战争与和平(上)-第203章

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e；　as　Pierre　had　expected　to　see　her）。　When　Pierre　appeared　in　the　doorway；　she　made　a　hurried　movement；　evidently　in　uncertainty　whether　to　go　to　meet　him；　or　to　wait　for　him　to　come　to　her。
Pierre　went　hurriedly　towards　her。　He　thought　she　would　give　him　her　hand　as　usual。　But　coming　near　him　she　stopped；　breathing　hard；　and　letting　her　hands　hang　lifelessly；　exactly　in　the　same　pose　in　which　she　used　to　stand　in　the　middle　of　the　room　to　sing；　but　with　an　utterly　different　expression。
“Pyotr　Kirillitch；”　she　began；　speaking　quickly；　“Prince　Bolkonsky　was　your　friend—he　is　your　friend；”　she　corrected　herself。　（It　seemed　to　her　that　everything　was　in　the　past；　and　now　all　was　changed。）　“He　told　me　to　apply　to　you　…”
Pierre　choked　dumbly　as　he　looked　at　her。　Till　then　he　had　in　his　heart　blamed　her；　and　tried　to　despise　her；　but　now　he　felt　so　sorry　for　her；　that　there　was　no　room　in　his　heart　for　blame。
“He　is　here　now；　tell　him　…　to　for　…　to　forgive　me。”　She　stopped　short　and　breathed　even　more　quickly；　but　she　did　not　weep。
“Yes　…　I　will　tell　him；”　said　Pierre；　“but　…”　He　did　not　know　what　to　say。
Natasha　was　evidently　dismayed　at　the　idea　that　might　have　occurred　to　Pierre。
“No；　I　know　that　everything　is　over；”　she　said　hurriedly。　“No；　that　can　never　be。　I’m　only　wretched　at　the　wrong　I　have　done　him。　Only　tell　him　that　I　beg　him　to　forgive；　to　forgive；　forgive　me　for　everything　…”　Her　whole　body　was　heaving；　she　sat　down　on　a　chair。
A　feeling　of　pity　he　had　never　known　before　flooded　Pierre’s　heart。
“I　will　tell　him；　I　will　tell　him　everything　once　more；”　said　Pierre；　“but　…　I　should　like　to　know　one　thing…”
“To　know　what？”　Natasha’s　eyes　asked。
“I　should　like　to　know；　did　you　love　…”　Pierre　did　not　know　what　to　call　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；　I　don’t　know　…”　She　began　crying　again；　and　Pierre　was　more　than　ever　overwhelmed　with　pity；　tenderness；　and　love。　He　felt　the　tears　trickling　under　his　spectacles；　and　hoped　they　would　not　be　noticed。
“We　won’t　talk　any　more　of　it；　my　dear；”　he　said。　It　seemed　suddenly　so　strange　to　Natasha　to　hear　the　gentle；　tender；　sympathetic　voice　in　which　he　spoke。　“We　won’t　talk　of　it；　my　dear；　I’ll　tell　him　everything。　But　one　thing　I　beg　you；　look　on　me　as　your　friend；　and　if　you　want　help；　advice；　or　simply　want　to　open　your　heart　to　some　one—not　now；　but　when　things　are　clearer　in　your　heart—think　of　me。”　He　took　her　hand　and　kissed　it。　“I　shall　be　happy；　if　I　am　able　…”　Pierre　was　confused。
“Don’t　speak　to　me　like　that；　I’m　not　worth　it！”　cried　Natasha；　and　she　would　have　left　the　room；　but　Pierre　held　her　hand。　He　knew　there　was　something　more　he　must　say　to　her。　But　when　he　said　it；　he　was　surprised　at　his　own　words。
“Hush；　hush；　your　whole　life　lies　before　you；”　he　said　to　her。
“Before　me！　No！　All　is　over　for　me；”　she　said；　with　shame　and　self…humiliation。
“All　over？”　he　repeated。　“If　I　were　not　myself；　but　the　handsomest；　cleverest；　best　man　in　the　world；　and　if　I　were　free　I　would　be　on　my　knees　this　minute　to　beg　for　your　hand　and　your　love。”
For　the　first　time　for　many　days　Natasha　wept　with　tears　of　gratitude　and　softened　feeling；　and　glancing　at　Pierre；　she　went　out　of　the　room。
Pierre　followed　her；　almost　running　into　the　vestibule；　and　restraining　the　tears　of　tenderness　and　happiness　that　made　a　lump　in　his　throat。　He　flung　on　his　fur　coat；　unable　to　find　the　armholes；　and　got　into　his　sledge。
“Now　where；　your　excellency？”　asked　the　coachman。
“Where？”　Pierre　asked　himself。　“Where　can　I　go　now？　Not　to　the　club　or　to　pay　calls。”　All　men　seemed　to　him　so　pitiful；　so　poor　in　comparison　with　the　feeling　of　tenderness　and　love　in　his　heart；　in　comparison　with　that　softened；　grateful　glance　she　had　turned　upon　him　that　last　minute　through　her　tears。
“Home；”　said　Pierre；　throwing　open　the　bearskin　coat　over　his　broad；　joyously　breathing　chest　in　spite　of　ten　degrees　of　frost。
