战争与和平(上)-第202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！


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　of　Prince　Andrey’s　arrival　in　Moscow；　he　was　handed　by　his　father　Natasha’s　note　to　Princess　Marya；　in　which　she　broke　off　her　engagement　（the　note　had　been　stolen　from　Princess　Marya；　and　given　to　the　old　prince　by　Mademoiselle　Bourienne）。　He　heard　from　his　father’s　lips　the　story　of　Natasha’s　elopement；　with　additions。
Prince　Andrey　had　arrived　in　the　evening；　Pierre　came　to　see　him　the　following　morning。　Pierre　had　expected　to　find　Prince　Andrey　almost　in　the　same　state　as　Natasha；　and　he　was　therefore　surprised　when　as　he　entered　the　drawing…room　he　heard　the　sound　of　Prince　Andrey’s　voice　in　the　study；　loudly　and　eagerly　discussing　some　Petersburg　intrigue。　The　old　prince　and　some　other　voice　interrupted　him　from　time　to　time。　Princess　Marya　came　out　to　meet　Pierre。　She　sighed；　turning　her　eyes　towards　the　door　of　the　room；　where　Prince　Andrey　was；　plainly　intending　to　express　her　sympathy　with　his　sorrow；　but　Pierre　saw　by　Princess　Marya’s　face　that　she　was　glad　both　at　what　had　happened　and　at　the　way　her　brother　had　taken　the　news　of　his　fiancée’s　treachery。
“He　said　he　had　expected　it；”　she　said。　“I　know　his　pride　will　not　allow　him　to　express　his　feelings；　but　anyway；　he　has　borne　it　better；　far　better；　than　I　had　expected。　It　seems　it　was　to　be　so　…”
“But　is　it　all　really　at　an　end？”　said　Pierre。
Princess　Marya　looked　at　him　with　surprise。　She　could　not　understand　how　one　could　ask　such　a　question。　Pierre　went　into　the　study。　Prince　Andrey　was　very　much　changed；　and　visibly　much　more　robust；　but　there　was　a　new　horizontal　line　between　his　brows。　He　was　in　civilian　dress；　and　standing　facing　his　father　and　Prince　Meshtchersky；　he　was　hotly　arguing；　making　vigorous　gesticulations。
The　subject　was　Speransky；　of　whose　sudden　dismissal　and　supposed　treason　news　had　just　reached　Moscow。
“Now　he”　（Speransky）　“will　be　criticised　and　condemned　by　all　who　were　enthusiastic　about　him　a　month　ago；”　Prince　Andrey　was　saying；　“and　were　incapable　of　understanding　his　aims。　It’s　very　easy　to　condemn　a　man　when　he’s　out　of　favour；　and　to　throw　upon　him　the　blame　of　all　the　mistakes　of　other　people。　But　I　maintain　that　if　anything　of　value　has　been　done　in　the　present　reign；　it　has　been　done　by　him—by　him　alone　…”　He　stopped；　seeing　Pierre。　His　face　quivered；　and　at　once　assumed　a　vindictive　expression。　“And　posterity　will　do　him　justice；”　he　finished；　and　at　once　turned　to　Pierre。　“Well；　how　are　you；　still　getting　stouter？”　he　said　eagerly；　but　the　new　line　was　still　more　deeply　furrowed　on　his　forehead。　“Yes；　I’m　very　well；”　he　answered　to　Pierre’s　question；　and　he　smiled。　It　was　clear　to　Pierre　that　his　smile　meant；　“I　am　well；　but　my　health　is　of　no　use　to　any　one　now。”
After　saying　a　few　words　to　Pierre　of　the　awful　road　from　the　frontiers　of　Poland；　of　people　he　had　met　in　Switzerland　who　knew　Pierre；　and　of　M。　Dessalle；　whom　he　had　brought　back　from　Switzerland　as　a　tutor　for　his　son；　Prince　Andrey　warmly　took　part　again　in　the　conversation　about　Speransky；　which　had　been　kept　up　between　the　two　old　gentlemen。
“If　there　had　been　treason；　and　there　were　proofs　of　his　secret　relations　with　Napoleon；　they　would　have　made　them　public；”　he　said；　with　heat　and　haste。　“I　don’t　and　I　didn’t　like　Speransky　personally；　but　I　do　like　justice。”
Pierre　recognized　now　in　his　friend　that　desire　he　knew　only　too　well；　for　excitement　and　discussion　of　something　apart　from　himself；　simply　in　order　to　stifle　thoughts　that　were　too　painful　and　too　near　his　heart。
When　Prince　Meshtchersky　had　gone；　Prince　Andrey　took　Pierre’s　arm；　and　asked　him　to　come　to　the　room　that　had　been　assigned　him。　In　that　room　there　was　a　folding　bedstead　and　open　trunks　and　boxes。　Prince　Andrey　went　up　to　one　of　them　and　took　out　a　case。　Out　of　the　case　he　took　a　packet　of　letters。　He　did　all　this　in　silence；　and　very　rapidly。　He　stood　up　again　and　cleared　his　throat。　His　face　was　frowning；　and　his　lips　set。
