战争与和平(上)-第157节

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“That’s　metempsychosis；”　said　Sonya；　who　had　been　good　at　lessons；　and　remembered　all　she　had　learned。　“The　Egyptians　used　to　believe　that　our　souls　had　been　in　animals；　and　would　go　into　animals　again。”
“No；　do　you　know；　I　don’t　believe　that　we　were　once　in　animals；”　said　Natasha；　still　in　the　same　whisper；　though　the　music　was　over；　“but　I　know　for　certain　that　we　were　once　angels　somewhere　beyond；　and　we　have　been　here；　and　that’s　why　we　remember　everything。…”
“May　I　join　you？”　said　Dimmler；　coming　up　quietly；　and　he　sat　down　by　them。
“If　we　had　been　angels；　why　should　we　have　fallen　lower？”　said　Nikolay。　“No；　that　can’t　be！”
“Not　lower…who　told　you　we　were　lower？…This　is　how　I　know　I　have　existed　before；”　Natasha　replied；　with　conviction：　“The　soul　is　immortal；　you　know…so；　if　I　am　to　live　for　ever；　I　have　lived　before　too；　I　have　lived　for　all　eternity。”
“Yes；　but　it’s　hard　for　us　to　conceive　of　eternity；”　said　Dimmler；　who　had　joined　the　young　people；　with　a　mildly　condescending　smile；　but　now　talked　as　quietly　and　seriously　as　they　did。
“Why　is　it　hard　to　conceive　of　eternity？”　said　Natasha。　“There　will　be　to…day；　and　there　will　be　to…morrow；　and　there　will　be　for　ever；　and　yesterday　has　been；　and　the　day　before。…”
“Natasha！　now　it’s　your　turn。　Sing　me　something；”　called　the　voice　of　the　countess。　“Why　are　you　sitting　there　so　quietly；　like　conspirators？”
“Mamma；　I　don’t　want　to　a　bit！”　said　Natasha；　but　she　got　up　as　she　said　it。
None　of　them；　not　even　Dimmler；　who　was　not　young；　wanted　to　break　off　the　conversation；　and　come　out　of　the　corner　of　the　divan…room；　but　Natasha　stood　up；　and　Nikolay　sat　down　to　the　clavichord。　Standing；　as　she　always　did；　in　the　middle　of　the　room；　and　choosing　the　place　where　the　resonance　was　greatest；　Natasha　began　singing　her　mother’s　favourite　song。
She　had　said　she　did　not　want　to　sing；　but　it　was　long　since　she　had　sung；　and　long　before　she　sang　again　as　she　sang　that　evening。　Count　Ilya　Andreitch　listened　to　her　singing　from　his　study；　where　he　was　talking　to　Mitenka；　and　like　a　schoolboy　in　haste　to　finish　his　lesson　and　run　out　to　play；　he　blundered　in　his　orders　to　the　steward；　and　at　last　paused；　and　Mitenka　stood　silent　and　smiling　before　him；　listening　too。　Nikolay　never　took　his　eyes　off　his　sister；　and　drew　his　breath　when　she　did。　Sonya；　as　she　listened；　thought　of　the　vast　difference　between　her　and　her　friend；　and　how　impossible　it　was　for　her　to　be　in　ever　so　slight　a　degree　fascinating　like　her　cousin。　The　old　countess　sat　with　a　blissful；　but　mournful　smile；　and　tears　in　her　eyes；　and　now　and　then　she　shook　her　head。　She；　too；　was　thinking　of　Natasha　and　of　her　own　youth；　and　of　how　there　was　something　terrible　and　unnatural　in　Natasha’s　marrying　Prince　Andrey。
Dimmler；　sitting　by　the　countess；　listened　with　closed　eyes。　“No；　countess；”　he　said；　at　last；　“that’s　a　European　talent；　she　has　no　need　of　teaching：　that　softness；　tenderness；　strength…”
