战争与和平(上)-第58节

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en　so　excited　that　till　that　instant　he　had　not　had　time　to　think　of　that。　The　officers’　laughter　had　bewildered　him　still　more。　He　stood　before　Bagration；　his　lower　jaw　quivering；　and　could　scarcely　articulate：
“I　don’t　know　…　your　excellency　…　I　hadn’t　the　men；　your　excellency。”
“You　could　have　got　them　from　the　battalions　that　were　covering　your　position！”　That　there　were　no　battalions　there　was　what　Tushin　did　not　say；　though　it　was　the　fact。　He　was　afraid　of　getting　another　officer　into　trouble　by　saying　that；　and　without　uttering　a　word　he　gazed　straight　into　Bagration’s　face；　as　a　confused　schoolboy　gazes　at　the　face　of　an　examiner。
The　silence　was　rather　a　lengthy　one。　Prince　Bagration；　though　he　had　no　wish　to　be　severe；　apparently　found　nothing　to　say；　the　others　did　not　venture　to　intervene。　Prince　Andrey　was　looking　from　under　his　brows　at　Tushin　and　his　fingers　moved　nervously。
“Your　excellency；”　Prince　Andrey　broke　the　silence　with　his　abrupt　voice；　“you　sent　me　to　Captain　Tushin’s　battery。　I　went　there　and　found　two…thirds　of　the　men　and　horses　killed；　two　cannons　disabled　and　no　forces　near　to　defend　them。”
Prince　Bagration　and　Tushin　looked　now　with　equal　intensity　at　Bolkonsky；　as　he　went　on　speaking　with　suppressed　emotion。
“And　if　your　excellency　will　permit　me　to　express　my　opinion；”　he　went　on；　“we　owe　the　success　of　the　day　more　to　the　action　of　that　battery　and　the　heroic　steadiness　of　Captain　Tushin　and　his　men　than　to　anything　else；”　said　Prince　Andrey；　and　he　got　up　at　once　and　walked　away　from　the　table；　without　waiting　for　a　reply。
Prince　Bagration　looked　at　Tushin　and；　apparently　loath　to　express　his　disbelief　in　Bolkonsky’s　off…handed　judgment；　yet　unable　to　put　complete　faith　in　it；　he　bent　his　head　and　said　to　Tushin　that　he　could　go。　Prince　Andrey　walked　out　after　him。
“Thanks；　my　dear　fellow；　you　got　me　out　of　a　scrape；”　Tushin　said　to　him。
Prince　Andrey　looked　at　Tushin；　and　walked　away　without　uttering　a　word。　Prince　Andrey　felt　bitter　and　melancholy。　It　was　all　so　strange；　so　unlike　what　he　had　been　hoping　for。
“Who　are　they？　Why　are　they　here？　What　do　they　want？　And　when　will　it　all　end？”　thought　Rostov；　looking　at　the　shadowy　figures　that　kept　flitting　before　his　eyes。　The　pain　in　his　arm　became　even　more　agonising。　He　was　heavy　with　sleep；　crimson　circles　danced　before　his　eyes；　and　the　impression　of　these　voices　and　these　faces　and　the　sense　of　his　loneliness　all　blended　with　the　misery　of　the　pain。　It　was　they；　these　soldiers；　wounded　and　unhurt　alike；　it　was　they　crushing　and　weighing　upon　him；　and　twisting　his　veins　and　burning　the　flesh　in　his　sprained　arm　and　shoulder。　To　get　rid　of　them　he　closed　his　eyes。
