战争与和平(上)-第230部分

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ome　sort；　and　so　fancies　that　he’s　above　everybody。　A　regular　young　scamp！　His　father　has　an　eating…house　here　on　the　Kamenny　bridge；　and　in　the　shop；　you　know；　there　is　a　great　picture　of　God　the　Supporter　of　All；　represented　with　a　sceptre　in　one　hand　and　the　empire　in　the　other；　well；　he　took　that　picture　home　for　a　few　days；　and　what　do　you　suppose　he　did！　He　got　hold　of　some　wretched　painter…”


Chapter　11
IN　THE　MIDDLE　of　this　new　story　Pierre　was　summoned　to　the　governor。
He　went　into　Count　Rastoptchin’s　study。　Rastoptchin；　frowning；　passed　his　hand　across　his　forehead　and　eyes　as　Pierre　entered。　A　short　man　was　saying　something；　but　as　soon　as　Pierre　walked　in　he　stopped；　and　went　out。
“Ah！　greetings　to　you；　valiant　warrior；”　said　Rastoptchin　as　soon　as　the　other　man　had　left　the　room。　“We　have　been　hearing　about　your　prouesses！　But　that’s　not　the　point。　Mon　cher；　entre　nous；　are　you　a　mason？”　said　Count　Rastoptchin　in　a　severe　tone；　that　suggested　that　it　was　a　crime　to　be　so；　but　that　he　intended　to　pardon　it。　Pierre　did　not　speak。　“Mon　cher；　je　suis　bien　informé；　but　I　know　that　there　are　masons　and　masons；　and　I　hope　you　don’t　belong　to　those　among　them　who；　by　way　of　regenerating　the　human　race；　are　trying　to　ruin　Russia。”
“Yes；　I　am　a　mason；”　answered　Pierre。
“Well　then；　look　here；　my　dear　boy。　You　are　not　unaware；　I　dare　say；　of　the　fact　that　Speransky　and　Magnitsky　have　been　sent—to　their　proper　place—and　the　same　has　been　done　with　Klutcharyov　and　the　others　who；　under　the　guise　of　building　up　the　temple　of　Solomon；　have　been　trying　to　destroy　the　temple　of　their　fatherland。　You　may　take　it　for　granted　there　are　good　reasons　for　it；　and　that　I　could　not　have　banished　the　director　of　the　post…office　here　if　he　had　not　been　a　dangerous　person。　Now；　it　has　reached　my　ears　that　you　sent　him　your　carriage　to　get　out　of　the　town；　and　that　you　have　even　taken　charge　of　his　papers。　I　like　you；　and　wish　you　no　harm；　and　as　you　are　half　my　age；　I　advise　you；　as　a　father　might；　to　break　off　all　connection　with　people　of　that　sort；　and　to　get　away　from　here　yourself　as　quickly　as　you　can。”
“But　what　was　Klutcharyov’s　crime？”　asked　Pierre
“That’s　my　business；　and　it’s　not　yours　to　question　me；”　cried　Rastoptchin。
“If　he　is　accused　of　having　circulated　Napoleon’s　proclamation；　the　charge　has　not　been　proved；”　said　Pierre；　not　looking　at　Rastoptchin。　“And　Vereshtchagin…”
“Nous　y　voilà；”　Rastoptchin　suddenly　broke　in；　scowling　and　shouting　louder　than　ever。　“Vereshtchagin　is　a　traitor　and　a　deceiver；　who　will　receive　the　punishment　he　deserves；”　he　said；　with　the　vindictiveness　with　which　people　speak　at　the　recollection　of　an　affront。　“But　I　did　not　send　for　you　to　criticise　my　actions；　but　in　order　to　give　you　advice　or　a　command；　if　you　will　have　it　so。　I　beg　you　to　break　off　all　connection　with　Klutcharyov　and　his　set；　and　to　leave　the　town。　And　I’ll　knock　the　nonsense　out　of　them；　wherever　I　may　find　it。”　And；　probably　becoming　conscious　that　he　was　taking　a　heated　tone　with　Bezuhov；　who　was　as　yet　guilty　of　no　offence；　he　added；　taking　Pierre’s　hand　cordially：　“We　are　on　the　eve　of　a　public　disaster；　and　I　haven’t　time　to　say　civil　things　to　every　one　who　has　business　with　me。　My　head　is　at　times　in　a　perfect　whirl。　Well；　what　are　you　going　to　do；　you　personally？”
