战争与和平(上)-第292章

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to　urge　the　soldiers　on；　or　anything　of　the　sort；　had　much　ado　to　keep　in　check　this　…　yes；　these　exploits　recalling　the　valour　of　antiquity；”　he　rattled　off。　“General　Barclay　de　Tolly　risked　his　life　everywhere　in　front　of　his　troops；　I　can　assure　you。　Our　corps　was　posted　on　the　slope　of　a　hill。　Only　fancy！”　And　Berg　proceeded　to　recount　all　the　stories　he　had　heard　repeated　about　the　battle。　Natasha　stared　at　Berg；　as　though　seeking　the　solution　of　some　problem　in　his　face；　and　her　eyes　disconcerted　him。
“Altogether；　the　heroism　shown　by　the　Russian　soldiers　is　beyond　praise；　and　beyond　description！”　said　Berg；　looking　at　Natasha；　and　as　though　wishing　to　soften　her；　he　smiled　in　response　to　her　persistent　stare　…　“　‘Russia　is　not　in　Moscow；　she　lives　in　the　hearts　of　her　sons！’　Eh；　papa？”　said　Berg。
At　that　moment　the　countess　came　in　from　the　divan…room　with　a　look　of　weariness　and　annoyance　on　her　face。　Berg　skipped　up；　kissed　the　countess’s　hand；　asked　after　her　health；　and　stood　beside　her；　with　a　sympathetic　shake　of　his　head。
“Yes；　mamma；　to　tell　the　truth；　these　are　hard　and　sorrowful　times　for　every　Russian。　But　why　should　you　be　so　anxious？　You　have　still　time　to　get　away　…”
“I　can’t　make　out　what　the　servants　are　about；”　said　the　countess；　addressing　her　husband。　“They　told　me　just　now　nothing　was　ready。　Some　one　really　must　go　and　look　after　them。　It’s　at　such　times　one　misses　Mitenka。　There　will　be　no　end　to　it。”
The　count　was　about　to　make　some　reply；　but　with　a　visible　effort　to　restrain　himself；　got　up　and　went　to　the　door　without　a　word。
Berg；　meanwhile；　had　taken　out　his　handkerchief　as　though　about　to　blow　his　nose；　and；　seeing　the　knot　in　it；　he　pondered　a　moment；　shaking　his　head　with　mournful　significance。
“And；　do　you　know；　papa；　I　have　a　great　favour　to　ask　…”　he　began。
“H’m？”　said　the　count；　pausing。
“I　was　passing　by　Yusupov’s　house　just　now；”　said　Berg；　laughing。　“The　steward；　a　man　I　know；　ran　out　and　asked　me　whether　I　wouldn’t　care　to　buy　any　of　their　things。　I　went　in；　you　know；　out　of　curiosity；　and　there　is　a　little　chiffonier　and　dressing…table。　You　know；　just　like　what　Verushka　wanted；　and　we　quarrelled　about。”　（Berg　unconsciously　passed　into　a　tone　expressive　of　his　pleasure　in　his　own　excellent　domestic　arrangements。）　“And　such　a　charming　thing！—it　moves　forward；　you　know；　with　a　secret　English　lock。　And　it’s　just　what　Verushka　wanted。　So　I　want　to　make　it　a　surprise　for　her。　I　see　what　a　number　of　peasants　you　have　in　the　yard。　Please；　spare　me　one　of　them。　I’ll　pay　him　well；　and　…”
The　count　frowned　and　sniffed。
“Ask　the　countess；　I　don’t　give　the　orders。”
“If　it’s　troublesome；　pray　don’t；”　said　Berg。　“Only　I　should　have　liked　it　on　Vera’s　account。”
“Ah；　go　to　damnation　all　of　you；　damnation！　damnation！　damnation！”　cried　the　old　count。　“My　head’s　going　round。”　And　he　went　out　of　the　room。
The　countess　began　to　cry。
“Yes；　indeed；　these　are　terrible　times；　mamma！”　said　Berg。
Natasha　went　out　with　her　father；　and　as　though　unable　to　make　up　her　mind　on　some　difficult　question；　she　followed　him　at　first；　then　turned　and　ran　downstairs。
Petya　was　standing　at　the　entrance；　engaged　in　giving　out　weapons　to　the　servants；　who　were　leaving　Moscow。　The　loaded　waggons　were　still　standing　in　the　yards。　Two　of　them　had　been　uncorded；　and　on　to　one　of　these　the　wounded　officer　was　clambering　with　the　assistance　of　his　orderly。
“Do　you　know　what　it　was　about？”　Petya　asked　Natasha。　（Natasha　knew　that　he　meant；　what　their　father　and　mother　had　been　quarrelling　about。）　She　did　not　answer。
“It　was　because　papa　wanted　to　give　up　all　the　waggons　to　the　wounded；”　said　Petya。　“Vassilitch　told　me。　And　what　I　think　…”
“What　I　think；”　Natasha　suddenly　almost　screamed；　turning　a　furious　face　on　Petya；　“what　I　think　is；　that　it’s　so　vile；　so　loathsome　…　I　don’t　know。　Are　we　a　lot　of　low　Germans？　…”　Her　throat　was　quivering　with　sobs；　but　afraid　of　being　weak；　or　wasting　the　force　of　her　anger；　she　turned　and　flew　headlong　up　the　stairs。
