战争与和平(上)-第236章

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ok　of　horror　came　into　the　governor’s　face。
“You　can　go；”　he　said；　nodding　to　Alpatitch；　and　he　put　some　questions　to　the　officer。　Eager；　panic…stricken；　helpless　glances　were　turned　upon　Alpatitch　when　he　came　out　of　the　governor’s　room。　Alpatitch　could　not　help　listening　now　to　firing；　which　seemed　to　come　closer　and　to　be　getting　hotter；　as　he　hurried　back　to　the　inn。　The　document　the　governor　had　given　to　Alpatitch　ran　as　follows：
“I　guarantee　that　the　town　of　Smolensk　is　not　in　the　slightest　danger；　and　it　is　improbable　that　it　should　be　threatened　in　any　way。　I　myself　from　one　side；　and　Prince　Bagration　from　the　other；　will　effect　a　junction　before　Smolensk　on　the　22nd　instant；　and　both　armies　will　proceed　with　their　joint　forces　to　defend　their　compatriots　of　the　province　under　your　government；　till　their　efforts　beat　back　the　enemies　of　our　country；　or　till　their　gallant　ranks　are　cut　down　to　the　last　warrior。　You　will　see　from　this　that　you　have　a　perfect　right　to　reassure　the　inhabitants　of　Smolensk；　as　they　are　defended　by　two　such　valiant　armies　and　can　be　confident　of　their　victory。
（“By　order　of　Barclay　de　Tolly　to　the　civil　governor　of　Smolensk。　Baron　Ash。　1812。”）
Crowds　of　people　were　moving　uneasily　about　the　streets。　Waggons；　loaded　up　with　household　crockery；　chairs；　and　cupboards；　were　constantly　emerging　from　the　gates　of　houses；　and　moving　along　the　streets。　Carts　were　standing　at　the　entrance　of　the　house　next　to　Ferapontov’s；　and　women　were　wailing　and　exchanging　good…byes。　The　yard　dog　was　frisking　about　the　horses；　barking。
Alpatitch’s　step　was　more　hurried　than　usual　as　he　entered　the　yard；　and　went　straight　under　the　shed　to　his　horses　and　cart。　The　coachman　was　asleep；　he　waked　him　up；　told　him　to　put　the　horses　in；　and　went　into　the　outer　room　of　the　house。　In　the　private　room　of　the　family；　he　heard　the　wailing　of　children；　the　heartrending　sobs　of　a　woman；　and　the　furious；　husky　shouting　of　Ferapontov。　The　cook　came　fluttering　into　the　outer　room　like　a　frightened　hen；　just　as　Alpatitch　walked　in。
“He’s　beating　her　to　death—beating　the　mistress！…He’s　beaten　her　so；　thrashed　her　so！…”
“What　for？”　asked　Alpatitch。
“She　kept　begging　to　go　away。　A　woman’s　way！　Take　me　away；　says　she；　don’t　bring　me　to　ruin　with　all　my　little　children；　folks　are　all　gone；　says　she；　what　are　we　about？　So　he　fell　to　beating　her…beating　and　thrashing　her！”
Alpatitch　nodded　his　head；　apparently　in　approval　at　those　words；　and　not　caring　to　hear　more　he　went　towards　the　door　on　the　opposite　side　leading　to　the　room　in　which　his　purchases　had　been　left。
“Wretch；　villain；”　screamed　a　thin；　pale　woman；　bursting　out　at　that　moment　with　a　child　in　her　arms　and　her　kerchief　torn　off　her　head。　She　ran　down　the　steps　into　the　yard。　Ferapontov　was　going　after　her；　but　seeing　Alpatitch；　he　pulled　down　his　waistcoat；　smoothed　his　hair；　yawned　and　followed　Alpatitch　into　the　room。
“Do　you　want　to　be　getting　off　already？”　he　asked。　Without　answering　the　question　or　looking　round　at　him；　Alpatitch　collected　his　purchases　and　asked　how　much　he　owed　him。
“We’ll　reckon　up！　Been　at　the　governor’s；　eh？”　asked　Ferapontov。　“What　did　you　hear？”
Alpatitch　replied　that　the　governor　had　told　him　nothing　definite。
“How　are　we　to　pack　up　and　go　with　our　business？”　said　Ferapontov。　“Seven　roubles　to　pay　for　cartage　to　Dorogobuzh。　What　I　say　is：　they　have　no　conscience！”　said　he。　“Selivanov；　he　did　a　good　turn　on　Friday；　sold　flour　to　the　army　for　nine　roubles　the　sack。　What　do　you　say　to　some　tea？”　he　added。　While　the　horses　were　being　harnessed；　Alpatitch　and　Ferapontov　drank　tea　and　discussed　the　price　of　corn；　the　crops；　and　the　favourable　weather　for　the　harvest。
“It’s　getting　quieter　though；”　said　Ferapontov；　getting　up　after　drinking　three　cups　of　tea。　“I　suppose；　our　side　has　got　the　best　of　it。　It’s　been　said　they　won’t　let　them　in。　So　we’re　in　force　it　seems。…The　other　day　they　were　saying　Matvey　Ivanitch　Platov　drove　them　into　the　river　Marina：　eighteen　thousand　of　them　he　drowned　in　one　day。”