“Forgive　me；　if　I’m　troubling　you　…”　Pierre　saw　that　Prince　Andrey　was　going　to　speak　of　Natasha；　and　his　broad　face　showed　sympathy　and　pity。　That　expression　in　Pierre’s　face　exasperated　Prince　Andrey。　He　went　on　resolutely；　clearly；　and　disagreeably：　“I　have　received　a　refusal　from　Countess　Rostov；　and　rumours　have　reached　me　of　your　brother…in…law’s　seeking　her　hand；　or　something　of　the　kind。　Is　that　true？”
“Both　true　and　untrue；”　began　Pierre；　but　Prince　Andrey　cut　him　short。
“Here　are　her　letters　and　her　portrait；”　he　said。　He　took　the　packet　from　the　table　and　gave　it　to　Pierre。
“Give　that　to　the　countess　…　if　you　will　see　her。”
“She　is　very　ill；”　said　Pierre。
“So　she’s　still　here？”　said　Prince　Andrey。　“And　Prince　Kuragin？”　he　asked　quickly。
“He　has　been　gone　a　long　while。　She　has　been　at　death’s　door。”
“I　am　very　sorry　to　hear　of　her　illness；”　said　Prince　Andrey。　He　laughed　a　cold；　malignant；　unpleasant　laugh　like　his　father’s。
“But　M。　Kuragin；　then；　did　not　deign　to　bestow　his　hand　on　Countess　Rostov？”　said　Prince　Andrey。　He　snorted　several　times。
“He　could　not　have　married　her；　because　he　is　married；”　said　Pierre。
Prince　Andrey　laughed　unpleasantly；　again　recalling　his　father。
“And　where　is　he　now；　your　brother…in…law；　may　I　ask？”　he　said。
“He　went　to　Peter　…　but；　really；　I　don’t　know；”　said　Pierre。
“Well；　that’s　no　matter；”　said　Prince　Andrey。　“Tell　Countess　Rostov　from　me　that　she　was　and　is　perfectly　free；　and　that　I　wish　her　all　prosperity。”
Pierre　took　the　packet。　Prince　Andrey；　as　though　reflecting　whether　he　had　not　something　more　to　say；　or　waiting　for　Pierre　to　say　something；　looked　at　him　with　a　fixed　gaze。
“Listen。　Do　you　remember　our　discussion　in　Petersburg？”　said　Pierre。　“Do　you　remember　about—？”
“I　remember；”　Prince　Andrey　answered　hurriedly。　“I　said　that　a　fallen　woman　should　be　forgiven；　but　I　did　not　say　I　could　forgive　one。　I　can’t。”
“How　can　you　compare　it？　…”　said　Pierre。
Prince　Andrey　cut　him　short。　He　cried　harshly：　“Yes；　ask　her　hand　again；　be　magnanimous；　and　all　that　sort　of　thing？　…　Oh；　that’s　all　very　noble；　but　I’m　not　equal　to　following　in　that　gentleman’s　tracks。　If　you　care　to　remain　my　friend；　never　speak　to　me　of　that　…　of　all　this　business。　Well；　good…bye。　So　you’ll　give　that？　…”
Pierre　left　him；　and　went　in　to　the　old　prince　and　Princess　Marya。
The　old　man　seemed　livelier　than　usual。　Princess　Marya　was　the　same　as　usual；　but　behind　her　sympathy　for　her　brother；　Pierre　detected　her　relief　that　her　brother’s　marriage　was　broken　off。　Looking　at　them；　Pierre　felt　what　a　contempt　and　dislike　they　all　had　for　the　Rostovs；　felt　that　it　would　be　impossible　in　their　presence　even　to　mention　the　name　of　the　girl　who　could　give　up　Prince　Andrey　for　any　one　in　the　world。
At　dinner　they　talked　of　the　coming　war；　of　which　there　could　now　be　no　doubt　in　the　near　future。　Prince　Andrey　talked　incessantly；　and　argued　first　with　his　father；　and　then　with　Dessalle；　the　Swiss　tutor。　He　seemed　more　eager　than　usual；　with　that　eagerness　of　which　Pierre　knew　so　well　the　inner　cause。


Chapter　22
THAT　EVENING　Pierre　went　to　the　Rostovs’　to　fulfil　Prince　Andrey’s　commission。　Natasha　was　in　bed；　the　count　was　at　the　club；　and　Pierre；　after　giving　the　letters　to　Sonya；　went　in　to　see　Marya　Dmitryevna；　who　was　interested　to　know　how　Prince　Andrey　had　taken　the　news。　Ten　minutes　later；　Sonya　came　in　to　Marya　Dmitryevna。
“Natasha　insists　on　seeing　Count　Pyotr　Kirillitch；”　she　said。
“Why；　are　we　to　take　him　up　to　her；　eh？　Why；　you　are　all　in　a　muddle　there；”　said　Marya　Dmitryevna。
“No；　she　has　dressed　and　gone　into　the　drawing…room；”　said　Sonya。
Marya　Dmitryevna　could　only　shrug　her　shoulders。　“When　will　the　countess　come？　She　has　quite　worn　me　out！　You　mind　now；　don’t　tell　her　everything；”　she　said　to　Pierre。　“One　hasn’t　the　heart　to　scold　her；　she’s　so　piteous；　poor　thing。”
Natasha　was　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　drawing…room；　looking　thinner；　and　with　a　pale；　set　face　（not　at　all　overcome　with　shame；　as　Pierre　had　expected　to　see