战争与和平(上)-第223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！


；　careless　life；　that　had　been　so　full　of　hope。　Most　often；　and　with　most　pining；　she　brooded　over　the　memory　of　those　autumn　months；　the　hunting；　the　old　uncle；　and　the　Christmas　holidays　spent　with　Nikolay　at　Otradnoe。　What　would　she　not　have　given　to　bring　back　one　single　day　of　that　time！　But　it　was　all　over　for　her。　Her　presentiment　at　the　time　had　not　deceived　her；　that　such　a　time　of　freedom　and　readiness　for　every　enjoyment　would　never　come　again。　But　yet　she　had　to　live。
It　comforted　her　to　think；　not　that　she　was　better；　as　she　had　once　fancied；　but　worse；　far　worse　than　any　one；　than　any　one　in　the　whole　world。　But　that　meant　little　to　her。　She　believed　it；　but　then　she　asked：　“And　what　next？”　And　there　was　nothing　to　come。　There　was　no　gladness　in　life；　but　life　was　passing。　All　Natasha　tried　after　was　plainly　to　be　no　burden　to　others；　and　not　to　hinder　other　people’s　enjoyment；　but　for　herself　she　wanted　nothing。　She　held　aloof　from　all　the　household。　It　was　only　with　her　brother；　Petya；　that　she　felt　at　ease。　She　liked　being　with　him　better　than　being　with　the　rest；　and　sometimes　even　laughed　when　she　was　alone　with　him。　She　hardly　left　the　house　to　go　anywhere；　and　of　the　guests　who　came　to　the　house　she　was　only　glad　to　see　one　person—Pierre。　No　one　could　have　been　more　tender；　circumspect；　and　at　the　same　time　serious；　than　Count　Bezuhov　in　his　manner　to　her。　Natasha　was　unconsciously　aware　of　this　tenderness；　and　it　was　owing　to　it　that　she　found　more　pleasure　in　his　society。　But　she　was　not　even　grateful　to　him　for　it。　Nothing　good　in　him　seemed　to　her　due　to　an　effort　on　Pierre’s　part。　It　seemed　so　natural　to　Pierre　to　be　kind　that　there　was　no　merit　in　his　kindness。　Sometimes　Natasha　noticed　some　confusion　or　awkwardness　in　Pierre　in　her　presence；　especially　when　he　was　trying　to　do　something　for　her　pleasure　or　afraid　something　in　the　conversation　might　suggest　to　her　painful　reminiscences。　She　observed　this；　and　put　it　down　to　his　general　kindliness　and　shyness；　which　she　supposed　would　be　the　same　with　every　one　else。　Ever　since　those　unforeseen　words—that　if　he　had　been　free；　he　would　have　asked　on　his　knees　for　her　hand　and　her　love—uttered　in　a　moment　full　of　violent　emotion　for　her；　Pierre　had　said　nothing　of　his　feelings　to　Natasha；　and　it　seemed　to　her　clear　that　those　words；　which　had　so　comforted　her；　had　been　uttered；　just　as　one　says　any　meaningless　nonsense　to　console　a　weeping　child。　It　was　not　because　Pierre　was　a　married　man；　but　because　Natasha　felt　between　herself　and　him　the　force　of　that　moral　barrier—of　the　absence　of　which　she　had　been　so　conscious　with　Kuragin—that　the　idea　never　occurred　to　her　that　her　relations　with　Pierre　might　develop　into　love　on　her　side；　and　still　less　on　his；　or　even　into　that　tender；　self…conscious；　romantic　friendship　between　a　man　and　a　woman；　of　which　she　had　known　several　instances。
Towards　the　end　of　St。　Peter’s　fast；　Agrafena　Ivanovna　Byelov；　a　country　neighbour　of　the　Rostovs；　came　to　Moscow　to　pay　her　devotions　to　the　saints　there。　She　suggested　to　Natasha　that　she　should　prepare　herself　for　the　Sacrament；　and　Natasha　caught　eagerly　at　the　suggestion。　Although　the　doctors　forbade　her　going　out　early　in　the　morning；　Natasha　insisted　on　keeping　the　fast；　and　not　simply　as　it　was　kept　in　the　Rostovs’　household；　by　taking　part　in　three　services　in　the　house；　but　keeping　it　as　Agrafena　Ivanova　was　doing；　that　is　to　say；　for　a　whole　week；　not　missing　a　single　early　morning　service；　or　litany；　or　vesper。
The　countess　was　pleased　at　these　signs　of　religious　fervour　in　Natasha。　After　the　poor　results　of　medical　treatment；　at　the　bottom　of　her　heart　she　hoped　that　prayer　would　do　more　for　her　than　medicine；　and　though　she　concealed　it　from　the　doctors　and　had　some　inward　misgivings；　she　fell　in　with　Natasha’s　wishes；　and　intrusted　her　to　Madame　Byelov。
