战争与和平(上)-第28章

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。　Prince　Nikolay　Andreivitch；　once　a　commander…in…chief；　known　in　the　fashionable　world　by　the　nickname　of　“the　Prussian　king；”　had　been　exiled　to　his　estate　in　the　reign　of　Paul；　and　had　remained　at　Bleak　Hills　ever　since　with　his　daughter；　Princess　Marya；　and　her　companion；　Mademoiselle　Bourienne。　Even　in　the　new　reign；　though　he　had　received　permission　to　return　to　the　capital；　he　had　never　left　his　home　in　the　country；　saying　that　if　any　one　wanted　to　see　him；　he　could　travel　the　hundred　and　fifty　versts　from　Moscow　to　Bleak　Hills；　and；　for　his　part；　he　wanted　nobody　and　nothing。　He　used　to　maintain　that　human　vices　all　sprang　from　only　two　sources—idleness　and　superstition；　and　that　there　were　but　two　virtues—energy　and　intelligence。　He　had　himself　undertaken　the　education　of　his　daughter；　and　to　develop　in　her　these　important　qualities；　he　continued　giving　her　lessons　in　algebra　and　geometry　up　to　her　twentieth　year；　and　mapped　out　her　whole　life　in　uninterrupted　occupation。　He　was　himself　always　occupied　in　writing　his　memoirs；　working　out　problems　in　higher　mathematics；　turning　snuff…boxes　on　his　lathe；　working　in　his　garden；　or　looking　after　the　erection　of　farm　buildings　which　were　always　being　built　on　his　estate。　Since　the　great　thing　for　enabling　one　to　get　through　work　is　regularity；　he　had　carried　regularity　in　his　manner　of　life　to　the　highest　point　of　exactitude。　His　meals　were　served　in　a　fixed　and　invariable　manner；　and　not　only　at　a　certain　hour；　but　at　a　certain　minute。　With　those　about　him；　from　his　daughter　to　his　servants；　the　count　was　sharp　and　invariably　exacting；　and　so；　without　being　cruel；　he　inspired　a　degree　of　respect　and　awe　that　the　most　cruel　man　could　not　readily　have　commanded。　In　spite　of　the　fact　that　he　was　now　on　the　retired　list；　and　had　no　influence　whatever　in　political　circles；　every　high　official　in　the　province　in　which　was　the　prince’s　estate　felt　obliged　to　call　upon　him；　and　had；　just　like　the　architect；　the　gardener；　or　Princess　Marya；　to　wait　till　the　regular　hour　at　which　the　prince　always　made　his　appearance　in　the　lofty　waiting…room。　And　every　one　in　the　waiting…room　felt　the　same　veneration；　and　even　awe；　when　the　immensely　high　door　of　the　study　opened　and　showed　the　small　figure　of　the　old　man　in　a　powdered　wig；　with　his　little　withered　hands　and　grey；　overhanging　eyebrows；　that；　at　times　when　he　scowled；　hid　the　gleam　in　his　shrewd；　youthful…looking　eyes。
On　the　day　that　the　young　people　were　expected　to　arrive；　Princess　Marya　went　as　usual　at　the　fixed　hour　in　the　morning　into　the　waiting…room　to　say　good…morning　to　her　father；　and　with　dread　in　her　heart　crossed　herself　and　mentally　repeated　a　prayer。　Every　day　she　went　in　to　her　father　in　the　same　way；　and　every　day　she　prayed　that　her　interview　with　her　father　might　pass　off　well　that　day。　The　old　man…servant；　wearing　powder；　softly　got　up　from　his　seat　in　the　waiting…room　and　whispered：　“Walk　in。”
Through　the　door　came　the　regular　sounds　of　the　lathe。　The　princess　kept　timidly　hold　of　the　door；　which　opened　smoothly　and　easily；　and　stood　still　in　the　doorway。　The　prince　was　working　at　his　lathe；　and　glancing　round；　he　went　on　with　what　he　was　doing。
The　immense　room　was　filled　with　things　obviously　in　constant　use。　The　large　table；　on　which　lay　books　and　plans；　the　high　bookcases　with　keys　in　the　glass…covered　doors；　the　high　table　for　the　prince　to　write　at；　standing　up；　with　an　open　manuscript…book　upon　it；　the　carpenter’s　lathe；　with　tools　ranged　about　it　and　shavings　scattered　around；　all　suggested　continual；　varied；　and　orderly　activity。　The　movements　of　the　prince’s　small　foot　in　its　Tatar；　silver…embroidered　boot；　the　firm　pressure　of　his　sinewy；　lean　hand；　showed　the　strength　of　vigorous　old　age　still　strong…willed　and　wiry。　After　making　a　few　more　turns；　he　took　his　foot　from　the　pedal　of　the　lathe；　wiped　the　plane；　dropped　it　into　a　leather　pouch　attached　to　the　lathe；　and　going　up　to　the　table　called　his　daughter。　He　never　gave　the　usual　blessing　to　his　children；　he　simply　offered　her　his　scrubby；　not　yet　shaved　cheek；　and　said　sternly　and　yet　at　the　same　time　with　intense　tenderness；　as　he　looked　her　over：　“Quite　well？　…　All　right；　then；　sit　down！”　He　took　a　geometry　exercise…book　written　by　his　own　hand；　and　drew　his　chair　up　with　his　leg。
