战争与和平(上)-第334节

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ly　friendly　feeling　towards　every　one　he　met。　But　unconsciously　he　was　a　little　on　his　guard　with　people　to　avoid　fettering　his　freedom　in　any　way。　To　all　the　questions　put　to　him—important　or　trivial—whether　they　asked　him　where　he　meant　to　live；　whether　he　were　going　to　build；　when　he　was　starting　for　Petersburg；　or　whether　he　could　take　a　parcel　there　for　someone；　he　answered；　“Yes；　very　possibly；”　“I　dare　say　I　may；”　and　so　on。
He　heard　that　the　Rostovs　were　in　Kostroma；　and　the　thought　of　Natasha　rarely　came　to　his　mind；　and　when　it　did　occur　to　him　it　was　as　a　pleasant　memory　of　time　long　past。　He　felt　himself　set　free；　not　only　from　the　cares　of　daily　life；　but　also　from　that　feeling　which；　it　seemed　to　him；　he　had　voluntarily　brought　upon　himself。
The　third　day　after　his　arrival　in　Moscow　he　learnt　from　the　Drubetskoys　that　Princess　Marya　was　in　Moscow。　The　death；　the　sufferings；　and　the　last　days　of　Prince　Andrey　had　often　engaged　Pierre’s　thoughts；　and　now　recurred　to　him　with　fresh　vividness。　He　heard　at　dinner　that　Princess　Marya　was　in　Moscow；　and　living　in　her　own　house　in　Vosdvizhenka；　which　had　escaped　the　fire；　and　he　went　to　call　upon　her　the　same　evening。
On　the　way　to　Princess　Marya’s　Pierre’s　mind　was　full　of　Prince　Andrey；　of　his　friendship　for　him；　of　the　different　occasions　when　they　had　met；　and　especially　of　their　last　interview　at　Borodino。
“Can　he　possibly　have　died　in　the　bitter　mood　he　was　in　then？　Was　not　the　meaning　of　life　revealed　to　him　before　death？”　Pierre　wondered。　He　thought　of　Karataev；　of　his　death；　and　unconsciously　compared　those　two　men；　so　different；　and　yet　alike；　in　the　love　he　had　felt　for　both；　and　in　that　both　had　lived；　and　both　were　dead。
In　the　most　serious　frame　of　mind　Pierre　drove　up　to　the　old　prince’s　house。　The　house　had　remained　entire。　There　were　traces　to　be　seen　of　the　havoc　wrought　in　it；　but　the　character　of　the　house　was　unchanged。　The　old　footman　met　Pierre　with　a　stern　face；　that　seemed　to　wish　to　make　the　guest　feel　that　the　absence　of　the　old　prince　did　make　no　difference　in　the　severe　routine　of　the　household；　and　said　that　the　princess　had　retired　to　her　own　apartments；　and　received　on　Sundays。
“Take　my　name　to　her；　perhaps　she　will　see　me；”　said　Pierre。
“Yes；　your　excellency；”　answered　the　footman；　“kindly　walk　into　the　portrait…gallery。”
A　few　minutes　later　the　footman　returned　accompanied　by　Dessalle。　Dessalle　brought　a　message　from　the　princess　that　she　would　be　very　glad　to　see　Pierre；　and　begged　him；　if　he　would　excuse　the　lack　of　ceremony；　to　come　upstairs　to　her　apartment。
In　a　low…pitched　room；　lighted　by　a　single　candle；　he　found　the　princess；　and　some　one　with　her　in　a　black　dress。　Pierre　recollected　that　the　princess　had　always　had　lady…companions　of　some　sort　with　her；　but　who　those　companions　were；　and　what　they　were　like；　he　did　not　remember。　“That　is　one　of　her　companions；”　he　thought；　glancing　at　the　lady　in　the　black　dress。
The　princess　rose　swiftly　to　meet　him；　and　held　out　her　hand。