Agrafena　Ivanovna　went　in　to　wake　Natasha　at　three　o’clock　in　the　night；　and　frequently　found　her　not　asleep。　Natasha　was　afraid　of　sleeping　too　late　for　the　early　morning　service。　Hurriedly　washing；　and　in　all　humility　putting　on　her　shabbiest　dress　and　old　mantle；　Natasha；　shuddering　at　the　chill　air；　went　out　into　the　deserted　streets；　in　the　limpid　light　of　the　early　dawn。　By　the　advice　of　Agrafena　Ivanovna；　Natasha　did　not　attend　the　services　of　her　own　parish　church；　but　went　to　a　church　where　the　priest　was　esteemed　by　the　devout　Madame　Byelov　as　being　of　a　particularly　severe　and　exemplary　life。　There　were　few　people　in　the　church。　Natasha　and　Madame　Byelov　always　took　the　same　seat　before　an　image　of　the　Mother　of　God；　carved　at　the　back　of　the　left　choir；　and　a　new　feeling　of　humility　before　the　great　mystery　came　over　Natasha；　as　at　that　unusual　hour　in　the　morning　she　gazed　at　the　black　outline　of　the　Mother　of　God；　with　the　light　of　the　candles　burning　in　front　of　it；　and　the　morning　light　falling　on　it　from　the　window。　She　listened　to　the　words　of　the　service；　and　tried　to　follow　and　understand　them。　When　she　did　understand　them；　all　the　shades　of　her　personal　feeling　blended　with　her　prayer；　when　she　did　not　understand；　it　was　still　sweeter　for　her　to　think　that　the　desire　to　understand　all　was　pride；　that　she　could　not　comprehend　all；　that　she　had　but　to　believe　and　give　herself　up　to　God；　Who　was；　she　felt；　at　those　moments　guiding　her　soul。　She　crossed　herself；　bowed　to　the　ground；　and　when　she　did　not　follow；　simply　prayed　to　God　to　forgive　her　everything；　everything；　and　to　have　mercy　on　her；　in　horror　at　her　own　vileness。　The　prayer　into　which　she　threw　herself　heart　and　soul　was　the　prayer　of　repentance。　On　the　way　home　in　the　early　morning；　when　they　met　no　one　but　masons　going　to　their　work；　or　porters　cleaning　the　streets；　and　every　one　was　asleep　in　the　houses；　Natasha　had　a　new　sense　of　the　possibility　of　correcting　herself　of　her　sins　and　leading　a　new　life　of　purity　and　happiness。
During　the　week　she　spent　in　this　way；　that　feeling　grew　stronger　with　every　day。　And　the　joy　of　“communication；”　as　Agrafena　Ivanovna　liked　to　call　taking　the　Communion；　seemed　to　her　so　great　that　she　fancied　she　could　not　live　till　that　blissful　Sunday。
But　the　happy　day　did　come。　And　when　on　that　memorable　Sunday　Natasha　returned　from　the　Sacrament　wearing　a　white　muslin　dress；　for　the　first　time　for　many　months　she　felt　at　peace；　and　not　oppressed　by　the　life　that　lay　before　her。
The　doctor　came　that　day　to　see　Natasha；　and　gave　directions　for　the　powders　to　be　continued　that　he　had　begun　prescribing　a　fortnight　ago。　“She　must　certainly　go　on　taking　them　morning　and　evening；”　he　said；　with　visible　and　simple…hearted　satisfaction　at　the　success　of　his　treatment。　“Please；　don’t　forget　them。　You　may　set　your　mind　at　rest；　countess；”　the　doctor　said　playfully；　as　he　deftly　received　the　gold　in　the　hollow　of　his　palm。　“She　will　soon　be　singing　and　dancing　again。　The　last　medicine　has　done　her　great；　great　good。　She　is　very　much　better。”
The　countess　looked　at　her　finger…nails　and　spat；　to　avert　the　ill…omen　of　such　words；　as　with　a　cheerful　face　she　went　back　to　the　drawing…room。


Chapter　18
AT　THE　BEGINNING　of　July　the　rumours　as　to　the　progress　of　the　war　current　in　Moscow　became　more　and　more　alarming；　and　there　was　talk　of　the　Tsar’s　appeal　to　the　people；　and　the　Tsar　himself　was　said　to　be　coming　from　the　army　to　Moscow。　And　as　up　to　the　11th　of　July　the　manifesto　and　appeal　to　the　people　had　not　been　received；　the　most　exaggerated　reports　about　them　and　the　position　of　Russia　were　common。　It　was　said　that　the　Tsar　was　coming　away　because　the　army　was　in　danger；　it　was　said　that　Smolensk　had　surrendered；　that　Napoleon　had　millions　of　troops；　and　that　nothing　short　of　a　miracle　could　save　Russia。
On　Saturday；　the　11th　of　July；　the　manifesto　was　received；　but　was　not　yet　in　print；　and　Pierre；　who　happened　to　be　at　the　Rostovs’；　promised　to　come　next　day；　Sunday；　to　dinner；　and　to　bring　the　manifesto；　which　he　could　obtain　from　Count　Rastoptchin。
That　Sunday　the　Rostovs　attended　service　as　usual　in　the　private　chapel　of　the　Razumovskys。　It　was　a　hot　July　day。　Even　by　ten　o’clock；　when　the　Rostovs　got　out　of　their　carriage　before　the　chapel；　the　sultry　air；　the　shouts　of