“For　to…morrow；”　he　said　quickly；　turning　to　the　page　and　marking　it　from　one　paragraph　to　the　next　with　his　rough　nail。　The　princess　bent　over　the　exercise…book。　“Stop；　there’s　a　letter　for　you；”　the　old　man　said　suddenly；　pulling　out　of　a　pocket　hanging　over　the　table　an　envelope　addressed　in　a　feminine　hand；　and　putting　it　on　the　table。
The　princess’s　face　coloured　red　in　patches　at　the　sight　of　the　letter。　She　took　it　hurriedly　and　bent　over　it。
“From　Heloise？”　asked　the　prince；　showing　his　still　strong；　yellow　teeth　in　a　cold　smile。
“Yes；　from　Julie；”　said　the　princess；　glancing　timidly　at　him；　and　timidly　smiling。
“Two　more　letters　I’ll　let　pass；　but　the　third　I　shall　read；”　said　the　prince　severely。　“I’m　afraid　you　write　a　lot　of　nonsense。　The　third　I　shall　read。”
“Read　this　one；　father；”　answered　the　princess；　colouring　still　more　and　handing　him　the　letter。
“The　third；　I　said　the　third；”　the　prince　cried　shortly；　pushing　away　the　letter　and　leaning　his　elbow　on　the　table；　he　drew　up　to　him　the　book　with　the　figures　of　geometry　in　it。
“Now；　madam；”　began　the　old　man；　bending　over　the　book　close　to　his　daughter；　and　laying　one　arm　on　the　back　of　the　chair　she　was　sitting　on；　so　that　the　princess　felt　herself　surrounded　on　all　sides　by　the　peculiar　acrid　smell　of　old　age　and　tobacco；　which　she　had　so　long　associated　with　her　father。　“Come；　madam；　these　triangles　are　equal：　kindly　look；　the　angle　A　B　C。　…”
The　princess　glanced　in　a　scared　way　at　her　father’s　eyes　gleaming　close　beside　her。　The　red　patches　overspread　her　whole　face；　and　it　was　evident　that　she　did　not　understand　a　word；　and　was　so　frightened　that　terror　prevented　her　from　understanding　all　the　subsequent　explanations　her　father　offered　her；　however　clear　they　might　be。　Whether　it　was　the　teacher’s　fault　or　the　pupil’s；　every　day　the　same　scene　was　repeated。　The　princess’s　eyes　grew　dim；　she　could　see　and　hear　nothing；　she　could　feel　nothing　but　the　dry　face　of　her　stern　father　near　her；　his　breath　and　the　smell　of　him；　and　could　think　of　nothing　but　how　to　escape　as　soon　as　possible　from　the　study　and　to　make　out　the　problem　in　freedom　in　her　room。　The　old　man　lost　his　temper；　with　a　loud；　grating　noise　he　pushed　back　and　drew　up　again　the　chair　he　was　sitting　on；　made　an　effort　to　control　himself；　not　to　fly　into　a　rage；　and　almost　every　time　did　fly　into　a　rage；　and　scold；　and　sometimes　flung　the　book　away。
The　princess　answered　a　question　wrong。
“Well；　you　are　too　stupid！”　cried　the　prince；　pushing　away　the　book；　and　turning　sharply　away。　But　he　got　up　immediately；　walked　up　and　down；　laid　his　hand　on　the　princess’s　hair；　and　sat　down　again。　He　drew　himself　up　to　the　table　and　continued　his　explanations。　“This　won’t　do；　it　won’t　do；”　he　said；　when　Princess　Marya；　taking　the　exercise…book　with　the　lesson　set　her；　and　shutting　it；　was　about　to　leave　the　room：　“mathematics　is　a　grand　subject；　madam。　And　to　have　you　like　the　common　run　of　our　silly　misses　is　what　I　don’t　want　at　all。　Patience；　and　you’ll　get　to　like　it。”　He　patted　her　on　the　cheek。　“It　will　drive　all　the　nonsense　out　of　your　head。”　She　would　have　gone；　he　stopped　her　with　a　gesture；　and　took　a　new；　uncut　book　from　the　high　table。
“Here’s　a　book；　too；　your　Heloise　sends　you　some　sort　of　Key　to　the　Mystery。　Religious。　But　I　don’t　interfere　with　any　one’s　belief…。　I　have　looked　at　it。　Take　it。　Come；　run　along；　run　along。”
He　patted　her　on　the　shoulder；　and　himself　closed　the　door　after　her。
Princess　Marya　went　back　to　her　own　room　with　that　dejected；　scared　expression　that　rarely　left　her；　and　made　her　plain；　sickly　face　even　plainer。　She　sat　down　at　her　writing…table；　which　was　dotted　with　miniature　portraits；　and　strewn　with　books　and　manuscripts。　The　princess　was　as　untidy　as　her　father　was　tidy。　She　put　down　the　geometry　exercise…book　and　impatiently　opened　th