战争与和平(上)-第379章

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The　same　day　a　police　officer　came　to　see　Pierre；　with　an　offer　to　send　a　trusty　agent　to　the　Polygonal　Palace　to　receive　the　things　that　were　to…day　to　be　restored　among　the　owners。
“And　this　man　too；”　thought　Pierre；　looking　into　the　police　officer’s　face；　“what　a　nice；　good…looking　officer；　and　how　good…natured！　To　trouble　about　such　trifles　now。　And　yet　they　say　he　is　not　honest；　and　takes　bribes。　What　nonsense！　though　after　all　why　shouldn’t　he　take　bribes？　He　has　been　brought　up　in　that　way。　They　all　do　it。　But　such　a　pleasant；　good…humoured　face；　and　he　smiles　when　he　looks　at　me。”
Pierre　went　to　Princess　Marya’s　to　dinner。　As　he　drove　through　the　streets　between　the　charred　wrecks　of　houses；　he　admired　the　beauty　of　those　ruins。　The　chimneys　of　stoves；　and　the　tumbledown　walls　of　houses　stretched　in　long　rows；　hiding　one　another；　all　through　the　burnt　quarters　of　the　town；　and　recalled　to　him　the　picturesque　ruins　of　the　Rhine　and　of　the　Colosseum。　The　sledge…drivers　and　men　on　horseback；　the　carpenters　at　work　on　the　frames　of　the　houses；　the　hawkers　and　shopkeepers　all　looked　at　Pierre　with　cheerful；　beaming　faces；　and　seemed　to　him　to　say：　“Oh；　here　he　is！　We　shall　see　what　comes　of　it。”
On　reaching　Princess　Marya’s　house；　Pierre　was　beset　by　a　sudden　doubt　whether　it　were　true　that　he　had　been　there　the　day　before；　and　had　really　seen　Natasha　and　talked　to　her。　“Perhaps　it　was　all　my　own　invention；　perhaps　I　shall　go　in　and　see　no　one。”　But　no　sooner　had　he　entered　the　room　than　in　his　whole　being；　from　his　instantaneous　loss　of　freedom；　he　was　aware　of　her　presence。　She　was　wearing　the　same　black　dress；　that　hung　in　soft　folds；　and　had　her　hair　arranged　in　the　same　way；　but　she　was　utterly　different。　Had　she　looked　like　this　when　he　came　in　yesterday；　he　could　not　have　failed　to　recognise　her。
She　was　just　as　he　had　known　her　almost　as　a　child；　and　later　when　betrothed　to　Prince　Andrey。　A　bright；　questioning　light　gleamed　in　her　eyes；　there　was　a　friendly　and　strangely　mischievous　expression　in　her　face。
Pierre　dined；　and　would　have　spent　the　whole　evening　with　them；　but　Princess　Marya　was　going　to　vespers；　and　Pierre　went　with　them。
Next　day　Pierre　arrived　early；　dined　with　them；　and　stayed　the　whole　evening。　Although　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　were　obviously　glad　to　see　their　visitor；　and　although　the　whole　interest　of　Pierre’s　life　was　now　centred　in　that　house；　by　the　evening　they　had　said　all　they　had　to　say；　and　the　conversation　passed　continually　from　one　trivial　subject　to　another　and　often　broke　off　altogether。　Pierre　stayed　so　late　that　evening　that　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　exchanged　glances；　plainly　wondering　whether　he　would　not　soon　go。　Pierre　saw　that；　but　he　could　not　go　away。　He　began　to　feel　it　irksome　and　awkward；　but　still　he　sat　on　because　he　could　not　get　up　and　go。
Princess　Marya；　foreseeing　no　end　to　it；　was　the　first　to　get　up；　and　complaining　of　a　sick　headache；　she　began　saying　good…night。
“So　you　are　going　to…morrow　to　Petersburg？”　she　said。
“No；　I　am　not　going；”　said　Pierre　hurriedly；　with　surprise　and　a　sort　of　resentment　in　his　tone。　“No　…　yes；　to　Petersburg。　To…morrow；　perhaps；　but　I　won’t　say　good…bye。　I　shall　come　to　see　if　you　have　any　commissions　to　give　me；”　he　added；　standing　before　Princess　Marya；　turning　very　red；　and　not　taking　leave。
Natasha　gave　him　her　hand　and　retired。　Princess　Marya；　on　the　contrary；　instead　of　going　away；　sank　into　an　armchair；　and　with　her　luminous；　deep　eyes　looked　sternly　and　intently　at　Pierre。　The　weariness　she　had　unmistakably　betrayed　just　before　had　now　quite　passed　off。　She　drew　a　deep；　prolonged　sigh；　as　though　preparing　for　a　long　conversation。
As　soon　as　Natasha　had　gone；　all　Pierre’s　confusion　and　awkwardness　instantly　vanished；　and　were　replaced　by　excited　eagerness。