It　was　clear　and　frosty。　Over　the　dirty；　half…dark　streets；　over　the　black　roofs　was　a　dark；　starlit　sky。　It　was　only　looking　at　the　sky　that　Pierre　forgot　the　mortifying　meanness　of　all　things　earthly　in　comparison　with　the　height　his　soul　had　risen　to。　As　he　drove　into　Arbatsky　Square；　the　immense　expanse　of　dark；　starlit　sky　lay　open　before　Pierre’s　eyes。　Almost　in　the　centre　of　it　above　the　Prechistensky　Boulevard；　surrounded　on　all　sides　by　stars；　but　distinguished　from　all　by　its　nearness　to　the　earth；　its　white　light　and　long；　upturned　tail；　shone　the　huge；　brilliant　comet　of　1812；　the　comet　which　betokened；　it　was　said；　all　manner　of　horrors　and　the　end　of　the　world。　But　in　Pierre’s　heart　that　bright　comet；　with　its　long；　luminous　tail；　aroused　no　feeling　of　dread。　On　the　contrary；　his　eyes　wet　with　tears；　Pierre　looked　joyously　at　this　bright　comet；　which　seemed　as　though　after　flying　with　inconceivable　swiftness　through　infinite　space　in　a　parabola；　it　had　suddenly；　like　an　arrow　piercing　the　earth；　stuck　fast　at　one　chosen　spot　in　the　black　sky；　and　stayed　there；　vigorously　tossing　up　its　tail；　shining　and　playing　with　its　white　light　among　the　countless　other　twinkling　stars。　It　seemed　to　Pierre　that　it　was　in　full　harmony　with　what　was　in　his　softened　and　emboldened　heart；　that　had　gained　vigour　to　blossom　into　a　new　life。


Part　Nine
Chapter　1
TOWARDS　THE　END　of　the　year　1811；　there　began　to　be　greater　activity　in　levying　troops　and　in　concentrating　the　forces　of　Western　Europe；　and　in　1812　these　forces—millions　of　men；　reckoning　those　engaged　in　the　transport　and　feeding　of　the　army—　moved　from　the　west　eastward；　towards　the　frontiers　of　Russia；　where；　since　1811；　the　Russian　forces　were　being　in　like　manner　concentrated。
On　the　12th　of　June　the　forces　of　Western　Europe　crossed　the　frontier；　and　the　war　began；　that　is；　an　event　took　place　opposed　to　human　reason　and　all　human　nature。　Millions　of　men　perpetrated　against　one　another　so　great　a　mass　of　crime—fraud；　swindling；　robbery；　forgery；　issue　of　counterfeit　money；　plunder；　incendiarism；　and　murder—that　the　annals　of　all　the　criminal　courts　of　the　world　could　not　muster　such　a　sum　of　wickedness　in　whole　centuries；　though　the　men　who　committed　those　deeds　did　not　at　that　time　look　on　them　as　crimes。
What　led　to　this　extraordinary　event？　What　were　its　causes？　Historians；　with　simple…hearted　conviction；　tell　us　that　the　causes　of　this　event　were　the　insult　offered　to　the　Duke　of　Oldenburg；　the　failure　to　maintain　the　continental　system；　the　ambition　of　Napoleon；　the　firmness　of　Alexander；　the　mistakes　of　the　diplomatists；　and　so　on。
According　to　them；　if　only　Metternich；　Rumyantsev；　or　Talleyrand　had；　in　the　interval　between　a　levée　and　a　court　ball；　really　taken　pains　and　written　a　more　judicious　diplomatic　note；　or　if　only　Napoleon　had　written　to　Alexander；　“I　consent　to　restore　the　duchy　to　the　Duke　of　Oldenburg；”　there　would　have　been　no　war。
We　can　readily　understand　that　being　the　conception　of　the　war　that　presented　itself　to　contemporaries。　We　can　understand　Napoleon’s　supposing　the　cause　of　the　war　to　be　the　intrigues　of　England　（as　he　said；　indeed；　in　St。　Helena）；　we　can　understand　how　to　the　members　of　the　English　House　of　Commons　the　cause　of　the　war　seemed　to　be　Napoleon’s　ambition；　how　to　the　Duke　of　Oldenburg　the　war　seemed　due　to　the　outrage　done　him；　how　to　the　trading　class　the　war　seemed　due　to　the　continental　system　that　was　ruining　Europe；　to　the　old　soldiers　and　generals　the　chief　reason　for　it　seemed　their　need　of　active　service；　to　the　regiments　of　the　period；　the　necessity　of　re…establishing　les　bons　principes；　while　the　diplomatists　of　the　time　set　it　down　to　the　alliance　of　Russia　with　Austria　in　1809　not　having　been　with　sufficient　care　concealed　from　Napoleon；　and　the　memorandum；　No。　178；　having　been　awkwardly　worded。　We　may　well　understand　contemporaries　believing　in　those　causes；　and　in　a　countless；　endless　number　more；　the　multiplicity　of　which　is　due　to　the　infinite　variety　of　men’s　points　of　view。　But　to　us　of　a　later　generation；　contemplating　in　all　its　vastness　the　immensity　of　the　accomplished　f