战争与和平(上)-第201章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


the　club。　In　the　club　everything　was　going　on　just　as　usual：　the　members　who　had　come　in　to　dinner　were　sitting　in　groups；　they　greeted　Pierre；　and　talked　of　the　news　of　the　town。　The　footman；　after　greeting　him；　told　him；　as　he　knew　his　friends　and　his　habits；　that　there　was　a　place　left　for　him　in　the　little　dining…room；　that　Prince　Mihail　Zaharitch　was　in　the　library；　and　that　Pavel　Timofeitch　had　not　come　in　yet。　One　of　Pierre’s　acquaintances　asked　him　in　the　middle　of　a　conversation　about　the　weather；　whether　he　had　heard　of　Kuragin’s　elopement　with　Natalie　Rostov；　of　which　every　one　was　talking　in　the　town；　was　it　true？　Pierre　said；　laughing；　that　it　was　all　nonsense；　for　he　had　just　come　from　the　Rostovs’。　He　asked　every　one　about　Anatole；　one　man　told　him　he　had　not　come　in　yet；　another　said　he　was　to　dine　there　that　day。　It　was　strange　to　Pierre　to　look　at　that　calm；　indifferent　crowd　of　people；　who　knew　nothing　of　what　was　passing　in　his　soul。　He　walked　about　the　hall；　waited　till　every　one　had　come　in；　and　still　seeing　nothing　of　Anatole；　he　did　not　dine；　but　drove　home。
Anatole　was　dining　that　day　with　Dolohov；　and　consulting　with　him　how　to　achieve　the　exploit　that　had　miscarried。　It　seemed　to　him　essential　to　see　Natasha。　In　the　evening　he　went　to　his　sister’s；　to　discuss　with　her　means　for　arranging　their　meeting。　When　Pierre；　after　vainly　driving　about　all　Moscow；　returned　home；　his　valet　told　him　that　Prince　Anatole　Vassilyevitch　was　with　the　countess。　The　drawing…room　of　the　countess　was　full　of　guests。
Pierre　did　not　bestow　a　greeting　on　his　wife；　whom　he　had　not　seen　since　his　return　（she　was　more　hateful　to　him　than　ever　at　that　moment）；　he　walked　into　the　drawing…room；　and　seeing　Anatole；　went　straight　up　to　him。
“Ah；　Pierre；”　said　the　countess；　going　up　to　her　husband；　“you　don’t　know　what　a　plight　our　poor　Anatole　is　in　…”　She　stopped　short；　seeing　in　her　husband’s　bowed　head；　in　his　glittering　eyes；　in　his　resolute　tread；　that　terrible　look　of　rage　and　power；　which　she　knew　and　had　experienced　in　her　own　case　after　the　duel　with　Dolohov。
“Wherever　you　are；　there　is　vice　and　wickedness；”　said　Pierre　to　his　wife。　“Anatole；　come　along；　I　want　a　word　with　you；”　he　said　in　French。　Anatole　looked　round　at　his　sister；　and　got　up　obediently；　prepared　to　follow　Pierre。
Pierre　took　him　by　the　arm；　drew　him　to　him；　and　walked　out　of　the　room。
“If　you　allow　yourself　in　my　drawing…room…”　Ellen　whispered；　but　Pierre　walked　out　of　the　room；　without　answering　her。
Anatole　followed　him；　with　his　usual　jaunty　swagger。　But　his　face　betrayed　uneasiness。　Going　into　his　own　room；　Pierre　shut　the　door；　and　addressed　Anatole　without　looking　at　him。　“Did　you　promise　Countess　Rostov　to　marry　her？　Did　you　try　to　elope　with　her？”
“My　dear　fellow；”　answered　Anatole；　in　French　（as　was　the　whole　conversation）；　“I　don’t　consider　myself　bound　to　answer　questions　put　to　me　in　that　tone。”
Pierre’s　face；　which　had　been　pale　before；　was　distorted　by　fury。　With　his　big　hand　he　clutched　Anatole　by　the　collar　of　his　uniform；　and　proceeded　to　shake　him　from　side　to　side；　till　Anatole’s　face　showed　a　sufficient　degree　of　terror。
“When　I　say　I　want　a　word　with　you　…”　Pierre　repeated。
“Well；　what？　this　is　stupid。　Eh？”　said　Anatole；　feeling　a　button　of　his　collar　that　had　been　torn　off　with　the　cloth。
“You’re　a　scoundrel　and　a　blackguard；　and　I　don’t　know　what　prevents　me　from　permitting　myself　the　pleasure　of　braining　you　with　this；　see；”　said　Pierre；　expressing　himself　so　artificially；　because　he　was　speaking　French。　He　took　up　a　heavy　paper…weight；　and　lifted　it　in　a　menacing　way；　but　at　once　hurriedly　put　it　down　in　its　place。
“Did　you　promise　to　marry　her？”
“I；　I；　…　I　…　didn’t　think　…　I　never　promised；　though；　because　…”
Pierre　interrupted　him。
“Have　you　any　of　her　letters？　Have　you　any　letters？”　Pierre　repeated；　advancing　upon　Anatole。　Anatole　glanced　at　him；　and　at　once　thrust　his　hand　in　his　pocket；　and　took　out　a　pocket…book。