“Ah；　I’m　afraid　for　her；　I’m　afraid；”　said　the　countess；　not　remembering　with　whom　she　was　speaking。　Her　motherly　instinct　told　her　that　there　was　too　much　of　something　in　Natasha；　and　that　it　would　prevent　her　being　happy。
Natasha　had　not　finished　singing　when　fourteen…year…old　Petya　ran　in　great　excitement　into　the　room　to　announce　the　arrival　of　the　mummers。
Natasha　stopped　abruptly。
“Idiot！”　she　screamed　at　her　brother。　She　ran　to　a　chair；　sank　into　it；　and　broke　into　such　violent　sobbing　that　it　was　a　long　while　before　she　could　stop。
“It’s　nothing；　mamma；　it’s　nothing　really；　it’s　all　right；　Petya　startled　me；”　she　said；　trying　to　smile；　but　the　tears　still　flowed；　and　the　sobs　still　choked　her。
The　mummers—house…serfs　dressed　up　as　bears；　Turks；　tavern…keepers；　and　ladies—awe…inspiring　or　comic　figures；　at　first　huddled　shyly　together　in　the　vestibule；　bringing　in　with　them　the　freshness　of　the　cold　outside；　and　a　feeling　of　gaiety。　Then；　hiding　behind　one　another；　they　crowded　together　in　the　big　hall；　and　at　first　with　constraint；　but　afterwards　with　more　liveliness　and　unanimity；　they　started　singing　songs；　and　performing　dances；　and　songs　with　dancing；　and　playing　Christmas　games。　The　countess　after　identifying　them；　and　laughing　at　their　costumes；　went　away　to　the　drawing…room。　Count　Ilya　Andreitch　sat　with　a　beaming　smile　in　the　big　hall；　praising　their　performances。　The　young　people　had　disappeared。
Half　an　hour　later　there　appeared　in　the　hall　among　the　other　mummers　an　old　lady　in　a　crinoline—this　was　Nikolay。　Petya　was　a　Turkish　lady；　Dimmler　was　a　clown；　Natasha　a　hussar；　and　Sonya　a　Circassian　with　eyebrows　and　moustaches　smudged　with　burnt　cork。
After　those　of　the　household　who　were　not　dressed　up　had　expressed　condescending　wonder　and　approval；　and　had　failed　to　recognise　them；　the　young　people　began　to　think　their　costumes　so　good　that　they　must　display　them　to　some　one　else。
Nikolay；　who　wanted　to　drive　them　all　in　his　sledge；　as　the　road　was　in　capital　condition；　proposed　to　drive　to　their　so…called　uncle’s；　taking　about　a　dozen　of　the　house…serfs　in　their　mummer…dress　with　them。
“No；　why　should　you　disturb　the　old　fellow？”　said　the　countess。　“Besides　you　wouldn’t　have　room　to　turn　round　there。　If　you　must　go；　let　it　be　to　the　Melyukovs’。”
Madame　Melyukov　was　a　widow　with　a　family　of　children　of　various　ages；　and　a　number　of　tutors　and　governesses　living　in　her　house；　four　versts　from　the　Rostovs’。
“That’s　a　good　idea；　my　love；”　the　old　count　assented；　beginning　to　be　aroused。　“Only　let　me　dress　up　and　I’ll　go　with　you。　I’ll　make　Pashette　open　her　eyes。”
But　the　countess　would　not　agree　to　the　count’s　going；　for　several　days　he　had　had　a　bad　leg。　It　was　decided　that　the　count　must　not　go；　but　that　if　Luisa　Ivanovna　（Madame　Schoss）　would　go　with　them；　the　young　ladies　might　go　to　Madame　Melyukov’s。　Sonya；　usually　so　shy　and　reticent；　was　more　urgent　than　any　in　persuading　Luisa　Ivanovna　not　to　refuse。
