战争与和平(上)-第239部分

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itching　lips　and　the　lustreless；　staring；　and　frowning　eyes。　He　was　standing　over　the　singers；　and；　obviously　with　some　notion　in　his　head；　was　making　solemn　and　angular　passes　over　their　heads　with　his　bare；　white　arm；　while　he　tried　to　spread　his　dirty　fingers　out　unnaturally　wide　apart。　The　sleeve　of　his　coat　was　incessantly　slipping　down；　and　the　young　fellow　kept　carefully　tucking　it　up　again　with　his　left　hand；　as　though　there　was　something　of　special　significance　requiring　that　white；　sinewy；　waving　arm　to　be　bare。　In　the　middle　of　the　song；　shouts　and　blows　were　heard　in　the　passage　and　the　porch。　The　tall　fellow　waved　his　arms。
“Shut　up！”　he　shouted　peremptorily。　“A　fight；　lads！”　and　still　tucking　up　his　sleeves；　he　went　out　to　the　porch。
The　factory　hands　followed　him。　They　had　brought　the　tavern…　keeper　some　skins　that　morning　from　the　factory；　had　had　drink　given　them　for　this　service；　and　had　been　drinking　under　the　leadership　of　the　tall　young　man。　The　blacksmiths　working　in　a　smithy　hard　by　heard　the　sounds　of　revelry　in　the　pothouse；　and　supposing　the　house　had　been　forcibly　broken　into；　wanted　to　break　in　too。　A　conflict　was　going　on　in　the　porch。
The　tavern…keeper　was　fighting　with　a　blacksmith　in　the　doorway；　and　at　the　moment　when　the　factory　hands　emerged；　the　smith　had　reeled　away　from　the　tavern…keeper；　and　fallen　on　his　face　on　the　pavement。
Another　smith　dashed　in　at　the　door；　staggering　with　his　chest　against　the　tavern…keeper。
The　young　man　with　the　sleeve　tucked　up；　as　he　went；　dealt　a　blow　in　the　face　of　the　smith　who　had　dashed　in　at　the　door；　and　shouted　wildly：
“Lads！　they　are　beating　our　mates！”
Meanwhile；　the　smith　got　up　from　the　ground；　and　with　blood　spurting　from　his　bruised　face；　cried　in　a　wailing　voice：
“Help！　They　have　killed　me　…！　They　have　killed　a　man！　Mates！　…”
“Oy；　mercy　on　us；　killed　entirely；　a　man　killed！”　squealed　a　woman；　coming　out　of　the　gates　next　door。　A　crowd　of　people　gathered　round　the　blood…stained　smith。
“Haven’t　you　ruined　folks　enough；　stripping　the　shirts　off　their　backs？”　said　a　voice；　addressing　the　tavern…keeper；　“and　so　now　you　have　murdered　a　man！　Blackguard！”
The　tall　young　man　standing　on　the　steps　turned　his　bleared　eyes　from　the　tavern…keeper　to　the　smiths；　as　though　considering　with　which　to　fight。
“Cut…throat！”　he　cried　suddenly　at　the　tavern…keeper。　“Lads；　bind　him！”
“Indeed；　and　you　try　and　bind　a　man　like　me！”　bawled　the　tavern…keeper；　tearing　himself　away　from　the　men　who　threw　themselves　on　him；　and　taking　off　his　cap；　he　flung　it　on　the　ground。　As　though　this　act　had　some　mysterious　and　menacing　significance；　the　factory　hands；　who　had　surrounded　the　tavern…keeper；　stood　still　in　uncertainty。
“I　know　the　law；　mate；　very　well；　I　do。　I’ll　go　to　the　police。　Are　you　thinking　I　won’t　find　them？　Robbery’s　not　the　order　of　the　day　for　any　one！”　bawled　the　tavern…keeper；　picking　up　his　cap。
“And　go　we　will；　so　there！”　…　“And　go　we　will　…　so　there！”　the　tavern…keeper　and　the　tall　fellow　repeated　after　one　another；　and　both　together　moved　forward　along　the　street。　The　blood…bespattered　smith　walked　on　a　level　with　them。　The　factory…hands　and　a　mob　of　outsiders　followed　them　with　talk　and　shouting。
At　the　corner　of　Maroseyka；　opposite　a　great　house　with　closed　shutters；　and　the　signboard　of　a　bootmaker；　stood　a　group　of　some　twenty　bootmakers；　thin；　exhausted…looking　men；　with　dejected　faces；　in　loose　smocks；　and　torn　coats。
