战争与和平(上)-第228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！


t　out　of　the　house　by　the　back　way；　trying　to　escape　observation。　Petya　had　resolved　to　go　straight　to　where　the　Tsar　was；　and　to　explain　frankly　to　some　gentleman…in…waiting　（Petya　fancied　that　the　Tsar　was　always　surrounded　by　gentlemen…in…waiting）　that　he；　Count　Rostov；　wished；　in　spite　of　his　youth；　to　serve　his　country；　that　youth　could　be　no　hindrance　to　devotion；　and　that　he　was　ready…Petya　had；　while　he　was　dressing；　prepared　a　great　many　fine　speeches　to　make　to　the　gentleman…in…waiting。
Petya　reckoned　on　the　success　of　his　presentation　to　the　Tsar　simply　because　he　was　a　child　（Petya　dreamed；　indeed；　of　how　they　would　wonder　at　his　youth）；　and　yet　in　his　arrangement　of　his　collar；　and　his　hair；　and　in　the　sedate；　deliberate　walk　he　adopted；　he　tried　to　act　the　part　of　an　elderly　man。　But　the　further　he　went；　the　more　interested　he　became　in　the　growing　crowds　about　the　Kremlin；　and　he　forgot　to　keep　up　the　sedateness　and　deliberation　characteristic　of　grown…up　people。　As　he　got　closer　to　the　Kremlin；　he　began　to　try　to　avoid　being　crushed；　and　with　a　resolute　and　threatening　mien；　stuck　elbows　out　on　each　side　of　him。　But　in　spite　of　his　determined　air；　in　the　Toistsky　Gate　the　crowd；　probably　unaware　of　his　patriotic　object　in　going　to　the　Kremlin；　so　pushed　him　against　the　wall；　that　he　was　obliged　to　submit　and　stand　still；　while　carriages　drove　in　with　a　rumbling　sound　under　the　archway。　Near　Petya　stood　a　peasant　woman；　a　footman；　two　merchants；　and　a　discharged　soldier。　After　standing　for　some　time　in　the　gateway；　Petya；　not　caring　to　wait　for　all　the　carriages　to　pass；　tried　to　push　on　before　the　rest；　and　began　resolutely　working　away　with　his　elbows；　but　the　peasant　woman　standing　next　him；　who　was　the　first　person　he　poked；　shouted　angrily　to　him：
“Why　are　you　shoving　away；　little　master？　You　see　everybody’s　standing　still。　What　do　you　want　to　push　for？”
“What；　if　every　one　were　to　push　then！”　said　the　footman；　and　he　too　setting　to　work　with　his　elbows　shoved　Petya　into　the　stinking　corner　of　the　gateway。
Petya　rubbed　the　sweat　off　his　face　with　his　hands；　and　set　straight　the　soaking　collar；　that　he　had　so　carefully　arranged　at　home　like　a　grown…up　person’s。
Petya　felt　that　he　looked　unpresentable；　and　was　afraid　that　if　he　showed　himself　in　this　guise　to　the　gentlemen…in…waiting；　they　would　not　admit　him　to　the　Tsar’s　presence。　But　the　crush　gave　him　no　possibility　of　setting　himself　straight　or　getting　into　another　place。　One　of　the　generals　who　rode　by　was　an　acquaintance　of　the　Rostovs。　Petya　wanted　to　ask　him　for　help；　but　considered　this　would　be　below　his　manly　dignity。　When　all　the　carriages　had　driven　by；　the　crowd　made　a　rush；　and　swept　Petya　along　with　it　into　the　square；　which　was　already　full　of　people。　Not　only　in　the　square；　but　on　the　slopes；　and　the　roofs；　and　everywhere　there　were　crowds　of　people。　As　soon　as　Petya　got　into　the　square；　he　heard　the　ringing　of　bells　and　the　joyous　hum　of　the　crowd　filling　the　whole　Kremlin。
For　a　while　the　crush　was　less　in　the　square；　but　all　at　once　all　heads　were　bared；　and　there　was　another　rush　forward。　Petya　was　so　crushed　that　he　could　hardly　breathe；　and　there　was　a　continual　shouting：　“Hurrah！　hurrah！　hurrah！”
Petya　tip…toed；　pushed；　and　pinched；　but　he　could　see　nothing　but　the　crowd　around　him。
All　the　faces　wore　the　same　expression　of　excitement　and　enthusiasm。　A　shopkeeper’s　wife　standing　near　Petya　sobbed；　and　tears　flowed　down　her　cheeks。
“Father；　angel！”　she　kept　saying；　wiping　her　tears　with　her　fingers。
“Hurrah！”　shouted　the　crowd　on　all　sides。
For　a　minute　the　crowd　remained　stationary；　then　there　was　another　rush　forward。
Petya；　beside　himself　with　excitement；　clenched　his　teeth；　and　rolling　his　eyes　savagely；　rushed　forward；　elbowing　his　way　and　shouting　“Hurrah！”　as　though　he　were　prepared　to　kill　himself　and　every　one　else　at　that　moment；　but　just　as　savage　faces　pushed　on　each　side　of　him　with　the　same　shouts　of　“hurrah！”
“So　this　is　the　Tsar！”　thought　Petya。　“No；　I　could　never　give　him　the　petition　myself；　it　would　be　too　bold！”
