战争与和平(上)-第69章

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　the　new　military　governor…general　of　Petersburg；　had　received　and　read　a　rescript—much　talked　of　at　the　time—from　the　Emperor　Alexander　Pavlovitch。　The　Emperor；　writing　from　the　army　to　Sergey　Kuzmitch；　had　said　that　on　all　sides　he　was　receiving　proofs　of　the　devotion　of　his　people；　and　that　the　testimony　from　Petersburg　was　particularly　gratifying　to　him；　that　he　was　proud　of　the　honour　of　being　at　the　head　of　such　a　people；　and　would　do　his　best　to　be　worthy　of　it。　This　rescript　began　with　the　words：　“Sergey　Kuzmitch。　From　all　sides　reports　reach　me；”　etc。
“So　that　he　never　got　further　with　it　than　‘Sergey　Kuzmitch’？”　one　lady　asked。
“No；　no；　not　a　syllable；”　Prince　Vassily　answered　laughing。　“　‘Sergey　Kuzmitch…from　all　sides。’　‘From　all　sides…Sergey　Kuzmitch。…’　Poor　Vyazmitinov　could　not　get　any　further。　Several　times　he　started　upon　the　letter　again；　but　no　sooner　did　he　utter　‘Sergey；’…than　a　sniff…‘Kuz…mi…itch’—tears…and　‘from　all　sides’　is　smothered　in　sobs；　and　he　can　get　no　further。　And　again　the　handkerchief　and　again　‘Sergey　Kuzmitch　from　all　sides’　and　tears；…so　that　we　begged　some　one　else　to　read　it。…”
“　‘Kuzmitch…from　all　sides’…and　tears。…”　some　one　repeated；　laughing。
“Don’t　be　naughty；”　said　Anna　Pavlovna；　from　the　other　end　of　the　table；　shaking　her　finger　at　him。　“He　is　such　a　worthy；　excellent　man；　our　good　Vyazmitinov。”
Every　one　laughed　heartily。　At　the　upper　end　of　the　table；　the　place　of　honour；　every　one　seemed　in　good　spirits；　under　the　influence　of　various　enlivening　tendencies。　Only　Pierre　and　Ellen　sat　mutely　side　by　side　almost　at　the　bottom　of　the　table。　The　faces　of　both　wore　a　restrained　but　beaming　smile　that　had　no　connection　with　Sergey　Kuzmitch—the　smile　of　bashfulness　at　their　own　feelings。　Gaily　as　the　others　laughed　and　talked　and　jested；　appetising　as　were　the　Rhine　wine；　the　sauté；　and　the　ices　they　were　discussing；　carefully　as　they　avoided　glancing　at　the　young　couple；　heedless　and　unobservant　as　they　seemed　of　them；　yet　it　was　somehow　perceptible　from　the　glances　stolen　at　times　at　them；　that　the　anecdote　about　Sergey　Kuzmitch；　and　the　laughter　and　the　dishes；　were　all　affectation；　and　that　the　whole　attention　of　all　the　party　was　really　concentrated　simply　on　that　pair—Pierre　and　Ellen。　Prince　Vassily　mimicked　the　sniffs　of　Sergey　Kuzmitch；　and　at　the　same　time　avoided　glancing　at　his　daughter；　and　at　the　very　time　that　he　was　laughing；　his　expression　seemed　to　say：　“Yes；　yes；　it’s　all　going　well；　it　will　all　be　settled　to…day。”　Anna　Pavlovna　shook　her　finger　at　him　for　laughing　at　“our　good　Vyazmitinov；”　but　in　her　eyes；　which　at　that　second　flashed　a　glance　in　Pierre’s　direction；　Prince　Vassily　read　congratulation　on　his　future　son…in…law　and　his　daughter’s　felicity。　Old　Princess　Kuragin；　offering　wine　to　the　lady　next　her　with　a　pensive　sigh；　looking　angrily　at　her　daughter；　seemed　in　that　sigh　to　be　saying：　“Yes；　there’s　nothing　left　for　you　and　me　now；　my　dear；　but　to　drink　sweet　wine；　now　that　the　time　has　come　for　the　young　people　to　be　so　indecently；　provokingly　happy！”　“And　what　stupid　stuff　it　all　is　that　I’m　talking　about；　as　though　it　interested　me；”　thought　the　diplomat；　glancing　at　the　happy　faces　of　the　lovers。　“That’s　happiness！”
Into　the　midst　of　the　petty　trivialities；　the　conventional　interests；　which　made　the　common　tie　uniting　that　company；　had　fallen　the　simple　feeling　of　the　attraction　of　two　beautiful　and　healthy　young　creatures　to　one　another。　And　this　human　feeling　dominated　everything　and　triumphed　over　all　their　conventional　chatter。　The　jests　fell　flat；　the　news　was　not　interesting；　the　liveliness　was　unmistakably　forced。　Not　the　guests　only；　but　the　footmen　waiting　at　table　seemed　to　feel　the　same　and　forget　their　duties；　glancing　at　the　lovely　Ellen　with　her　radiant　face　and　the　broad；　red；　happy　and　uneasy　face　of　Pierre。　The　very　light　of　the　candles　seemed　concentrated　on　those　two　happy　faces。
