战争与和平(上)-第317章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


“Think　of　the　Emperor’s　position！”　the　courtiers　said；　and　they　no　longer　sang　the　praises　of　Kutuzov　as　two　days　before；　but　upbraided　him　as　the　cause　of　the　Tsar’s　uneasiness　that　day。　Prince　Vassily　no　longer　boasted　of　his　protégé　Kutuzov；　but　was　mute　when　the　commander…in…chief　was　the　subject　of　conversation。　Moreover；　on　the　evening　of　that　day　everything　seemed　to　conspire　to　throw　the　Peters…burg　world　into　agitation　and　uneasiness：　a　terrible　piece　of　news　came　to　add　to　their　alarms。　Countess　Elena　Bezuhov　died　quite　suddenly　of　the　terrible　illness　which　had　been　so　amusing　to　talk　about。　At　larger　gatherings　every　one　repeated　the　official　story　that　Countess　Bezuhov　had　died　of　a　terrible　attack　of　angina　pectoris；　but　in　intimate　circles　people　told　in　detail　how　the　Queen　of　Spain’s　own　medical　attendant　had　prescribed　to　Ellen　small　doses　of　a　certain　drug　to　bring　about　certain　desired　results；　but　that　Ellen；　tortured　by　the　old　count’s　suspecting　her；　and　by　her　husband’s　not　having　answered　her　letter　（that　unfortunate；　dissipated　Pierre）；　had　suddenly　taken　an　enormous　dose　of　the　drug　prescribed；　and　had　died　in　agonies　before　assistance　could　be　given。　The　story　ran　that　Prince　Vassily　and　the　old　count　had　been　going　to　take　proceedings　against　the　Italian；　but　the　latter　had　produced　notes　in　his　possession　from　the　unhappy　deceased　of　such　a　character　that　they　had　promptly　let　him　go。
Conversation　centred　round　three　melancholy　facts—the　Tsar’s　state　of　suspense；　the　loss　of　Kutaissov；　and　the　death　of　Ellen。
On　the　third　day　after　Kutuzov’s　despatch；　a　country　gentleman　arrived　in　Petersburg　from　Moscow；　and　the　news　of　the　surrender　of　Moscow　to　the　French　was　all　over　the　town。　This　was　awful！　Think　of　the　position　of　the　Emperor！　Kutuzov　was　a　traitor；　and　during　the　“visits　of　condolence”　paid　to　Prince　Vassily　on　the　occasion　of　his　daughter’s　death；　when　he　spoke　of　Kutuzov；　whose　praises　he　had　once　sung　so　loudly—it　was　pardonable　in　his　grief　to　forget　what　he　had　said　before—he　said　that　nothing　else　was　to　be　expected　from　a　blind　and　dissolute　old　man。
“I　only　wonder　how　such　a　man　could　possibly　be　trusted　with　the　fate　of　Russia。”
So　long　as　the　news　was　not　official；　it　was　still　possible　to　doubt　its　truth；　but　next　day　the　following　communication　arrived　from　Count　Rastoptchin：
“Prince　Kutuzov’s　adjutant　has　brought　me　a　letter　in　which　he　asks　me　to　furnish　police…officers　to　escort　the　army　to　the　Ryazan　road。　He　says　that　he　is　regretfully　abandoning　Moscow。　Sire！　Kutuzov’s　action　decides　the　fate　of　that　capital　and　of　your　empire。　Russia　will　shudder　to　learn　of　the　abandonment　of　the　city；　where　the　greatness　of　Russia　is　centred；　where　are　the　ashes　of　our　forefathers。　I　am　following　the　army。　I　have　had　everything　carried　away；　all　that　is　left　me　is　to　weep　over　the　fate　of　my　country。”
On　receiving　this　communication；　the　Tsar　sent　Prince　Volkonsky　with　the　following　rescript　to　Kutuzov：
“Prince　Mihail　Ilarionovitch！　I　have　received　no　communication　from　you　since　the　29th　of　August。　Meanwhile　I　have　received；　by　way　of　Yaroslavl；　from　the　governor　of　Moscow　the　melancholy　intelligence　that　you　have　decided　with　the　army　to　abandon　Moscow。　You　can　imagine　the　effect　this　news　has　had　upon　me；　and　your　silence　redoubles　my　astonishment。　I　am　sending　herewith　Staff…General　Prince　Volkonsky；　to　ascertain　from　you　the　position　of　the　army　and　of　the　causes　that　have　led　you　to　so　melancholy　a　decision。”


Chapter　3
NINE　DAYS　after　the　abandonment　of　Moscow；　a　courier　from　Kutuzov　reached　Petersburg　with　the　official　news　of　the　surrender　of　Moscow。　This　courier　was　a　Frenchman；　Michaud；　who　did　not　know　Russian；　yet　was；　“though　a　foreigner；　Russian　in　heart　and　soul；”　as　he　used　to　say　of　himself。
The　Tsar　at　once　received　the　messenger　in　his　study　in　the　palace　of　Kamenny　island。　Michaud；　who　had　never　seen　Moscow　before　the　campaign；　and　did　not　know　a　word　of　Russian；　yet　felt　deeply　moved　when　he　came　before　“notre　très　gracieux　souverain”　（as　he　wrote）　with　the　news　of　the　burning　of　Moscow；　whose　flames　illumined　his　route。