In　spite　of　that；　he　still　forced　his　way　forward　as　desperately；　and　over　the　backs　of　those　in　front　of　him　caught　a　glimpse　of　open　space　with　a　passage　covered　with　red　cloth　in　the　midst　of　it。　But　at　that　moment　the　crowd　began　heaving　back；　the　police　in　front　were　forcing　back　those　who　had　pressed　too　close　to　the　procession。　The　Tsar　was　passing　from　the　palace　to　the　Uspensky　Sobor。　Petya　received　such　a　sudden　blow　in　the　ribs；　and　was　so　squeezed；　that　all　at　once　a　mist　passed　before　his　eyes；　and　he　lost　consciousness。　When　he　came　to　himself；　a　clerical　personage；　with　a　mane　of　grey　hair　on　his　shoulders；　in　a　shabby　blue　cassock—probably　a　deacon—was　holding　him　up　with　one　arm；　while　with　the　other　he　kept　off　the　crowd。
“A　young　gentleman’s　been　crushed！”　the　deacon　was　saying；　“Mind　what　you’re　about！…easy　there！…you’re　crushing　him；　you’re　crushing　him！”
The　Tsar　had　entered　the　Uspensky　Sobor。　The　crowd　spread　out　again；　and　the　deacon　got　Petya　pale　and　breathless　on　to　the　big　cannon。　Several　persons　pitied　Petya；　and　suddenly　quite　a　crowd　noticed　his　plight；　and　began　to　press　round　him。　Those　who　were　standing　near　him　looked　after　him；　unbuttoned　his　coat；　sat　him　on　the　highest　part　of　the　cannon；　and　scolded　those　who　were　squeezing　too　close　to　him。
“Any　one　may　be　crushed　to　death　like　that。　What　next！　Killing　people！　Why；　the　poor　dear’s　as　white　as　a　sheet；”　said　voices。
Petya　soon　recovered；　and　the　colour　came　back　into　his　face；　the　pain　was　over；　and　by　this　temporary　inconvenience　he　had　gained　a　seat　on　the　cannon；　from　which　he　hoped　to　see　the　Tsar；　who　was　to　walk　back。　Petya　thought　no　more　now　of　presenting　his　petition。　If　only　he　could　see　him；　he　would　think　himself　lucky！　During　the　service　in　the　Uspensky　Sobor；　in　celebration　of　the　Tsar’s　arrival；　and　also　in　thanks…giving　for　the　peace　with　the　Turks；　the　crowd　dispersed　about　the　square；　and　hawkers　appeared　crying　kvass；　gingerbread；　and　poppy…seed　sweets—of　which　Petya　was　particularly　fond—and　he　could　hear　the　usual　talk　among　the　people。　One　shopkeeper’s　wife　was　showing　her　torn　shawl；　and　saying　how　much　she　had　paid　for　it；　while　another　observed　that　all　silk　things　were　very　dear　nowadays。　The　deacon　who　had　rescued　Petya　was　talking　to　a　clerk　of　the　different　priests　who　were　taking　part　in　the　service　to…day　with　the　most　reverend　bishop。　The　deacon　several　times　repeated　the　word　“soborne；”　which　Petya　did　not　understand。　Two　young　artisans　were　joking　with　some　servant…girls；　cracking　nuts。　All　these　conversations；　especially　the　jokes　with　the　servant…girls—which　would　have　seemed　particularly　attractive　at　his　age　to　Petya—did　not　interest　him　now。　He　sat　on　his　high　perch　on　the　cannon；　still　in　the　same　excitement　at　the　thought　of　the　Tsar　and　his　love　for　him。　The　blending　of　the　feeling　of　pain　and　fright　when　he　was　crushed　with　the　feeling　of　enthusiasm　intensified　his　sense　of　the　gravity　of　the　occasion。
Suddenly　cannon　shots　were　heard　from　the　embankment—the　firing　was　in　celebration　of　the　peace　with　the　Turks—and　the　crowd　made　a　dash　for　the　embankment　to　see　the　firing。　Petya；　too；　would　have　liked　to　run　there；　but　the　deacon；　who　had　taken　the　young　gentleman　under　his　protection；　would　not　let　him。　The　firing　still　continued；　when　officers；　generals；　and　gentlemen…in…waiting　came　running　out　of　the　Uspensky　Sobor。　Then　others　came　out　with　less　haste；　and　again　caps　were　lifted；　and　those　who　had　run　to　look　at　the　cannons　ran　back。　At　last　four　men　in　uniforms　and　decorations　came　out　from　the　doors　of　the　Sobor。　“Hurrah！　hurrah！”　the　crowd　shouted　again。
“Which？　which　one？”　Petya　asked　in　a　weeping　voice　of　those　around　him；　but　no　one　answered　him。　Every　one　was　too　much　excited；　and　Petya；　picking　out　one　of　the　four；　and　hardly　able　to　see　him　for　the　tears　that　started　into　his　eyes；　concentrated　all　his　enthusiasm　on　him；　though　it　happened　not　to　be　the　Tsar。　He　shouted　“Hurrah！”　in　a　voice　of　frenzy；　and　resolved　that　to…morrow；　come　what　might　of　it；　he　would　join　the　army。　The　crowd　ran　after