“Yes；”　she　said；　scrutinising　his　altered　face；　after　he　had　kissed　her　hand；　“so　this　is　how　we　meet　again。　He　often　talked　of　you　at　the　last；”　she　said；　turning　her　eyes　from　Pierre　to　the　companion　with　a　sort　of　bashfulness　that　struck　him。
“I　was　so　glad　to　hear　of　your　safety。　It　was　the　only　piece　of　good　news　we　had　had　for　a　long　time。”
Again　the　princess　glanced　still　more　uneasily　at　the　companion；　and　would　have　spoken；　but　Pierre　interrupted　her。
“Only　imagine；　I　knew　nothing　about　him；”　he　said。　“I　believed　he　had　been　killed。　All　I　have　heard　has　been　through　others；　at　third…hand。　I　only　know　that　he　fell　in　with　the　Rostovs。…　What　a　strange　stroke　of　destiny！”
Pierre　talked　rapidly；　eagerly。　He　glanced　once　at　the　companion’s　face；　saw　attentively　friendly；　inquiring　eyes　fixed　upon　him；　and　as　often　happens；　while　talking；　he　vaguely　felt　that　this　lady…companion　in　the　black　dress　was　a　good；　kind；　friendly　creature；　who　need　be　no　hindrance　to　his　talking　freely　to　Princess　Marya。
But　as　he　uttered　the　last　words　about　the　Rostovs；　the　embarrassment　in　Princess　Marya’s　face　became　even　more　marked。　Again　her　eyes　shifted　from　Pierre’s　face　to　the　face　of　the　lady　in　the　black　dress；　and　she　said：
“You　don’t　recognise　her？”
Pierre　glanced　once　more　at　the　pale；　thin　face　of　her　companion；　with　its　black　eyes　and　strange　mouth。　Something　very　near　to　him；　long　forgotten；　and　more　than　sweet；　gazed　at　him　out　of　those　intent　eyes。
“But　no；　it　cannot　be；”　he　thought。　“That　stern；　thin；　pale　face　that　looks　so　much　older？　It　cannot　be　she。　It　is　only　a　reminder　of　it。”
But　at　that　moment　Princess　Marya　said；　“Natasha！”
And　the　face　with　the　intent　eyes—painfully；　with　effort；　like　a　rusty　door　opening—smiled；　and　through　that　opened　door　there　floated　to　Pierre　a　sudden；　overwhelming　rush　of　long…forgotten　bliss；　of　which；　especially　now；　he　had　no　thought。　It　breathed　upon　him；　overwhelmed　him；　and　swallowed　him　up　entirely。　When　she　smiled；　there　could　be　no　doubt。　It　was　Natasha；　and　he　loved　her。
In　that　first　minute　Pierre　unwittingly　betrayed　to　her　and　to　Princess　Marya；　and　most　of　all　to　himself；　the　secret　of　which　he　had　been　himself　unaware。　He　flushed　joyfully；　and　with　agonising　distress。　He　tried　to　conceal　his　emotion。　But　the　more　he　tried　to　conceal　it；　the　more　clearly—more　clearly　than　if　he　had　uttered　the　most　definite　words—he　betrayed　to　himself；　and　to　her；　and　to　Princess　Marya；　that　he　loved　her。
“No；　it　is　nothing；　it’s　the　sudden　surprise；”　Pierre　thought。　But　as　soon　as　he　tried　to　go　on　with　the　conversation　with　Princess　Marya；　he　glanced　again　at　Natasha；　and　a　still　deeper　flush　spread　over　his　face；　and　a　still　more　violent　wave　of　rapture　and　terror　flooded　his　heart。　He　stammered　in　his　speech；　and　stopped　short　in　the　middle　of　a　sentence。