He　dozed　off　for　a　minute；　but　in　that　brief　interval　he　dreamed　of　innumerable　things。　He　saw　his　mother　and　her　large；　white　hand；　he　saw　Sonya’s　thin　shoulders；　Natasha’s　eyes　and　her　laugh；　and　Denisov　with　his　voice　and　his　whiskers；　and　Telyanin；　and　all　the　affair　with　Telyanin　and　Bogdanitch。　All　that　affair　was　inextricably　mixed　up　with　this　soldier　with　the　harsh　voice；　and　that　affair　and　this　soldier　here　were　so　agonisingly；　so　ruthlessly　pulling；　crushing；　and　twisting　his　arm　always　in　the　same　direction。　He　was　trying　to　get　away　from　them；　but　they　would　not　let　go　of　his　shoulder　for　a　second。　It　would　not　ache；　it　would　be　all　right　if　they　wouldn’t　drag　at　it；　but　there　was　no　getting　rid　of　them。
He　opened　his　eyes　and　looked　upwards。　The　black　pall　of　darkness　hung　only　a　few　feet　above　the　light　of　the　fire。　In　the　light　fluttered　tiny　flakes　of　falling　snow。　Tushin　had　not　returned；　the　doctor　had　not　come。　He　was　alone；　only　a　soldier　was　sitting　now　naked　on　the　other　side　of　the　fire；　warming　his　thin；　yellow　body。
“Nobody　cares　for　me！”　thought　Rostov。　“No　one　to　help　me；　no　one　to　feel　sorry　for　me。　And　I　too　was　once　at　home；　and　strong；　and　happy　and　loved；”　he　sighed；　and　with　the　sigh　unconsciously　he　moaned。
“In　pain；　eh？”　asked　the　soldier；　shaking　his　shirt　out　before　the　fire；　and　without　waiting　for　an　answer；　he　added　huskily：　“Ah；　what　a　lot　of　fellows　done　for　to…day—awful！”
Rostov　did　not　hear　the　soldier。　He　gazed　at　the　snowflakes　whirling　over　the　fire　and　thought　of　the　Russian　winter　with　his　warm；　brightly　lighted　home；　his　cosy　fur　cloak；　his　swift　sledge；　his　good　health；　and　all　the　love　and　tenderness　of　his　family。　“And　what　did　I　come　here　for！”　he　wondered。
On　the　next　day；　the　French　did　not　renew　the　attack　and　the　remnant　of　Bagration’s　detachment　joined　Kutuzov’s　army。


Part　Three
Chapter　1
PRINCE　VASSILY　used　not　to　think　over　his　plans。　Still　less　did　he　think　of　doing　harm　to　others　for　the　sake　of　his　own　interest。　He　was　simply　a　man　of　the　world；　who　had　been　successful　in　the　world；　and　had　formed　a　habit　of　being　so。　Various　plans　and　calculations　were　continually　forming　in　his　mind；　arising　from　circumstances　and　the　persons　he　met；　but　he　never　deliberately　considered　them；　though　they　constituted　the　whole　interest　of　his　life。　Of　such　plans　and　calculations　he　had　not　one　or　two；　but　dozens　in　train　at　once；　some　of　them　only　beginning　to　occur　to　him；　others　attaining　their　aim；　others　again　coming　to　nothing。　He　never　said　to　himself；　for　instance：　“That　man　is　now　in　power；　I　must　secure　his　friendship　and　confidence；　and　through　him　obtain　a　grant　from　the　Single…Assistance　Fund”；　nor；　“Now　Pierre　is　a　wealthy　man；　I　must　entice　him　to　marry　my　daughter　and　borrow　the　forty　thousand　I　need。”　But　the　man　in　power　met　him；　and　at　the　instant　his　instinct　told　him　that　that　man　might　be　of　use；　and　Prince　Vassily　made　friends　with　him；　and　at　the　first　opportunity　by　instinct；　without　previous　consideration；　flattered　him；　became　intimate　with　him；　and　told　him　of　what　he　wanted。