Though　the　source　of　M。　Michaud’s　sorrow　must　indeed　have　been　different　from　that　to　which　the　grief　of　Russian　people　was　due；　Michaud　had　such　a　melancholy　face　when　he　was　shown　into　the　Tsar’s　study　that　the　Tsar　asked　him　at　once：
“Do　you　bring　me　sad　news；　colonel？”
“Very　sad；　sire；　the　surrender　of　Moscow；”　answered　Michaud；　casting　his　eyes　down　with　a　sigh。
“Can　they　have　surrendered　my　ancient　capital　without　a　battle？”　the　Tsar　asked　quickly；　suddenly　flushing。
Michaud　respectfully　gave　the　message　he　had　been　commanded　to　give　from　Kutuzov；　that　is；　that　there　was　no　possibility　of　fighting　before　Moscow；　and　that　seeing　there　was　no　chance　but　either　to　lose　the　army　and　Moscow　or　to　lose　Moscow　alone；　the　commander…in…chief　had　been　obliged　to　choose　the　latter。
The　Tsar　listened　without　a　word；　not　looking　at　Michaud。
“Has　the　enemy　entered　the　city？”　he　asked。
“Yes；　sire；　and　by　now　the　city　is　in　ashes。　I　left　it　all　in　flames；”　said　Michaud　resolutely；　but　glancing　at　the　Tsar；　Michaud　was　horrified　at　what　he　had　done。　The　Tsar　was　breathing　hard　and　rapidly；　his　lower　lip　was　twitching；　and　his　fine　blue　eyes　were　for　a　moment　wet　with　tears。
But　that　lasted　only　a　moment。　The　Tsar　suddenly　frowned；　as　though　vexed　with　himself　for　his　own　weakness；　and　raising　his　head；　he　addressed　Michaud　in　a　firm　voice：
“I　see；　colonel；　from　all　that　is　happening　to　us　that　Providence　requires　great　sacrifices　of　us。　I　am　ready　to　submit　to　His　will　in　everything；　but　tell　me；　Michaud；　how　did　you　leave　the　army；　seeing　my　ancient　capital　thus　abandoned　without　striking　a　blow？　Did　you　not　perceive　discouragement？”
Seeing　that　his　most　gracious　sovereign　had　regained　his　composure；　Michaud　too　regained　his；　but　to　the　Tsar’s　direct　question　of　a　matter　of　fact　which　called　for　a　direct　answer；　he　had　not　yet　an　answer　ready。　“Sire；　will　you　permit　me　to　speak　frankly；　as　a　loyal　soldier？”　he　said；　to　gain　time。
“Colonel；　I　always　expect　it；”　said　the　Tsar。　“Hide　nothing　from　me；　I　want　to　know　absolutely　how　it　is。”
“Sire！”　said　Michaud；　with　a　delicate；　scarcely　perceptible　smile　on　his　lips；　as　he　had　now　had　time　to　prepare　his　answer　in　the　form　of　a　light　and　respectful　play　of　words。　“Sire！　I　left　the　whole　army；　from　the　commanders　to　the　lowest　soldier　without　exception；　in　extreme；　in　desperate　terror。”
“How　so？”　the　Tsar　interrupted；　frowning　sternly。　“My　Russians　let　themselves　be　cast　down　by　misfortune？…Never…”
This　was　just　what　Michaud　was　waiting　for　to　get　in　his　phrases。
“Sire；”　he　said；　with　a　respectful　playfulness　of　expression；　“they　fear　only　that　your　majesty　through　goodness　of　heart　may　let　yourself　be　persuaded　to　make　peace。　They　burn　to　fight；”　said　the　plenipotentiary　of　the　Russian　people；　“and　to　prove　to　your　majesty　by　the　sacrifice　of　their　lives　how　devoted　they　are…”
“Ah！”　said　the　Tsar；　reassured；　slapping　Michaud　on　the　shoulder；　with　a　friendly　light　in　his　eyes。　“You　tranquillise　me；　colonel…”
The　Tsar　looked　down；　and　for　some　time　he　was　silent。　“Well；　go　back　to　the　army；”　he　said；　drawing　himself　up　to　his　full　height　and　with　a　genial　and　majestic　gesture　addressing　Michaud；　“and　tell　our　brave　fellows；　tell　all　my　good　subjects　wherever　you　go；　that　when　I　have　not　a　soldier　left；　I　will　put　myself　at　the　head　of　my　dear　nobility；　of　my　good　peasants；　and　so　use　the　last　resources　of　my　empire。　It　offers　me　still　more　than　my　enemies　suppose；”　said　the　Tsar；　more　and　more　stirred。　“But　if　it　should　be　written　in　the　decrees　of　divine　Providence；”　he　said；　and　his　fine；　mild　eyes；　shining　with　emotion；　were　raised　towards　heaven；　“that　my　dynasty　should　cease　to　reign　on　the　throne　of　my　ancestors；　then　after　exhausting　every　means　in　my　power；　I　would　let　my　beard　grow　to　here”　（the　Tsar　put　his　hand　halfway　down　his　breast）；　“and　go　and　eat　potatoes　with　the　meanest　of　my　peasants　rather　than　sign　the　shame　of　my　country　and　my　dear　people；　whose　sacrifice　I　know　how　to　appreciate。”　Utte