　to　ask；　“What　do　you　say　to　it？”
Nikolay；　too；　was　much　pleased　by　the　uncle’s　playing。　He　played　the　song　a　second　time。　The　smiling　face　of　Anisya　Fyodorovna　appeared　again　in　the　doorway　and　other　faces　behind　her。…　“For　the　water　from　the　well；　a　maiden　calls　to　him　to　stay！”　played　the　uncle。　He　made　another　dexterous　flourish　and　broke　off；　twitching　his　shoulders。
“Oh；　oh；　uncle　darling！”　wailed　Natasha；　in　a　voice　as　imploring　as　though　her　life　depended　on　it。　The　uncle　got　up；　and　there　seemed　to　be　two　men　in　him　at　that　moment—one　smiled　seriously　at　the　antics　of　the　merry　player；　while　the　merry　player　na？vely　and　carefully　executed　the　steps　preliminary　to　the　dance。
“Come；　little　niece！”　cried　the　uncle；　waving　to　Natasha　the　hand　that　had　struck　the　last　chord。
Natasha　flung　off　the　shawl　that　had　been　wrapped　round　her；　ran　forward　facing　the　uncle；　and　setting　her　arms　akimbo；　made　the　movements　of　her　shoulder　and　waist。
Where；　how；　when　had　this　young　countess；　educated　by　a　French　émigrée；　sucked　in　with　the　Russian　air　she　breathed　the　spirit　of　that　dance？　Where　had　she　picked　up　these　movements　which　the　pas　de　chale　would；　one　might　have　thought；　long　ago　have　eradicated？　But　the　spirit；　the　motions　were　those　inimitable；　unteachable；　Russian　gestures　the　uncle　had　hoped　for　from　her。　As　soon　as　she　stood　up；　and　smiled　that　triumphant；　proud　smile　of　sly　gaiety；　the　dread　that　had　come　on　Nikolay　and　all　the　spectators　at　the　first　moment；　the　dread　that　she　would　not　dance　it　well；　was　at　an　end　and　they　were　already　admiring　her。
She　danced　the　dance　well；　so　well　indeed；　so　perfectly；　that　Anisya　Fyodorovna；　who　handed　her　at　once　the　kerchief　she　needed　in　the　dance；　had　tears　in　her　eyes；　though　she　laughed　as　she　watched　that　slender；　graceful　little　countess；　reared　in　silk　and　velvet；　belonging　to　another　world　than　hers；　who　was　yet　able　to　understand　all　that　was　in　Anisya　and　her　father　and　her　mother　and　her　aunt　and　every　Russian　soul。
“Well　done；　little　countess—forward；　quick　march！”　cried　the　uncle；　laughing　gleefully　as　he　finished　the　dance。　“Ah；　that’s　a　niece　to　be　proud　of！　She　only　wants　a　fine　fellow　picked　out　now　for　her　husband；—and　then；　forward；　quick　march！”
“One　has　been　picked　out　already；”　said　Nikolay；　smiling。
“Oh！”　said　the　uncle　in　surprise；　looking　inquiringly　at　Natasha。　Natasha　nodded　her　head　with　a　happy　smile。
“And　such　an　one！”　she　said。　But　as　soon　as　she　said　it　a　different；　new　series　of　ideas　and　feelings　rose　up　within　her。　“What　was　the　meaning　of　Nikolay’s　smile　when　he　said：　‘One　has　been　picked　out　already’？　Was　he　glad　of　it；　or　not　glad？　He　seemed　to　think　my　Bolkonsky　would　not　approve；　would　not　understand　our　gaiety　now。　No；　he　would　quite　understand　it。　Where　is　he　now？”　Natasha　wondered；　and　her　face　became　serious　at　once。　But　that　lasted　only　one　second。　“I　mustn’t　think；　I　mustn’t　dare　to　think　about　that；”　she　said　to　herself；　and　smiling；　she　sat　down　again　near　the　uncle；　begging　him　to　play　them　something　more。
The　uncle　played　another　song　and　waltz。　Then；　after　a　pause；　he　cleared　his　throat　and　began　to　sing　his　favourite　hunting　song：—
“When　there　fall　at　evening　glow
The　first　flakes　of　winter　snow。”…