Pierre　felt　that　he　was　the　centre　of　it　all；　and　this　position　both　pleased　him　and　embarrassed　him。　He　was　like　a　man　absorbed　in　some　engrossing　occupation。　He　had　no　clear　sight；　nor　hearing；　no　understanding　of　anything。　Only　from　time　to　time　disconnected　ideas　and　impressions　of　the　reality　flashed　unexpectedly　into　his　mind。
“So　it　is　all　over！”　he　thought。　“And　how　has　it　all　been　done？　So　quickly！　Now　I　know　that　not　for　her　sake；　nor　for　my　sake　alone；　but　for　every　one　it　must　inevitably　come　to　pass。　They　all　expect　it　so；　they　are　all　so　convinced　that　it　will　be；　that　I　cannot；　I　cannot；　disappoint　them。　But　how　will　it　be？　I　don’t　know；　but　it　will　be　infallibly；　it　will　be！”　mused　Pierre；　glancing　at　the　dazzling　shoulders　that　were　so　close　to　his　eyes。
Then　he　suddenly　felt　a　vague　shame。　He　felt　awkward　at　being　the　sole　object　of　the　general　attention；　at　being　a　happy　man　in　the　eyes　of　others；　with　his　ugly　face　being　a　sort　of　Paris　in　possession　of　a　Helen。　“But；　no　doubt；　it’s　always　like　this；　and　must　be　so；”　he　consoled　himself。　“And　yet　what　have　I　done　to　bring　it　about？　When　did　it　begin？　I　came　here　from　Moscow　with　Prince　Vassily；　then　there　was　nothing。　Afterwards　what　reason　was　there　for　not　staying　with　him？　Then　I　played　cards　with　her　and　picked　up　her　reticule；　and　went　skating　with　her。　When　did　it　begin；　when　did　it　all　come　about？”　And　here　he　was　sitting　beside　her　as　her　betrothed；　hearing；　seeing；　feeling　her　closeness；　her　breathing；　her　movements；　her　beauty。　Then　it　suddenly　seemed　to　him　that　it　was　not　she；　but　he　who　was　himself　extraordinarily　beautiful；　that　that　was　why　they　were　looking　at　him　so；　and　he；　happy　in　the　general　admiration；　was　drawing　himself　up；　lifting　his　head　and　rejoicing　in　his　happiness。　All　at　once　he　heard　a　voice；　a　familiar　voice；　addressing　him　for　the　second　time。
But　Pierre　was　so　absorbed　that　he　did　not　understand　what　was　said　to　him。
“I’m　asking　you；　when　you　heard　last　from　Bolkonsky；”　Prince　Vassily　repeated　a　third　time。　“How　absent…minded　you　are；　my　dear　boy。”　Prince　Vassily　smiled；　and　Pierre　saw　that　every　one；　every　one　was　smiling　at　him　and　at　Ellen。
“Well；　what　of　it；　since　you　all　know；”　Pierre　was　saying　to　himself。　“What　of　it？　it’s　the　truth；”　and　he　smiled　himself　his　gentle；　childlike　smile；　and　Ellen　smiled。
“When　did　you　get　a　letter？　From　Olmütz？”　repeated　Prince　Vassily；　who　wanted　to　know　in　order　to　settle　some　disputed　question。
“How　can　people　talk　and　think　of　such　trifles？”　thought　Pierre。
“Yes；　from　Olmütz；”　he　answered　with　a　sigh。
Pierre　took　his　lady　in　behind　the　rest　from　supper　to　the　drawing…room。　The　guests　began　to　take　leave；　and　several　went　away　without　saying　good…bye　to　Ellen。　As　though　unwilling　to　take　her　away　from　a　serious　occupation；　several　went　up　to　her　for　an　instant　and　made　haste　to　retire　again；　refusing　to　let　her　accompany　them　out。　The　diplomat　went　out　of　the　drawing…room　in　dumb　dejection。　He　felt　vividly　all　the　vanity　of　his　diplomatic　career　by　comparison　with　Pierre’s　happiness。　The　old　general　growled　angrily　at　his　wife　when　she　inquired　how　his　leg　was。　“The　old　fool；”　he　thought。　“Look　at　Elena　Vassilyevna；　she’ll　be　beautiful　at　fifty。”
“I　believe　I　may　congratulate　you；”　Anna　Pavlovna　whispered　to　Princess　Kuragin；　as　she　kissed　her　warmly。　“If　I　hadn’t　a　headache；　I　would　stay　on。”　The　princess　made　no　answer；　she　was　tormented　by　envy　of　her　daughter’s　happiness。
While　the　guests　were　taking　leave；　Pierre　was　left　a　long　while　alone　with　Ellen　in　the　little　drawing…room；　where　they　were　sitting。　Often　before；　during　the　last　six　weeks；　he　had　been　left　alone　with　Ellen；　but　he　had　never　spoken　of　love　to　her。　Now　he　felt　that　this　was　inevitable；　but　he　could　not　make　up　his　mind　to　this　final　step。　He　felt　ashamed；　it　seemed　to　him　that　here　at　Ellen’s　side　he　was　filling　some　other　man’s　place。　“This　happiness　is　not　for　you；”　some　inner　voice　said　to　him。　“This　happiness　is　for　those　who　have　not　in　them　what　you　have　within　you。”　But　he　had　to　say　something；　and　he　began　to　speak。　He　asked　her　whether　she　had　enjoyed　the　evening。　With　her　habitual　directness　in　replying；　s