“He　ought　to　pay　folks　properly！”　a　thin　boot　hand；　with　a　scant　beard　and　scowling　brows；　was　saying。　“He’s　sucked　the　life…blood　out　of　us；　and　then　he’s　quit　of　us。　He’s　been　promising　and　promising　us　all　the　week。　And　now　he’s　driven　us　to　the　last　point；　and　he’s　made　off。”　Seeing　the　mob　and　the　blood…bespattered　smith；　the　man　paused；　and　the　bootmakers　with　inquisitive　eagerness　joined　the　moving　crowd。
“Where　are　the　folks　going？”
“Going　to　the　police；　to　be　sure。”
“Is　it　true　we　are　beaten？”
“Why；　what　did　you　think？　Look　what　folks　are　saying！”
Questions　and　answers　were　audible。　The　tavern…keeper；　taking　advantage　of　the　increased　numbers　of　the　rabble；　dropped　behind　the　mob；　and　went　back　to　his　tavern。
The　tall　young　fellow；　not　remarking　the　disappearance　of　his　foe；　the　tavern…keeper；　still　moved　his　bare　arm　and　talked　incessantly；　attracting　the　attention　of　all。　The　mob　pressed　about　his　figure　principally；　expecting　to　get　from　him　some　solution　of　the　questions　that　were　absorbing　all　of　them。
“Let　them　show　the　order；　let　him　show　the　law；　that’s　what　the　government’s　for！　Isn’t　it　the　truth　I　am　saying；　good　Christian　folk？”　said　the　tall　young　man；　faintly　smiling。
“Does　he　suppose　there’s　no　government？　Could　we　do　without　government？　Wouldn’t　there　be　plenty　to　rob　us；　eh？”
“Why　talk　nonsense！”　was　murmured　in　the　crowd。　“Why；　will　they　leave　Moscow　like　this！　They　told　you　a　lot　of　stuff　in　joke；　and　you　believed　them。　Haven’t　we　troops　enough？　No　fear；　they　won’t　let　him　enter！　That’s　what　the　government’s　for。　Ay；　listen　what　folks　are　prating　of！”　they　said；　pointing　to　the　tall　fellow。
By　the　wall　of　the　Kitay…Gorod　there　was　another　small　group　of　people　gathered　about　a　man　in　a　frieze　coat；　who　held　a　paper　in　his　hand。
“A　decree；　a　decree　being　read！　A　decree　is　being　read；”　was　heard　in　the　crowd；　and　the　mob　surged　round　the　reader。
The　man　in　the　frieze　coat　was　reading　the　placard　of　the　31st　of　August。　When　the　mob　crowded　round；　he　seemed　disconcerted；　but　at　the　demand　of　the　tall　fellow　who　pressed　close　up　to　him；　he　began　with　a　faint　quiver　in　his　voice　reading　the　notice　again　from　the　beginning。
“Early　to…morrow　I　am　going　to　his　highness　the　prince；”　he　read　（“his　highness！”　the　tall　young　man　repeated；　with　a　triumphant　smile　and　knitted　brows）；　“to　consult　with　him；　to　act　and　to　aid　the　troops　to　exterminate　the　wretches；　we；　too；　will　destroy　them　root　and　branch　…”　the　reader　went　on　and　paused　（“D’ye　see？”　bawled　the　tall　fellow　with　an　air　of　victory。　“He’ll　unravel　the　whole　evil　for　you　…”）　“and　send　our　visitors　packing　to　the　devil；　I　shall　come　back　to　dinner；　and　we　will　set　to　work；　we　will　be　doing　till　we　have　done；　and　done　away　with　the　villains。”
These　last　words　were　uttered　by　the　reader　in　the　midst　of　complete　silence。　The　tall　fellow’s　head　sank　dejectedly。　It　was　obvious　that　nobody　had　understood　these　last　words。　The　words　“I　shall　come　back　to　dinner”　in　especial　seemed　to　offend　both　reader　and　audience。　The　faculties　of　the　crowd　were　strained　to　the　highest　pitch；　and　this　was　too　easy　and　unnecessarily　simple；　it　was　just　what　any　one　of　them　might　have　said；　and　what　for　that　reason　could　not　be　said　in　a　decree　coming　from　a　higher　authority。