Sonya’s　disguise　was　the　best　of　all。　Her　moustaches　and　eyebrows　were　extraordinarily　becoming　to　her。　Every　one　told　her　she　looked　very　pretty；　and　she　was　in　a　mood　of　eager　energy　unlike　her。　Some　inner　voice　told　her　that　now　or　never　her　fate　would　be　sealed；　and　in　her　masculine　attire　she　seemed　quite　another　person。　Luisa　Ivanovna　consented　to　go；　and　half　an　hour　later　four　sledges　with　bells　drove　up　to　the　steps；　their　runners　crunching；　with　a　clanging　sound；　over　the　frozen　snow。
Natasha　was　foremost　in　setting　the　tone　of　holiday　gaiety；　and　that　gaiety；　reflected　from　one　to　another；　grew　wilder　and　wilder；　and　reached　its　climax　when　they　all　went　out　into　the　frost；　and　talking；　and　calling　to　one　another；　laughing　and　shouting；　got　into　the　sledges。
Two　of　the　sledges　were　the　common　household　sledges；　the　third　was　the　old　count’s；　with　a　trotting　horse　from　Orlov’s　famous　stud；　the　fourth；　Nikolay’s　own；　with　his　own　short；　shaggy；　raven　horse　in　the　shafts。　Nikolay；　in　his　old　lady’s　crinoline　and　a　hussar’s　cloak　belted　over　it；　stood　up　in　the　middle　of　the　sledge　picking　up　the　reins。　It　was　so　light　that　he　could　see　the　metal　discs　of　the　harness　shining　in　the　moonlight；　and　the　eyes　of　the　horses　looking　round　in　alarm　at　the　noise　made　by　the　party　under　the　portico　of　the　approach。
Sonya；　Natasha；　Madame　Schoss；　and　two　maids　got　into　Nikolay’s　sledge。　In　the　count’s　sledge　were　Dimmler　with　his　wife　and　Petya；　the　other　mummers　were　seated　in　the　other　two　sledges。
“You　go　ahead；　Zahar！”　shouted　Nikolay　to　his　father’s　coachman；　so　as　to　have　a　chance　of　overtaking　him　on　the　road。
The　count’s　sledge　with　Dimmler　and　the　others　of　his　party　started　forward；　its　runners　creaking　as　though　they　were　frozen　to　the　snow；　and　the　deep…toned　bell　clanging。　The　trace…horses　pressed　close　to　the　shafts　and　sticking　in　the　snow　kicked　it　up；　hard　and　glittering　as　sugar。
Nikolay　followed　the　first　sledge：　behind　him　he　heard　the　noise　and　crunch　of　the　other　two。　At　first　they　drove　at　a　slow　trot　along　the　narrow　road。　As　they　drove　by　the　garden；　the　shadows　of　the　leafless　trees　often　lay　right　across　the　road　and　hid　the　bright　moonlight。　But　as　soon　as　they　were　out　of　their　grounds；　the　snowy　plain；　glittering　like　a　diamond　with　bluish　lights　in　it；　lay　stretched　out　on　all　sides；　all　motionless　and　bathed　in　moonlight。　Now　and　again　a　hole　gave　the　first　sledge　a　jolt；　the　next　was　jolted　in　just　the　same　way；　and　the　next；　and　the　sledges　followed　one　another；　rudely　breaking　the　iron…bound　stillness。
“A　hare’s　track；　a　lot　of　tracks！”　Natasha’s　voice　rang　out　in　the　frost…bound　air。
“How　light　it　is；　Nikolenka；”　said　the　voice　of　Sonya。
Nikolay　looked　round　at　Sonya；　and　bent　down　to　look　at　her　face　closer。　It　was　a　quite　new；　charming　face　with　black　moustaches；　and　eyebrows　that　peeped　up　at　him　from　the　sable　fur—so　close　yet　so　distant—in　the　moonlight。
“That　used　to　be　Sonya；”　thought　Nikolay。　He　looked　closer　at　her　and　smiled。
“What　is　it；　Nikolenka？”
“Nothing；”　he　said；　and　turned　to　his　horses　again。
As　they　came　out　on　the　trodden　highroad；　polished　by　sledge　runners；　and　all　cut　up　by　the　tracks　of　spiked　horseshoes　visible　in　the