Pierre　took　the　letter　he　gave　him；　and　pushing　away　a　table　that　stood　in　the　way；　he　plumped　down　on　the　sofa。
“I　won’t　be　violent；　don’t　be　afraid；”　said　Pierre；　in　response　to　a　gesture　of　alarm　from　Anatole。　“Letters—one；”　said　Pierre；　as　though　repeating　a　lesson　to　himself。　“Two”—after　a　moment’s　silence　he　went　on；　getting　up　again　and　beginning　to　walk　about—“to…morrow　you　are　to　leave　Moscow。”
“But　how　can　I　…？”
“Three”—Pierre　went　on；　not　heeding　him—“you　are　never　to　say　a　word　of　what　has　passed　between　you　and　the　young　countess。　That　I　know　I　can’t　prevent　your　doing；　but　if　you　have　a　spark　of　conscience　…”　Pierre　walked　several　times　up　and　down　the　room。　Anatole　sat　at　the　table；　scowling　and　biting　his　lips。
“You　surely　must　understand　that；　apart　from　your　own　pleasure；　there’s　the　happiness；　the　peace　of　other　people；　that　you　are　ruining　a　whole　life；　simply　because　you　want　to　amuse　yourself。　Amuse　yourself　with　women　like　my　wife—with　them　you’re　within　your　rights；　they　know　what　it　is　you　want　of　them。　They　are　armed　against　you　by　the　same　experience　of　vice；　but　to　promise　a　girl　to　marry　her　…　to　deceive；　to　steal　…　Surely　you　must　see　that　it’s　as　base　as　attacking　an　old　man　or　a　child！…”
Pierre　paused　and　glanced　at　Anatole；　more　with　inquiry　now　than　with　wrath。
“I　don’t　know　about　that。　Eh？”　said　Anatole；　growing　bolder　as　Pierre　gained　control　over　his　rage。　“I　don’t　know　about　that；　and　I　don’t　want　to；”　he　said；　looking　away　from　Pierre；　and　speaking　with　a　slight　quiver　of　his　lower　jaw；　“but　you　have　said　words　to　me；　base　and　all　that　sort　of　thing；　which　as　a　man　of　honour　I　can’t　allow　any　one　to　do。”
Pierre　looked　at　him　in　amazement；　not　able　to　understand　what　it　was　he　wanted。
“Though　it　has　been　only　tête…à…tête；”　Anatole　went　on；　“still　I　can’t　…”
“What；　do　you　want　satisfaction？”　said　Pierre　sarcastically。
“At　any　rate　you　might　take　back　your　words。　Eh？　If　you　want　me　to　do　as　you　wish。　Eh！”
“I’ll　take　them　back；　I’ll　take　them　back；”　said　Pierre；　“and　beg　you　to　forgive　me。”　Pierre　could　not　help　glancing　at　the　loose　button。　“And　here’s　money　too；　if　you　want　some　for　your　journey。”
Anatole　smiled。
The　expression　of　that　base　and　cringing　smile；　that　he　knew　so　well　in　his　wife；　infuriated　Pierre。　“Oh；　you　vile；　heartless　tribe！”　he　cried；　and　walked　out　of　the　room。
Next　day　Anatole　left　for　Petersburg。


Chapter　21
PIERRE　drove　to　Marya　Dmitryevna’s　to　report　to　her　the　execution　of　her　commands；　as　to　Kuragin’s　banishment　from　Moscow。　The　whole　house　was　in　excitement　and　alarm。　Natasha　was　very　ill；　and　as　Marya　Dmitryevna　told　him　in　secret；　she　had　on　the　night　after　she　had　been　told　Anatole　was　married；　taken　arsenic；　which　she　had　procured　by　stealth。　After　swallowing　a　little；　she　had　been　so　frightened　that　she　waked　Sonya；　and　told　her　what　she　had　done。　Antidotes　had　been　given　in　time；　and　now　she　was　out　of　danger；　but　she　was　still　so　weak；　that　they　could　not　dream　of　moving　her　to　the　country；　and　the　countess　had　been　sent　for。　Pierre　saw　the　count　in　great　trouble；　and　Sonya　in　tears；　but　he　could　not　see　Natasha。
That　day　Pierre　dined　at　the　club；　and　heard　on　every　side　gossip　about　the　attempted　abduction　of　the　young　Countess　Rostov；　and　persistently　denied　the　story；　assuring　every　one　that　the　only　foundation　for　it　was　that　his　brother…in…law　had　made　the　young　lady　an　offer　and　had　been　refused。　It　seemed　to　Pierre　that　it　was　part　of　his　duty　to　conceal　the　whole　affair；　and　to　save　the　young　countess’s　reputation。
He　was　looking　forward　with　terror　to　Prince　Andrey’s　return；　and　drove　round　every　day　to　ask　for　news　of　him　from　the　old　prince。
Prince　Nikolay　Andreitch　heard　all　the　rumours　current　in　the　town　through　Mademoiselle　Bourienne；　and　he　had　read　the　note　to　Princess　Marya；　in　which　Natasha　had　broken　off　her　engagement。　He　seemed　in　better　spirits　than　usual；　and　looked　forward　with　impatience　to　seeing　his　son。
A　few　days　after　Anatole’s　departure；　Pierre　received　a　note　from　Prince　Andrey　to　inform　him　that　he　had　arrived；　and　to　beg　him　to　go　and　see　him。
The　first　minute