战争与和平(上)-第230章

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omed　to　lead　debates　and　bring　forward　motions；　he　began　speaking　in　a　low　but　audible　voice：
“I　imagine；　my　dear　sir；”　said　the　senator；　mumbling　with　his　toothless　mouth；　“that　we　are　summoned　here　not　to　discuss　which　is　more　suitable　for　the　country　at　the　present　moment—conscription　or　the　militia。　We　are　summoned　to　reply　to　the　appeal　which　our　sovereign　the　Emperor　graciously　deigns　to　make　to　us。　And　to　judge　which　is　the　fitter　means—recruiting　or　a　levy　for　militia—we　leave　to　a　higher　power。…”
Pierre　suddenly　found　the　right　outlet　for　his　excitement。　He　felt　exasperated　with　the　senator；　who　introduced　this　conventional　and　narrow　view　of　the　duties　that　lay　before　the　nobility。　Pierre　stepped　forward　and　cut　him　short。　He　did　not　know　himself　what　he　was　going　to　say；　but　he　began　eagerly；　using　bookish　Russian；　and　occasionally　relapsing　into　French。
“Excuse　me；　your　excellency；”　he　began　（Pierre　was　well　acquainted　with　this　senator；　but　he　felt　it　necessary　on　this　occasion　to　address　him　formally）；　“though　I　differ　from　the　gentleman…”　（Pierre　hesitated；　he　would　have　liked　to　say　Mon　très　honorable　préopinante）　“with　the　gentleman…whom　I　have　not　the　honour　of　knowing；　but　I　imagine　the　estate　of　the　nobility；　apart　from　the　expression　of　its　sympathy　and　enthusiasm；　has　been　convoked　also　to　deliberate　upon　the　measures　by　which　we　can　assist　our　country。　I　imagine；”　said　Pierre；　growing　warmer；　“that　the　Tsar　would　himself　be　displeased　if　he　should　find　in　us　only　the　owners　of　peasants；　whom　we　give　up　to　him；　and　chair　à　canon；　which　we　offer　in　ourselves—and　should　not　find　in　us　co…co　…counsel。…”
Many　persons　moved　a　little　away　from　the　circle；　noticing　the　disdainful　smile　of　the　senator　and　the　freedom　of　Pierre’s　words。　Ilya　Andreitch　was　the　only　person　pleased　at　what　Pierre　said；　just　as　he　had　been　pleased　with　the　naval　officer’s　speech　and　the　senator’s；　as　he　always　was　with　the　last　speech　he　had　heard。
“I　consider　that　before　discussing　these　questions；”　Pierre　continued；　“we　ought　to　ask　the　Emperor；　most　respectfully　to　ask　his　majesty；　to　communicate　to　us　what　forces　we　have；　what　is　the　position　of　our　men　and　our　army；　and　then…”
Pierre　had　hardly　uttered　these　words　when　he　was　promptly　attacked　on　three　sides　at　once。　The　most　violent　onslaught　was　made　upon　him　by　an　old　acquaintance　and　partner　at　boston；　who　had　always　been　on　the　friendliest　terms　with　him；　Stepan　Stepanovitch　Adraksin。　Stepan　Stepanovitch　was；　of　course；　in　uniform；　and　whether　it　was　due　to　the　uniform　or　to　other　causes；　Pierre　saw　before　him　quite　a　changed　man。　Stepan　Stepanovitch；　with　an　old　man’s　anger　in　his　face；　screamed　at　Pierre：
“In　the　first　place；　let　me　tell　you　that　we　have　no　right　to　ask　such　questions　of　the　Emperor；　and　secondly；　if　the　nobility　had　any　such　right；　the　Emperor　could　not　answer　such　questions。　The　movements　of　the　troops　depend　on　the　movements　of　the　enemy；　the　troops　are　augmented　and　decreased…”
Another　voice　interrupted　Adraksin。　The　speaker　was　a　man　of　forty；　of　medium　height；　whom　Pierre　had　seen　in　former　days　at　the　gypsies’　entertainments；　and　knew　as　a　bad　card…player。　But　now　he；　too；　was　quite　transformed　by　his　uniform；　as　he　moved　up　to　Pierre。
“Yes；　and　it’s　not　the　time　for　deliberation；”　said　this　nobleman。
“What’s　needed　is　action；　there　is　war　in　Russia。　Our　foe　comes　to　ruin　Russia；　to　desecrate　the　tombs　of　our　fathers；　to　carry　away　our　wives　and　children。”　The　gentleman　struck　himself　a　blow　on　the　chest。　“We　will　all　rise　up；　we　will　all　go　to　a　man；　we　will　follow　our　father　the　Tsar！”　he　cried；　rolling　his　bloodshot　eyes。　Several　approving　voices　could　be　heard　in　the　crowd。　“We　are　Russians　and　we　do　not　grudge　our　blood　for　the　defence　of　our　faith；　our　throne；　and　our　country。　But　we　must　put　a　stop　to　idle　talk；　if　we　are　true　sons　of　our　fatherland。　We　will　show　Europe　how　Russia　can　defend　Russia！”　shouted　this　gentleman。