All　stood　in　depressed　silence。　The　tall　fellow’s　lips　moved；　and　he　staggered。
“Ask　him！　…　Isn’t　that　himself？　…　How’d　it　be　to　ask　him！　Or　else　…　He’ll　explain　…”　was　suddenly　heard　in　the　back　rows　of　the　crowd；　and　the　general　attention　turned　to　the　chaise　of　the　head　of　the　police；　which　drove　into　the　square；　escorted　by　two　mounted　dragoons。
The　head　of　the　police；　who　had　driven　out　that　morning　by　Count　Rastoptchin’s　command　to　set　fire　to　the　barques　in　the　river；　and　had　received　for　that　commission　a　large　sum　of　money；　at　that　moment　in　his　pocket；　ordered　his　coachman　to　stop　on　seeing　a　crowd　bearing　down　upon　him。
“What　are　those　people？”　he　shouted　to　the　people；　who　timidly　approached　the　chaise　in　detached　groups。　“What　is　this　crowd；　I　ask　you？”　repeated　the　head　of　police；　receiving　no　reply。
“Your　honour；”　said　the　man　in　the　frieze　coat；　“it　was　their　wish；　your　honour；　not　sparing　their　substance；　in　accord　with　his　excellency　the　count’s　proclamation；　to　serve；　and　not　to　make　a　riot　at　all；　as　his　excellency　said　…”
“The　count　has　not　gone；　he　is　here；　and　will　give　orders　about　you；”　said　the　head　of　police。　“Go　on！”　he　said　to　his　coachman。　The　crowd　stood　still；　pressing　round　those　who　had　heard　what　was　said　by　the　official；　and　looking　at　the　departing　chaise。
The　head　of　the　police　meantime　looked　about　him　in　alarm；　and　said　something　to　his　coachman；　the　horses　trotted　faster。
“Cheated；　mates！　Lead　us　to　himself！”　bawled　the　voice　of　the　tall　fellow。　“Don’t　let　him　go；　lads！　Let　him　answer　for　it！　Keep　him！”　roared　voices；　and　the　crowd　dashed　full　speed　after　the　chaise。
The　mob　in　noisy　talk　pursued　the　head　of　the　police　to　Lubyanka。
“Why；　the　gentry　and　the　tradespeople　are　all　gone；　and　we　are　left　to　perish。　Are　we　dogs；　pray？”　was　heard　more　frequently　in　the　crowd。


Chapter　24
ON　THE　EVENING　of　the　1st　of　September；　Count　Rastoptchin　had　come　away　from　his　interview　with　Kutuzov　mortified　and　offended　at　not　having　been　invited　to　the　council　of　war；　and　at　Kutuzov’s　having　taken　no　notice　of　his　offer　to　take　part　in　the　defence　of　the　city；　and　astonished　at　the　new　view　of　things　revealed　to　him　in　the　camp；　in　which　the　tranquillity　of　the　city　and　its　patriotic　fervour　were　treated　as　matters　of　quite　secondary　importance；　if　not　altogether　irrelevant　and　trivial。　Mortified；　offended；　and　astonished　at　all　this；　Count　Rastoptchin　had　returned　to　Moscow。　After　supper；　he　lay　down　on　a　sofa　without　undressing；　and　at　one　o’clock　was　waked　by　a　courier　bringing　him　a　letter　from　Kutuzov。　The　letter　asked　the　count；　since　the　troops　were　retreating　to　the　Ryazan　road　behind　Moscow；　to　send　police　officials　to　escort　troops　through　the　town。　The　letter　told　Rastoptchin　nothing　new。　He　had　known　that　Moscow　would　be　abandoned　not　merely　since　his　interview　the　previous　day　with　Kutuzov　on　the　Poklonny　Hill；　but　ever　since　the　battle　of　Borodino；　since　when　all　the　generals　who　had　come　to　Moscow　had　with　one　voice　declared　that　another　battle　was　impossible；　and　with　Rastoptchin’s　sanction　government　property　had　been　removed　every　night；　and　half　the　inhabitants　had　left。　But　nevertheless　the　fact；　communicated　in　the　form　of　a　simple　note；　with　a　command　from　Kutuzov；　and　received　at　night；　breaking　in　on　his　first　sleep；　surprised　and　irritated　the　governor。
In　later　days；　Count　Rastoptchin；　by　way　of　explaining　his　ac