Pierre　had　not　noticed　Natasha　because　he　had　never　expected　to　see　her　here；　but　he　had　not　recognised　her　because　the　change　that　had　taken　place　in　her　since　he　had　seen　her　was　immense。　She　had　grown　thin　and　pale。　But　it　was　not　that　that　made　her　unrecognisable。　No　one　could　have　recognised　her　at　the　moment　when　he　entered；　because　when　he　first　glanced　at　her　there　was　no　trace　of　a　smile　in　the　eyes　that　in　old　days　had　always　beamed　with　a　suppressed　smile　of　the　joy　of　life。　They　were　intent；　kindly　eyes；　full　of　mournful　inquiry；　and　nothing　more。
Pierre’s　embarrassment　was　not　reflected　in　a　corresponding　embarrassment　in　Natasha；　but　only　in　a　look　of　pleasure；　that　faintly　lighted　up　her　whole　face。


Chapter　16
“SHE　has　come　to　stay　with　me；”　said　Princess　Marya。　“The　count　and　the　countess　will　be　here　in　a　few　days。　The　countess　is　in　a　terrible　state。　But　Natasha　herself　had　to　see　the　doctors。　They　made　her　come　away　with　me。”
“Yes。　Is　there　a　family　without　its　own　sorrow？”　said　Pierre；　turning　to　Natasha。　“You　know　it　happened　the　very　day　we　were　rescued。　I　saw　him。　What　a　splendid　boy　he　was！”
Natasha　looked　at　him；　and；　in　answer　to　his　words；　her　eyes　only　opened　wider　and　grew　brighter。
“What　can　one　say；　or　think；　to　give　comfort？”　said　Pierre。　“Nothing。　Why　had　he　to　die；　such　a　noble　boy；　so　full　of　life？”
“Yes；　in　these　days　it　would　be　hard　to　live　without　faith　…”　said　Princess　Marya。
“Yes；　yes。　That　is　true；　indeed；”　Pierre　put　in　hurriedly。
“How　so？”　Natasha　asked；　looking　intently　into　Pierre’s　eyes。
“How　so？”　said　Princess　Marya。　“Why；　only　the　thought　of　what　awaits　…”
Natasha；　not　heeding　Princess　Marya’s　words；　looked　again　inquiringly　at　Pierre。
“And　because；”　Pierre　went　on；　“only　one　who　believes　that　there　is　a　God　guiding　our　lives　can　bear　such　a　loss　as　hers；　and　…　yours；”　said　Pierre。
Natasha　opened　her　mouth；　as　though　she　would　say　something；　but　she　suddenly　stopped。
Pierre　made　haste　to　turn　away　from　her；　and　to　address　Princess　Marya　again　with　a　question　about　the　last　days　of　his　friend’s　life。　Pierre’s　embarrassment　had　by　now　almost　disappeared；　but　at　the　same　time　he　felt　that　all　his　former　freedom　had　vanished　too。　He　felt　that　there　was　now　a　judge　criticising　every　word；　every　action　of　his；　a　judge　whose　verdict　was　of　greater　consequence　to　him　than　the　verdict　of　all　the　people　in　the　world。　As　he　talked　now　he　was　considering　the　impression　his　words　were　making　on　Natasha　as　he　uttered　them。　He　did　not　intentionally　say　what　might　please　her；　but　whatever　he　said；　he　looked　at　himself　from　her　point　of　view。
With　the　unwillingness　usual　in　such　cases；　Princess　Marya　began　telling　Pierre　of　the　position　in　which　she　had　found　her　brother。　But　Pierre’s　questions；　his　eagerly　restless　glance；　his　face　quivering　with　emotion；　gradually　induced　her　to　go　into　details　which　she　shrank；　for　her　own　sake；　from　recalling　to　her　imagination。
“Yes；　yes；　…”　said　Pierre；　bending　forward　over　Princess　Marya；　and　eagerly　drinking　in　her　words。　“Yes；　yes。　So　he　found　peace？　He　was　softened？　He　was　always　striving　with　his　whole　soul　for　one　thing　only：　to　be　entirely　good；　so　that　he　could　not　dread　death。　The　defects　that　were　in　him—if　he　had　any—did　not　come　from　himself。　So　he　was　softened？”　he