Pierre　was　ready　at　hand　in　Moscow；　and　Prince　Vassily　secured　an　appointment　as　gentleman　of　the　bedchamber　for　him；　a　position　at　that　time　reckoned　equal　in　status　to　that　of　a　councillor　of　state；　and　insisted　on　the　young　man’s　travelling　with　him　to　Petersburg；　and　staying　at　his　house。　Without　apparent　design；　but　yet　with　unhesitating　conviction　that　it　was　the　right　thing；　Prince　Vassily　did　everything　to　ensure　Pierre’s　marrying　his　daughter。　If　Prince　Vassily　had　definitely　reflected　upon　his　plans　beforehand；　he　could　not　have　been　so　natural　in　his　behaviour　and　so　straightforward　and　familiar　in　his　relations　with　every　one；　of　higher　and　of　lower　rank　than　himself。　Something　drew　him　infallibly　towards　men　richer　or　more　powerful　than　himself；　and　he　was　endowed　with　a　rare　instinct　for　hitting　on　precisely　the　moment　when　he　should　and　could　make　use　of　such　persons。
Pierre；　on　unexpectedly　becoming　rich　and　Count　Bezuhov；　after　his　lonely　and　careless　manner　of　life；　felt　so　surrounded；　so　occupied；　that　he　never　succeeded　in　being　by　himself　except　in　his　bed。　He　had　to　sign　papers；　to　present　himself　at　legal　institutions；　of　the　significance　of　which　he　had　no　definite　idea；　to　make　some　inquiry　of　his　chief　steward；　to　visit　his　estate　near　Moscow；　and　to　receive　a　great　number　of　persons；　who　previously　had　not　cared　to　be　aware　of　his　existence；　but　now　would　have　been　hurt　and　offended　if　he　had　not　chosen　to　see　them。　All　these　various　people；　business　men；　relations；　acquaintances；　were　all　equally　friendly　and　well　disposed　towards　the　young　heir。　They　were　all　obviously　and　unhesitatingly　convinced　of　Pierre’s　noble　qualities。　He　was　continually　hearing　phrases；　such　as；　“With　your　exceptionally　kindly　disposition”；　or；　“Considering　your　excellent　heart”；　or；　“You　are　so　pure…minded　yourself；　count　…”　or；　“If　he　were　as　clever　as　you；”　and　so　on；　so　that　he　was　beginning　genuinely　to　believe　in　his　own　exceptional　goodness　and　his　own　exceptional　intelligence；　the　more　so；　as　at　the　bottom　of　his　heart　it　had　always　seemed　to　him　that　he　really　was　very　good…natured　and　very　intelligent。　Even　people；　who　had　before　been　spiteful　and　openly　hostile　to　him；　became　tender　and　affectionate。　The　hitherto　ill…tempered；　eldest　princess；　with　the　long　waist　and　the　hair　plastered　down　like　a　doll；　had　gone　into　Pierre’s　room　after　the　funeral。　Dropping　her　eyes　and　repeatedly　turning　crimson；　she　said　that　she　very　much　regretted　the　misunderstanding　that　had　arisen　between　them；　and　that　now　she　felt　she　had　no　right　to　ask　him　for　anything　except　permission；　after　the　blow　that　had　befallen　her；　to　remain　for　a　few　weeks　longer　in　the　house　which　she　was　so　fond　of；　and　in　which　she　had　made　such　sacrifices。　She　could　not　control　herself；　and　wept　at　these　words。　Touched　at　seeing　the　statue…like　princess　so　changed；　Pierre　took　her　by　the　hand　and　begged　her　pardon；　though　he　could　not　have　said　what　for。　From　that　day　the　princess　began　knitting　a　striped　scarf　for　Pierre；　and　was　completely　changed　towards　him。
“Do　this　for　my　sake；　my　dear　boy；　she　had　to　put　up　with　a　great　deal　from　the　deceased；　any　way；”　Prince　Vassily　said　to　him；　giving　him　some　deed　to　sign　for　the　princess’s　benefit。　Prince　Vassily　reflected　that　this　note　of　hand　for　thirty　thousand　was　a　sop　worth　throwing　to　the　poor　princess；　that　it　might　not　occur　to　h