He　rapidly　moved　a　chair　close　up　to　Princess　Marya。　“Yes；　I　wanted　to　tell　you；”　he　said；　replying　to　her　look　as　though　to　words。　“Princess；　help　me。　What　am　I　to　do？　Can　I　hope？　Princess；　my　dear　friend；　listen　to　me。　I　know　all　about　it。　I　know　I　am　not　worthy　of　her；　I　know　that　it　is　impossible　to　talk　of　it　now。　But　I　want　to　be　a　brother　to　her。　No；　not　that；　I　don’t；　I　can’t　…”　He　paused　and　passed　his　hands　over　his　face　and　eyes。　“It’s　like　this；”　he　went　on；　making　an　evident　effort　to　speak　coherently。　“I　don’t　know　since　when　I　have　loved　her。　But　I　have　loved　her　alone；　only　her；　all　my　life；　and　I　love　her　so　that　I　cannot　imagine　life　without　her。　I　cannot　bring　myself　to　ask　for　her　hand　now；　but　the　thought　that；　perhaps；　she　might　be　my　wife　and　my　letting　slip　this　opportunity　…　opportunity　…　is　awful。　Tell　me；　can　I　hope？　Tell　me；　what　am　I　to　do？　Dear　princess；”　he　said；　after　a　brief　pause；　touching　her　hand　as　she　did　not　answer。
“I　am　thinking　of　what　you　have　just　told　me；”　answered　Princess　Marya。　“This　is　what　I　think。　You　are　right　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　…”　The　princess　paused。　She　had　meant　to　say　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　was　impossible；　but　she　stopped；　because　she　had　seen　during　the　last　three　days　by　the　sudden　change　in　Natasha　that　she　would　by　no　means　be　offended　if　Pierre　were　to　avow　his　love；　that；　in　fact；　it　was　the　one　thing　she　desired。
“To　speak　to　her　now　…　is　out　of　the　question；”　she　nevertheless　said。
“But　what　am　I　to　do？”
“Trust　the　matter　to　me；”　said　Princess　Marya。　“I　know　…”
Pierre　looked　into　her　eyes。　“Well；　well　…”　he　said。
“I　know　that　she　loves　…　that　she　will　love　you；”　Princess　Marya　corrected　herself。
She　had　hardly　uttered　the　words；　when　Pierre　leaped　up；　and　with　a　face　of　consternation　clutched　at　Princess　Marya’s　hand。
“What　makes　you　think　so？　You　think　I　may　hope？　You　think　so？　…”
“Yes；　I　think　so；”　said　Princess　Marya；　smiling。　“Write　to　her　parents。　And　leave　it　to　me。　I　will　tell　her　when　it　is　possible。　I　desire　it　to　come　to　pass。　And　I　have　a　feeling　in　my　heart　that　it　will　be　so。”
“No；　it　cannot　be！　How　happy　I　am！　But　it　cannot　be！　…　How　happy　I　am！　No；　it　cannot　be！”　Pierre　kept　saying；　kissing　Princess　Marya’s　hands。
“You　should　go　to　Petersburg；　it　will　be　better。　And　I　will　write　to　you；”　she　said。
“To　Petersburg？　I　am　to　go？　Yes；　very　well；　I　will　go。　But　I　can　come　and　see　you　to…morrow？”
Next　day　Pierre　came　to　say　good…bye。　Natasha　was　less　animated　than　on　the　preceding　days；　but　sometimes　that　day；　looking　into　her　eyes；　Pierre　felt　that　he　was　vanishing　away；　that　he　and　she　were　no　more；　that　there　was　nothing　but　happiness。　“Is　it　possible？　No；　it　cannot　be；”　he　said　to　himself　at　every　glance　she　gave；　every　gesture；　every　word；　that　filled　his　soul　with　gladness。
When；　on　saying　good…bye；　he　took　her　thin；　delicate　hand　he　unconsciously　held　it　somewhat　longer　in　his　own。
“Is　it　possible　that　that　hand；　that　face；　those　eyes；　all　that　treasure　of　womanly　charm；　so　far　removed　from　me；　is　it　possible　it　may　all　one　day　be　my　own　for　ever；　as　close　and　intimate　as　I　am　to　myself？　No；　it’s　surely　impossible？　…”
“Good…bye；　count；”　she　said　to　him　aloud。　“I　shall　so　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again；”　she　added　in　a　whisper。
And　those　simple　words；　and　the　look　in　the　eyes　and　the　face；　that　accompanied　them；　formed　the　subject　of　inexhaustible　reminiscences；　interpretations；　and　happy　dreams　for　Pierre　during　two　whole　months。　“I　shall　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again。”　“Yes；　yes；　how　did　she　say　it？　Yes。　‘I　shall　so　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again。’　Oh；　how　happy　I　am！　How　can　it　be　that　I　am　so　happy！”　Pierre　said　to　himself。


Chapter　19
THERE　was　nothing　in　Pierre’s　soul　now　like　what　had　passed　within　him　in　similar　circumstances　during　the　time　of　his　being　betrothed　to　Ellen。
He　did　not　go　over；　as　he　had　then；　with　a　sickening　sense　of　shame　the　words　he　had　uttered；　he　did　not　say　to　himself：　“Oh；　why　did　I　not　say　that；　and　why；　oh　why；　did　I　say　then：　I　love　you。”　Now；　on　the　contrary；　every　word　of　hers　and　of　his　own；　he　went　over　in　his　imagination　with　every　detail　of　look　and　smile；　and　wanted　to　add　nothing；　to　take　nothing　away；　he　longed　only　to　hear　it　over　again。　As　for　doubts—　whether　what　he　contemplated　doing　was　right　or　wr