The　uncle　sang；　as　peasants　sing；　in　full　and　naive　conviction　that　in　a　song　the　whole　value　rests　in　the　words；　that　the　tune　comes　of　itself　and　that　a　tune　apart　is　nothing；　that　the　tune　is　only　for　the　sake　of　the　verse。　And　this　gave　the　uncle’s　unself…conscious　singing　a　peculiar　charm；　like　the　song　of　birds。　Natasha　was　in　ecstasies　over　the　uncle’s　singing。　She　made　up　her　mind　not　to　learn　the　harp　any　longer；　but　to　play　only　on　the　guitar。　She　asked　the　uncle　for　the　guitar　and　at　once　struck　the　chords　of　the　song。
At　ten　o’clock　there　arrived　the　wagonette；　a　trap；　and　three　men　on　horseback；　who　had　been　sent　to　look　for　Natasha　and　Petya。　The　count　and　countess　did　not　know　where　they　were　and　were　very　anxious；　so　said　one　of　the　men。
Petya　was　carried　out　and　laid　in　the　wagonette　as　though　he　had　been　a　corpse。　Natasha　and　Nikolay　got　into　the　trap。　The　uncle　wrapped　Natasha　up；　and　said　good…bye　to　her　with　quite　a　new　tenderness。　He　accompanied　them　on　foot　as　far　as　the　bridge　which　they　had　to　ride　round；　fording　the　stream；　and　bade　his　huntsmen　ride　in　front　with　lanterns。
“Farewell；　dear　little　niece！”　they　heard　called　in　the　darkness　by　his　voice；　not　the　one　Natasha　had　been　familiar　with　before；　but　the　voice　that　had　sung　“When　there　fall　at　evening　glow。”
There　were　red　lights　in　the　village　they　drove　through　and　a　cheerful　smell　of　smoke。
“What　a　darling　that　uncle　is！”　said　Natasha　as　they　drove　out　into　the　highroad。
“Yes；”　said　Nikolay。　“You’re　not　cold？”
“No；　I’m　very　comfortable；　very。　I　am　so　happy；”　said　Natasha；　positively　perplexed　at　her　own　well…being。　They　were　silent　for　a　long　while。
The　night　was　dark　and　damp。　They　could　not　see　the　horses；　but　could　only　hear　them　splashing　through　the　unseen　mud。
What　was　passing　in　that　childlike；　responsive　soul；　that　so　eagerly　caught　and　made　its　own　all　the　varied　impressions　of　life？　How　were　they　all　stored　away　in　her　heart？　But　she　was　very　happy。　They　were　getting　near　home　when　she　suddenly　hummed　the　air　of　“When　there　fall　at　evening　glow；”　which　she　had　been　trying　to　get　all　the　way；　and　had　only　just　succeeded　in　catching。
“Have　you　caught　it？”　said　Nikolay。
“What　are　you　thinking　of　just　now；　Nikolay？”　asked　Natasha。　They　were　fond　of　asking　each　other　that　question。
“I？”　said　Nikolay；　trying　to　recall。　“Well；　you　see；　at　first　I　was　thinking　that　Rugay；　the　red　dog；　is　like　the　uncle；　and　that　if　he　were　a　man　he　would　keep　uncle　always　in　the　house　with　him；　if　not　for　racing；　for　music　he’d　keep　him　anyway。　How　jolly　uncle　is！　Isn’t　he？　Well；　and　you？”
“I？　Wait　a　minute；　wait　a　minute！　Oh；　I　was　thinking　at　first　that　here　we　are　driving　and　supposing　that　we　are　going　home；　but　God　knows　where　we　are　going　in　this　darkness；　and　all　of　a　sudden　we　shall　arrive　and　see　we　are　not　at　Otradnoe　but　in　fairyland。　And　then　I　thought；　too　…　no；　nothing　more。”
“I　know；　of　course；　you　thought　of　him；”　said　Nikolay；　smiling；　as　Natasha　could　tell　by　his　voice。
“No；”　Natasha　answered；　though　she　really　had　been　thinking　at　the　same　time　of　Prince　Andrey　and　how　he　would　like　the　uncle。　“And　I　keep　repeating；　too；　all　the　way　I　keep　repeating：　how　nicely　Anisyushka　walked；　how　nicely…”　said　Natasha。　And　Nikolay　heard　her　musical；　causeless；　happy　laugh。
“And　do　you　know？”　she　said　suddenly。　“I　know　I　shall　never　be　as　happy；　as　peaceful　as　I　am　now…”
“What　nonsense；　idiocy；　rubbish！”　said　Nikolay；　and　he　thought：　“What　a　darling　this　Natasha　of　mine　is！　I　have　never　had；　and　never　shall　have；　another　friend　like　her。　Why　should　she　be　married？　I　could　drive　like　this　with　her　for　ever！”
“What　a　darling　this　Nikolay　of　mine　is！”　Natasha　was　thinking。
“Ah