战争与和平(上)-第315章

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stared　at　her　without　speaking　or　moving。
“Take　it；　take　the　child；”　said　Pierre；　handing　the　child　to　the　peasant　woman；　and　speaking　with　peremptory　haste。　“You　give　her　to　them；　you　take　her；”　he　almost　shouted　to　the　woman；　setting　the　screaming　child　on　the　ground；　and　looking　round　again　at　the　Frenchmen　and　the　Armenian　family。　The　old　man　was　by　now　sitting　barefoot。　The　little　Frenchman　had　just　taken　the　second　boot　from　him；　and　was　slapping　the　boots　together。　The　old　man　was　saying　something　with　a　sob；　but　all　that　Pierre　only　saw　in　a　passing　glimpse。　His　whole　attention　was　absorbed　by　the　Frenchman　in　the　tunic；　who　had　meanwhile；　with　a　deliberate；　swinging　gait；　moved　up　to　the　young　woman；　and　taking　his　hands　out　of　his　pockets；　caught　hold　of　her　neck。
The　beautiful　Armenian　still　sat　in　the　same　immobile　pose；　with　her　long　lashes　drooping；　and　seemed　not　to　see　and　not　to　feel　what　the　soldier　was　doing　to　her。
While　Pierre　ran　the　few　steps　that　separated　him　from　the　Frenchman；　the　long　soldier　in　the　tunic　had　already　torn　the　necklace　from　the　Armenian　beauty’s　neck；　and　the　young　woman；　clutching　at　her　neck　with　both　hands；　screamed　shrilly。
“Let　that　woman　alone！”　Pierre　roared　in　a　voice　hoarse　with　rage；　and　seizing　the　long；　stooping　soldier　by　the　shoulders　he　shoved　him　away。　The　soldier　fell　down；　got　up；　and　ran　away。　His　comrade；　dropping　the　boots；　pulled　out　his　sword；　and　moved　up　to　Pierre　in　a　menacing　attitude。
“Voyons；　pas　de　bêtises！”　he　shouted。
Pierre　was　in　that　transport　of　frenzy　in　which　he　remembered　nothing；　and　his　strength　was　increased　tenfold。　He　dashed　at　the　barefoot　Frenchman；　and　before　he　had　time　to　draw　his　cutlass；　he　knocked　him　down；　and　was　pommelling　him　with　his　fists　Shouts　of　approval　were　heard　from　the　crowd　around；　and　at　the　same　time　a　patrol　of　French　Uhlans　came　riding　round　the　corner。　The　Uhlans　trotted　up　to　Pierre；　and　the　French　soldiers　surrounded　him。　Pierre　had　no　recollection　of　what　followed。　He　remembered　that　he　beat　somebody；　and　was　beaten；　and　that　in　the　end　he　found　that　his　hands　were　tied；　that　a　group　of　French　soldiers　were　standing　round　him；　ransacking　his　clothes。
“Lieutenant；　he　has　a　dagger；”　were　the　first　words　Pierre　grasped　the　meaning　of。
“Ah；　a　weapon；”　said　the　officer；　and　he　turned　to　the　barefoot　soldier；　who　had　been　taken　with　Pierre。　“Very　good；　very　good；　you　can　tell　all　your　story　at　the　court…martial；”　said　the　officer。　And　then　he　turned　to　Pierre：　“Do　you　know　French？”
Pierre　looked　about　him　with　bloodshot　eyes；　and　made　no　reply。　Probably　his　face　looked　very　terrible；　for　the　officer　said　something　in　a　whisper；　and　four　more　Uhlans　left　the　rest；　and　stationed　themselves　both　sides　of　Pierre。
“Do　you　speak　French？”　the　officer；　keeping　his　distance；　repeated　the　question。　“Call　the　interpreter。”　From　the　ranks　a　little　man　came　forward；　in　a　Russian　civilian　dress。　Pierre；　from　his　dress　and　speech；　at　once　recognised　in　him　a　French　shopman　from　some　Moscow　shop。
“He　doesn’t　look　like　a　common　man；”　said　the　interpreter；　scanning　Pierre。
“Oh；　oh；　he　looks　very　like　an　incendiary；”　said　the　officer。　“Ask　him　who　he　is；”　he　added。
“Who　are　you？”　asked　the　interpreter　in　his　Frenchified　Russian。　“You　must　answer　the　officer。”
“I　will　not　say　who　I　am。　I　am　your　prisoner。　Take　me　away。”　Pierre　said　suddenly　in　French。
“Ah！　ah！”　commented　the　officer；　knitting　his　brows；　“well；　march　then！”
A　crowd　had　gathered　around　the　Uhlans。　Nearest　of　all　to　Pierre　stood　the　pock…marked　peasant　woman　with　the　child。　When　the　patrol　was　moving；　she　stepped　forward：
“Why；　where　are　they　taking　you；　my　good　soul？”　she　said。　“The　child！　what　am　I　to　do　with　the　child　if　it’s　not　theirs？”　she　cried。
“What　does　she　want；　this　woman？”　asked　the　officer。
Pierre　was　like　a　drunken　man。　His　excitement　was　increased　at　the　sight　of　the　little　girl　he　had　saved。