“Oh；　nothing；”　answered　Pierre；　with　his　eyes　still　downcast；　and　no　change　in　the　expression　of　his　dreamy　face
The　count　frowned。
“Un　conseil　d’ami；　mon　cher。　Decamp；　and　as　soon　as　may　be；　that’s　my　advice。　A　bon　entendeur；　salut！　Good…bye；　my　dear　boy。　Oh；　by　the　way；”　he　called　after　him　at　the　door；　“is　it　true　the　countess　has　fallen　into　the　clutches　of　the　holy　fathers　of　the　Society　of　Jesus？”
Pierre　made　no　answer。　He　walked　out　from　Rastoptchin’s　room；　scowling　and　wrathful　as　he　had　never　been　seen　before。
By　the　time　he　reached　home　it　was　getting　dark。　Eight　persons　of　different　kinds　were　waiting　on　him　that　evening。　A　secretary　of　a　committee；　the　colonel　of　his　battalion　of　militia；　his　steward；　his　bailiff；　and　other　persons　with　petitions。　All　of　them　had　business　matters　with　Pierre；　which　he　had　to　settle。　He　had　no　understanding　of　their　questions；　nor　interest　in　them；　and　answered　them　with　the　sole　object　of　getting　rid　of　these　people。　At　last　he　was　left　alone；　and　he　broke　open　and　read　his　wife’s　letter。
“They—the　soldiers　on　the　battery；　Prince　Andrey　killed　…　the　old　man。…　Simplicity　is　submission　to　God’s　will。　One　has　to　suffer…the　significance　of　the　whole…one　must　harness　all　together…my　wife　is　going　to　be　married。…　One　must　forget　and　understand　…”　And；　without　undressing；　he　threw　himself　on　his　bed　and　at　once　fell　asleep。
When　he　waked　up　next　morning　his　steward　came　in　to　announce　that　a　police　official　was　below；　sent　expressly　by　Count　Rastoptchin　to　find　out　whether　Count　Bezuhov　had　gone；　or　was　going　away。
A　dozen　different　people　were　waiting　in　the　drawing…room　to　see　Pierre　on　business。　Pierre　dressed　in　haste；　and　instead　of　going　down　to　see　them；　he　ran　down　the　back　staircase　and　out　by　the　back　entry　to　the　gates。
From　that　moment　till　the　occupation　of　Moscow　was　over；　no　one　of　Bezuhov’s　household　saw　him　again；　nor　could　discover　his　whereabouts；　in　spite　of　every　effort　to　track　him　down。


Chapter　12
THE　ROSTOVS　remained　in　Moscow　till　the　1st　of　September；　the　day　before　the　enemy　entered　the　city。
After　Petya　had　joined　Obolensky’s　regiment　of　Cossacks　and　had　gone　away　to　Byely　Tserkov；　where　the　regiment　was　being　enrolled；　the　countess　fell　into　a　panic　of　terror。　The　idea　that　both　her　sons　were　at　the　war；　that　they　had　both　escaped　from　under　her　wing；　that　any　day　either　of　them—and　possibly　even　both　at　once；　like　the　three　sons　of　a　lady　of　her　acquaintance—might　be　killed；　seemed　for　the　first　time　that　summer　to　strike　her　imagination　with　cruel　vividness。　She　tried　to　get　Nikolay　back；　wanted　to　go　herself　after　Petya；　or　to　obtain　some　post　for　him　in　Petersburg；　but　all　these　seemed　equally　impossible。　Petya　could　not　be　brought　back　except　by　the　return　of　his　regiment；　or　through　being　transferred　to　another　regiment　on　active　service。　Nikolay　was　somewhere　at　the　front；　and　nothing　had　been　heard　from　him　since　the　letter　in　which　he　had　given　a　detailed　account　of　his　meeting　with　Princess　Marya。　The　countess　could　not　sleep　at　nights；　and　when　she　did　sleep；　she　dreamed　that　her　sons　had　been　killed。　After　much　talking　the　matter　over；　and　many　consultations　of　friends；　the　count　at　last　hit　on　a　means　for　soothing　the　countess。　He　got　Petya　transferred　from　Obolensky’s　regiment　to　Bezuhov’s；　which　was　in　formation　near　Moscow。　