Pierre　tried　to　reply；　but　he　could　not　get　in　a　word。　He　felt　that　the　sound　of　his　words；　apart　from　any　meaning　they　conveyed；　was　less　audible　than　the　sound　of　his　excited　adversary’s　voice。
In　the　rear　of　the　group；　Ilya　Andreitch　was　nodding　approval；　several　of　the　audience　turned　their　shoulders　briskly　to　the　orator　at　the　conclusion　of　a　phrase　and　said：
“That’s　so；　that’s　so；　indeed！”
Pierre　wanted　to　say　that　he　was　by　no　means　averse　to　the　sacrifice　of　his　money；　or　his　peasants；　or　himself；　but　that　one　ought　to　know　the　true　position　of　affairs；　in　order　to　be　able　to　assist；　but　he　could　not　speak。
A　number　of　voices　were　speaking　and　shouting　together；　so　much　so　that　Ilya　Andreitch　had　not　time　to　nod　approval　to　all　of　them。　And　the　group　grew　larger　and　broke　up　into　knots；　re…formed　again；　and　moved　all　together　with　a　hum　of　talk　to　the　big　table　in　the　big　room。　Pierre　was　not　allowed　to　speak；　they　rudely　interrupted　him；　indeed　hustled　him　and　turned　their　backs　on　him　as　though　he　were　the　common　foe。　This　was　not　really　due　to　their　dislike　of　the　tenor　of　his　speech；　which　they　had　forgotten；　indeed；　after　the　great　number　of　speeches　that　followed　it。　But　a　crowd　is　always　pleased　to　have　a　concrete　object　for　its　love　or　its　hatred。　Pierre　furnished　it　with　the　latter。
Many　orators　spoke　after　the　eager　nobleman；　but　all　spoke　in　the　same　tone。　Some　spoke　eloquently　and　originally。
The　editor　of　the　Russian　Messenger；　Glinka；　who　was　recognised　and　greeted　with　shouts　of　“the　author；　the　author！”　said　that　hell　must　be　driven　back　by　hell；　that　he　had　seen　a　child　smiling　at　the　lightning　flash　and　the　thunder　clap；　but　we　would　not　be　like　that　child。
“Yes；　yes；　at　the　thunder　clap！”　was　repeated　with　approval　at　the　back　of　the　crowd。
The　crowd　approached　the　great　table；　where　grey　or　bald　old　noblemen　of　seventy　were　sitting；　wearing　uniforms　and　decorations。　Almost　all　of　them　Pierre　had　seen　with　their　buffoons　in　their　own　homes　or　playing　boston　at　the　club。　The　crowd　drew　near　the　table；　still　with　the　same　buzz　of　talk。　The　orators；　squeezed　in　behind　the　high　chair　backs　by　the　surging　crowd；　spoke　one　after　another　and　sometimes　two　at　once。　Those　who　stood　further　back　noticed　what　the　speaker　had　left　unsaid　and　hastened　to　supply　the　gap。　Others　were　busy　in　the　heat　and　crush；　ransacking　their　brains　to　find　some　idea　and　hurriedly　uttering　it。　The　old　grandees　at　the　table　sat　looking　from　one　to　another；　and　their　expression　for　the　most　part　betrayed　nothing　but　that　they　were　very　hot。　Pierre　however　felt　excited；　and　the　general　feeling　of　desire　to　show　that　they　were　ready　for　anything；　expressed　for　the　most　part　more　in　tones　and　looks　than　in　the　tenor　of　the　speeches；　infected　him　too。　He　did　not　disavow　his　ideas；　but　felt　somehow　in　fault　and　tried　to　defend　himself。
“I　only　said　that　we　could　make　sacrifices　to　better　purpose　when　we　know　what　is　needed；”　he　cried；　trying　to　shout　down　the　other　voices。
One　old　man　close　by　him　looked　round；　but　his　attention　was　immediately　called　off　by　a　shout　at　the　other　end　of　the　table。
“Yes；　Moscow　will　be　surrendered！　She　will　be　the　expiation！”　one　man　was　shouting。
“He　is　the　enemy　of　mankind！”　another　shouted。
“Allow　me　to　say…”
“Gentlemen；　you　are　crushing　me！…”


Chapter　23
AT　THAT　MOMENT　Count　Rastoptchin；　with　his　prominent　chin　and　alert　eyes；　strode　in　rapidly　through　the　parting　crowd；　wearing　the　uniform　of　a　general　and　a　ribbon　over　his　shoulder。
“Our　sovereign　the　Emperor　will　be　here　immediately；”　said　Rastoptchin。　“I　have　just　come　from　him。　I　presume　that　in　the　position　in　which　we　are　placed；　there　is　no　need　of　much　discussion。　The　Emperor　has　graciously　seen　fit　to　summon　us　and　the　merchants；”　said　Count　Rastoptchin。　“They　will　pour　out　their　millions”　（he　pointed　to　the　merchants’　hall）；　“it　is　our　duty　to　raise　men　and　not　to　spare　ourselves。…　It　is　the　least　we　can　do。”
A　consultation　took　place　between　the　great　noblemen　at　the　table　only。　The　whole　consultation　was　more　than　subdued；　it　seemed　ever　mournful；　when；　after　all　the　hubbub　that　had　gone　before；　the　old　voices　could　be　heard；　one　at