Berg　was　sitting　beside　the　countess；　trying　with　filial　respectfulness　to　reassure　her。　The　count　was　walking　about　the　room　with　a　pipe　in　his　hand；　when；　with　a　face　distorted　by　passion；　Natasha　burst　like　a　tempest　into　the　room；　and　ran　with　rapid　steps　up　to　her　mother。
“It’s　vile！　It’s　loathsome！”　she　screamed。　“It　can’t　be　true　that　it’s　your　order。”
Berg　and　the　countess　gazed　at　her　in　alarm　and　bewilderment。　The　count　stood　still　in　the　window　listening。
“Mamma；　it’s　impossible；　look　what’s　being　done　in　the　yard！”　she　cried；　“they　are　being　left　…”
“What’s　the　matter？　Who　are　they？　What　do　you　want？”
“The　wounded！　It’s　impossible；　mamma；　it’s　outrageous。…　No；　mamma；　darling；　it’s　all　wrong；　forgive　me；　please；　darling　…　Mamma；　what　is　it　to　us　what　we　take　away；　you　only　look　out　into　the　yard。…　Mamma！　…　It　can’t　be　done。…”
The　count　stood　in　the　window；　and　listened　to　Natasha　without　turning　his　head。　All　at　once　he　gave　a　sort　of　gulp；　and　put　his　face　closer　to　the　window。
The　countess　glanced　at　her　daughter；　saw　her　face　full　of　shame　for　her　mother；　saw　her　emotion；　felt　why　her　husband　would　not　look　at　her　now；　and　looked　about　her　with　a　distracted　air。
“Oh；　do　as　you　please。　Am　I　doing　anything　to　hinder　any　one？”　she　said；　not　giving　way　all　at　once。
“Mamma；　darling；　forgive　me。”
But　the　countess　pushed　away　her　daughter；　and　went　up　to　the　count。
“My　dear；　you　order　what　is　right。…　I　don’t　understand　about　it；　you　know；”　she　said；　dropping　her　eyes　with　a　guilty　air。
“The　eggs；　…　the　eggs　teaching　the　hen；　…”　the　count　murmured　through　tears　of　gladness；　and　he　embraced　his　wife；　who　was　glad　to　hide　her　ashamed　face　on　his　breast。
“Papa；　mamma！　may　I　give　the　order？　May　I？　…”　asked　Natasha。　“We’ll　take　all　that’s　quite　necessary　all　the　same；”　she　added。
The　count　nodded；　and　Natasha；　with　the　same　swiftness　with　which　she　used　to　run　at　“catch…catch；”　flew　across　the　hall　into　the　vestibule；　and　down　the　steps　into　the　yard。
The　servants　gathered　round　Natasha；　and　could　hardly　believe　the　strange　order　she　gave　them；　till　the　count　himself　in　his　wife’s　name　confirmed　the　order　that　all　the　waggons　were　to　be　placed　at　the　disposal　of　the　wounded；　and　the　boxes　were　to　be　taken　down　to　the　store…rooms。　When　they　understood；　the　servants　gleefully　and　busily　set　to　this　new　task。　It　no　longer　seemed　strange　to　the　servants；　it　seemed　to　them；　indeed；　that　no　other　course　was　possible；　just　as　a　quarter　of　an　hour　before　they　had　not　thought　it　strange　to　leave　the　wounded　behind　and　take　the　furniture；　had　accepted　that　too；　in　fact；　as　the　only　course　possible。
All　the　household　set　to　work　getting　the　wounded　men　into　the　waggons　with　the　greatest　zeal；　as　though　to　make　up　for　not　having　espoused　their　cause　earlier。　The　wounded　soldiers　came　creeping　out　of　their　rooms；　and　crowded　round　the　waggons；　with　pale；　delighted　faces。　The　news　spread　to　the　neighbouring　houses；　and　wounded　men　began　to　come　into　the　yard　from　other　houses　too。　Many　of　the　wounded　soldiers　begged　them　not　to　take　out　the　boxes；　but　only　to　let　them　sit　on　the　top　of　them。　But　when　once　the　work　of　unloading　had　begun　there　was　no　stopping　it；　it　seemed　of　little　consequence　whether　all　were　left　or　half。　The　cases　of　china；　of　bronzes；　of　pictures　and　looking…glasses；　which　had　been　so　carefully　packed　during　the　previous　night　lay　in　the　yard；　and　still　they　sought　and　found　possibilities　of　taking　out　more　and　more；　and　leaving　more　and　more；　for　the　wounded。
“We　can　take　four　more；”　said　the　steward。　“I’ll　leave　my　luggage；　or　else　what　is　to　become　of　them？”
“Oh；　let　them　have　our　wardrobe　cart；”　said　the　countess；　“Dunyasha　will　go　with　me　in　the　carriage。”
The　waggon　packed　with　the　ladies’　wardrobe　was　unloaded；　and　sent　to　fetch　wounded　men　from　two　doors　off。　All　the　family　and　the　servants　too　were　eager　and　merry。　Natasha　was　in　a　state　of　ecstatic　happiness；　such　as　she　had　not　known　for　a　very　long　while。
“Where　are　we　to　fasten　this　on？”　said　the　servant；　trying　to　lay　a　trunk　on　the　narrow　footbo