Though；　even　so；　Petya　remained　in　the　army；　by　this　exchange　the　countess　had　the　consolation　of　seeing　one　son　at　least　again　under　her　wing；　and　she　hoped　to　manage　not　to　let　her　Petya　escape　her　again；　but　to　succeed　in　getting　him　always　appointed　to　places　where　there　would　be　no　risk　of　his　being　in　battle。　While　Nikolay　had　been　the　only　one　in　danger；　the　countess　had　fancied　（and　had　suffered　some　pricks　of　conscience　on　the　subject）　that　she　loved　her　elder　son　better　than　the　other　children。　But　now　that　her　younger　boy；　the　scapegrace　Petya；　always　idle　at　his　lessons；　always　in　mischief；　and　teasing　every　one；　her　little　Petya；　with　his　snub…nose；　his　merry　black　eyes；　his　fresh　colour；　and　the　soft　down　just　showing　on　his　cheeks；　had　slipped　away　into　the　company　of　those　big；　dreadful；　cruel　men；　who　were　fighting　away　somewhere　about　something；　and　finding　a　sort　of　pleasure　in　it—now　it　seemed　to　the　mother　that　she　loved　him　more；　far　more；　than　all　the　rest。　The　nearer　the　time　came　for　the　return　of　her　longed…for　Petya　to　Moscow；　the　greater　was　the　uneasiness　of　the　countess。　She　positively　thought　she　would　never　live　to　see　such　happiness。　Not　only　Sonya’s　presence；　even　her　favourite　Natasha’s；　even　her　husband’s　company；　irritated　the　countess。　“What　do　I　want　with　them；　I　want　no　one　but　Petya！”　she　thought。　One　day　towards　the　end　of　August；　the　Rostovs　received　a　second　letter　from　Nikolay。　He　wrote　from　the　province　of　Voronezh；　where　he　had　been　sent　to　procure　remounts。　This　letter　did　not　soothe　the　countess。　Knowing　that　one　son　was　out　of　danger；　she　seemed　to　feel　even　greater　alarm　on　Petya’s　account。
Although　by　the　20th　of　August　almost　all　the　Rostovs’　acquaintances　had　left　Moscow；　although　everybody　was　trying　to　persuade　the　countess　to　get　away　as　quickly　as　possible；　she　would　not　hear　of　leaving　till　her　treasure；　her　idolised　Petya；　had　come　back。　On　the　28th　of　August　Petya　arrived。　The　morbidly　passionate　tenderness　with　which　his　mother　received　him　was　by　no　means　gratifying　to　the　sixteen…year…old　officer。　Though　his　mother　concealed　her　intention　of　never　letting　him　escape　from　under　her　wing　again；　Petya　divined　her　plans；　and　instinctively　afraid　of　his　mother’s　making　him　too　soft；　of　her　“making　a　ninny”　of　him　（as　he　expressed　it　in　his　own　mind）；　he　treated　her　rather　coolly；　avoided　being　with　her；　and　during　his　stay　in　Moscow　devoted　himself　exclusively　to　Natasha；　for　whom　he　had　always　had　the　warmest　brotherly　affection；　almost　approaching　adoration。
The　count；　with　his　characteristic　carelessness；　had　by　the　28th　made　no　preparations　for　leaving；　and　the　waggons　that　were　to　come　from　their　Moscow　and　Ryazan　estate　to　remove　all　their　property　out　of　the　house　only　arrived　on　the　30th。
From　the　28th　to　the　31st；　Moscow　was　all　bustle　and　movement。　Every　day　thousands　of　wounded　from　the　field　of　Borodino　were　brought　in　at　the　Dorogomilov　gate　and　conveyed　across　Moscow；　and　thousands　of　vehicles；　full　of　residents　and　their　belongings；　were　driving　out　at　the　gates　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　city。　In　spite　of　Rastoptchin’s　placards—either　arising　independently　of　them；　or　perhaps　in　consequence　of　them—the　strangest　and　most　contradictory　rumours　were　circulating　about　the　town。　Some　said　that　every　one　was　forbidden　to　leave　the　city；　others　asserted　that　all　the　holy　pictures　had　been　taken　from　the　churches；　and　every　one　was　to　be　driven　out　of　Moscow　by　force。　Some　said　there　had　been