“What　does　she　want？”　he　said。　“She　is　carrying　my　daughter；　whom　I　have　just　saved　from　the　flames；”　he　declared。　“Good…bye！”　and　utterly　at　a　loss　to　explain　to　himself　the　aimless　lie　he　had　just　blurted　out；　he　strode　along　with　a　resolute　and　solemn　step　between　the　Frenchmen。
The　patrol　of　Uhlans　was　one　of　those　that　had　been　sent　out　by　Durosnel’s　orders　through　various　streets　of　Moscow　to　put　a　stop　to　pillage；　and　still　more　to　capture　the　incendiaries；　who　in　the　general　opinion　of　the　French　officers　in　the　higher　ranks　on　that　day　were　causing　the　fires。　Patrolling　several　streets；　the　Uhlans　arrested　five　more　suspicious　characters；　a　shopkeeper；　two　divinity　students；　a　peasant；　and　a　house…serf—all　Russians—besides　several　French　soldiers　engaged　in　pillage。　But　of　all　these　suspicious　characters　Pierre　seemed　to　them　the　most　suspicious　of　all。
When　they　had　all　been　brought　for　the　night　to　a　big　house　on　Zubovsky　rampart；　which　had　been　fixed　upon　as　a　guardhouse；　Pierre　was　put　apart　from　the　rest　under　strict　guard。


Part　Twelve
Chapter　1
IN　THE　HIGHER　CIRCLES　in　Petersburg　the　intricate　conflict　between　the　parties　of　Rumyantsev；　of　the　French；　of　Marya　Fyodorovna；　of　the　Tsarevitch；　and　the　rest　was　going　on　all　this　time　with　more　heat　than　ever；　drowned；　as　always；　by　the　buzzing　of　the　court　drones。　But　the　easy；　luxurious　life　of　Petersburg；　troubled　only　about　phantasms；　the　reflection　of　life；　went　on　its　old　way；　and　the　course　of　that　life　made　it　a　difficult　task　to　believe　in　the　danger　and　the　difficult　position　of　the　Russian　people。　There　were　the　same　levees　and　balls；　the　same　French　theatre；　the　same　court　interests；　the　same　interests　and　intrigues　in　the　government　service。　It　was　only　in　the　very　highest　circles　that　efforts　were　made　to　recollect　the　difficulty　of　the　real　position。　There　was　whispered　gossip　of　how　the　two　Empresses　had　acted　in　opposition　to　one　another　in　these　difficult　circumstances。　The　Empress　Marya　Fyodorovna；　anxious　for　the　welfare　of　the　benevolent　and　educational　institutions　under　her　patronage；　had　arrangements　made　for　the　removal　of　all　the　institutes　to　Kazan；　and　all　the　belongings　of　these　establishments　were　already　packed。　The　Empress　Elizaveta　Alexyevna　on　being　asked　what　commands　she　was　graciously　pleased　to　give；　had　been　pleased　to　reply　that　in　regard　to　state　matters　she　could　give　no　commands；　since　that　was　all　in　the　Tsar’s　hands；　as　far　as　she　personally　was　concerned；　she　had　graciously　declared；　with　her　characteristic　Russian　patriotism；　that　she　would　be　the　last　to　leave　Petersburg。
On　the　26th　of　August；　the　very　day　of　the　battle　of　Borodino；　there　was　a　soirée　at　Anna　Pavlovna’s；　the　chief　attraction　of　which　was　to　be　the　reading　of　the　Metropolitan’s　letter；　written　on　the　occasion　of　his　sending　to　the　Tsar　the　holy　picture　of　Saint　Sergey。　This　letter　was　looked　upon　as　a　model　of　patriotic　ecclesiastical　eloquence。　It　was　to　be　read　by　Prince　Vassily　himself；　who　was　famed　for　his　fine　elocution。　（He　used　even　to　read　aloud　in　the　Empress’s　drawing…room。）　The　beauty　of　his　elocution　was　supposed　to　lie　in　the　loud；　resonant　voice；　varying　between　a　despairing　howl　and　a　tender　whine；　in　which　he　rolled　off　the　words　quite　independently　of　the　sense；　so　that　a　howl　fell　on　one　word　and　a　whine　on　others　quite　at　random。　This　reading；　as　was　always　the　case　with　Anna　Pavlovna’s　entertainments；　had　a　political　significance。　She　was　expecting　at　this　soirée　several　important　personages　who　were　to　be　made　to　feel　ashamed　of　patronising　the　French　theatre；　and　to　be　roused　to　patriotic　fervour。　A　good　many　people　had　already　arrived；　but　Anna　Pavlovna　did　not　yet　see　those　persons　whose　presence　in　her　drawing…room　was　necessary；　and　she　was　therefore　starting　general　topics　of　conversation　before　proceeding　to　the　reading。
The　news　of　the　day　in　Petersburg　was　the　illness　of　Countess　Bezuhov。　The　countess　had　been　taken　ill　a　few　days　previously；　she　had　missed　several　entertainments；　of　which　she　was　usually　the　ornament；　and　it　was　said　that　she　was　seeing　no　one；　and　that　instead　of　the　celebrated　Petersburg　physicians；　who　usually　attended　her；　she　had　put　herself　into　the　hands　o