Alpatitch　gathered　up　his　purchases；　handed　them　to　the　coachman；　and　settled　his　accounts　with　Ferapontov。　There　was　the　sound　of　wheels　and　hoofs　and　the　ringing　of　bells　as　the　gig　drove　out　of　the　gates。
It　was　by　now　long　past　midday；　half　the　street　lay　in　shadow；　while　half　was　in　brilliant　sunshine。　Alpatitch　glanced　out　of　the　window　and　went　to　the　door。　All　of　a　sudden　there　came　a　strange　sound　of　a　faraway　hiss　and　thump；　followed　by　the　boom　of　cannons；　mingling　into　a　dim　roar　that　set　the　windows　rattling。
Alpatitch　went　out　into　the　street；　two　men　were　running　along　the　street　towards　the　bridge。　From　different　sides　came　the　hiss　and　thud　of　cannon　balls　and　the　bursting　of　grenades；　as　they　fell　in　the　town。　But　these　sounds　were　almost　unheard；　and　the　inhabitants　scarcely　noticed　them；　in　comparison　with　the　boom　of　the　cannons　they　heard　beyond　the　town。　It　was　the　bombardment；　which　Napoleon　had　ordered　to　be　opened　upon　the　town　at　four　o’clock　from　one　hundred　and　thirty　cannons。　The　people　did　not　at　first　grasp　the　meaning　of　this　bombardment。
The　sounds　of　the　dropping　grenades　and　cannon　balls　at　first　only　excited　the　curiosity　of　the　people。　Ferapontov’s　wife；　who　had　till　then　been　wailing　in　the　shed；　ceased；　and　with　the　baby　in　her　arms　went　out　to　the　gate；　staring　in　silence　at　the　people；　and　listening　to　the　sounds。
The　cook　and　shopman　came　out　to　the　gate。　All　of　them　were　trying　with　eager　curiosity　to　get　a　glimpse　of　the　projectiles　as　they　flew　over　their　heads。　Several　persons　came　round　the　corner　in　eager　conversation。
“What　force！”　one　was　saying；　“roof　and　ceiling　were　smashed　up　to　splinters。”
“Like　a　pig　routing　into　the　earth；　it　went！”　said　another。
“Isn’t　it　first…rate？　Wakes　one　up！”　he　said　laughing。
“It’s　as　well　you　skipped　away　or　it　would　have　flattened　you　out。”
Others　joined　this　group。　They　stopped　and　described　how　a　cannon　ball　had　dropped　on　a　house　close　to　them。　Meanwhile　other　projectiles—now　a　cannon　ball；　with　rapid；　ominous　hiss；　and　now　a　grenade　with　a　pleasant　whistle—flew　incessantly　over　the　people’s　heads：　but　not　one　fell　close；　all　of　them　flew　over。　Alpatitch　got　into　his　gig。　Ferapontov　was　standing　at　the　gate。
“Will　you　never　have　done　gaping！”　he　shouted　to　the　cook；　who　in　her　red　petticoat；　with　her　sleeves　tucked　up　and　her　bare　elbows　swinging；　had　stepped　to　the　corner　to　listen　to　what　was　being　said。
“A　wonder　it　is！”　she　was　saying；　but　hearing　her　master’s　voice；　she　came　back；　pulling　down　her　tucked…up　skirt。
Again　something　hissed；　but　very　close　this　time；　like　a　bird　swooping　down；　there　was　a　flash　of　fire　in　the　middle　of　the　street；　the　sound　of　a　shot；　and　the　street　was　filled　with　smoke。
“Scoundrel；　what　are　you　about？”　shouted　Ferapontov；　running　up　to　the　cook。
At　the　same　instant　there　rose　a　piteous　wailing　from　the　women；　the　baby　set　up　a　terrified　howling；　and　the　people　crowded　with　pale　faces　round　the　cook。　Above　them　all　rose　out　of　the　crowd　the　moans　and　cries　of　the　cook。
“O…o…oy；　good　kind　souls；　blessed　friends！　don’t　let　me　die！　Good　kind　souls！…”
Five　minutes　later　no　one　was　left　in　the　street。　The　cook；　with　her　leg　broken　by　the　bursting　grenade；　had　been　carried　into　the　kitchen。　Alpatitch；　his　coachman；　Ferapontov’s　wife　and　children　and　the　porter　were　sitting　in　the　cellar　listening。　The　thunder　of　the　cannon；　the　hiss　of　the　balls；　and　the　piteous　moaning　of　the　cook；　which　rose　above　all　the　noise；　never　ceased　for　an　instant。　Ferapontov’s　wife　alternately　dandled　and　soothed　her　baby；　and　asked　in　a　frightened　whisper　of　every　one　who　came　into　the　cellar　where　was　her　husband；　who　had　remained　in　the　street。　The　shopman　told　her　the　master　had　gone　with　the　crowd　to　the　cathedral；　where　they　were　raising　on　high　the　wonder…working；　holy　picture　of　Smolensk。
Towards　dusk　the　cannonade　began　to　subside。　Alpatitch　came　out　of　the　cellar　and　stood　in　the　doorway。
The　clear　evening　sky　was　all　overcast　with　smoke。　And　a　new　crescent　moon　looked　strange；　shining　high　up　in　the　sky；　through　that　smoke。　After　the　terrible