战争与和平(上)-第303部分

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“Yes；　and　he　is　so　different　from　him。　They　say　men　are　better　friends　when　they　are　utterly　different。　That　must　be　true；　he　is　not　a　bit　like　him　in　anything；　is　he？”
“Yes；　and　he　is　such　a　splendid　fellow。”
“Well；　good…night；”　answered　Natasha。　And　the　same　mischievous　smile　lingered　a　long　while　as　though　forgotten　on　her　face。


Chapter　18
FOR　A　LONG　WHILE　Pierre　could　not　sleep　that　night。　He　walked　up　and　down　his　room；　at　one　moment　frowning　deep　in　some　difficult　train　of　thought；　at　the　next　shrugging　his　shoulders　and　shaking　himself　and　at　the　next　smiling　blissfully。
He　thought　of　Prince　Andrey；　of　Natasha；　of　their　love；　and　at　one　moment　was　jealous　of　her　past；　and　at　the　next　reproached　himself；　and　then　forgave　himself　for　the　feeling。　It　was　six　o’clock　in　the　morning；　and　still　he　paced　the　room。
“Well；　what　is　one　to　do；　if　there’s　no　escaping　it？　What　is　one　to　do？　It　must　be　the　right　thing；　then；”　he　said　to　himself；　and　hurriedly　undressing；　he　got　into　bed；　happy　and　agitated；　but　free　from　doubt　and　hesitation。
“However　strange；　however　impossible　such　happiness；　I　must　do　everything　that　we　may　be　man　and　wife；”　he　said　to　himself。
Several　days　previously　Pierre　had　fixed　on　the　following　Friday　as　the　date　on　which　he　would　set　off　to　Petersburg。　When　he　waked　up　next　day　it　was　Thursday；　and　Savelitch　came　to　him　for　orders　about　packing　the　things　for　the　journey。
“To　Petersburg？　What　is　Petersburg？　Who　is　in　Petersburg？”　he　unconsciously　asked；　though　only　of　himself。　“Yes；　some　long　while　ago；　before　this　happened；　I　was　meaning　for　some　reason　to　go　to　Petersburg；”　he　recalled。　“Why　was　it？　And　I　shall　go；　perhaps。　How　kind　he　is；　and　how　attentive；　how　he　remembers　everything！”　he　thought；　looking　at　Savelitch’s　old　face。　“And　what　a　pleasant　smile！”　he　thought。
“Well；　and　do　you　still　not　want　your　freedom；　Savelitch？”　asked　Pierre。
“What　should　I　want　my　freedom　for；　your　excellency？　With　the　late　count—the　Kingdom　of　Heaven　to　him—we　got　on　very　well；　and　under　you；　we　have　never　known　any　unkindness。”
“Well；　but　your　children？”
“My　children　too　will　do　very　well；　your　excellency；　under　such　masters　one　can　get　on　all　right。”
“Well；　but　my　heirs？”　said　Pierre。　“All　of　a　sudden　I　shall　get　married　…　It　might　happen；　you　know；”　he　added；　with　an　involuntary　smile。
“And　I　make　bold　to　say；　a　good　thing　too；　your　excellency。”
“How　easy　he　thinks　it；”　thought　Pierre。　“He　does　not　know　how　terrible　it　is；　how　perilous。　Too　late　or　too　early　…　It　is　terrible！”
“What　are　your　orders？　Will　you　be　pleased　to　go　to…morrow？”　asked　Savelitch。
“No；　I　will　put　it　off　a　little。　I　will　tell　you　later。　You　must　excuse　the　trouble　I　give　you；”　said　Pierre；　and　watching　Savelitch’s　smile；　he　thought　how　strange　it　was；　though；　that　he　should　not　know　there　was　no　such　thing　as　Petersburg；　and　that　that　must　be　settled　before　everything。
“He　really　does　know；　though；”　he　thought；　“he　is　only　pretending。　Shall　I　tell　him？　What　does　he　think　about　it？　No；　another　time。”
At　breakfast；　Pierre　told　his　cousin　that　he　had　been　the　previous　evening　at　Princess　Marya’s；　and　had　found　there—could　she　fancy　whom—Natasha　Rostov。
The　princess　looked　as　though　she　saw　nothing　more　extraordinary　in　that　fact　than　if　Pierre　had　seen　some　Anna　Semyonovna。
“You　know　her？”　asked　Pierre。
“I　have　seen　the　princess；”　she　answered；　“and　I　had　heard　they　were　making　a　match　between　her　and　young　Rostov。　That　would　be　a　very　fine　thing　for　the　Rostovs；　I　am　told　they　are　utterly　ruined。”
“No；　I　meant；　do　you　know　Natasha　Rostov？”
“I　heard　at　the　time　all　about　that　story。　Very　sad。”
“She　does　not　understand；　or　she　is　pretending；”　thought　Pierre。　“Better　not　tell　her　either。”
The　princess；　too；　had　prepared　provisions　for　Pierre’s　journey。
“How　kind　they　all　are；”　thought　Pierre；　“to　trouble　about　all　this　now；　when　it　certainly　can　be　of　no　interest　to　them。　And　all　for　my　sake；　that　is　what’s　so　marvellous。”
The　same　day　a　police　officer　came　to　see　Pierre；　with　an　offer　to　send　a　trusty　agent　to　the　Polygonal　Palace　to　receive　the　things　that　were　to…day　to　be　restored　among　the　owners。
“And　this　man　too；”　thought　Pierre；　looking　into　the　police　officer’s　face；　“what　a　nice；　good…looking　officer；　and　how　good…natured！　To　trouble　about　such　trifles　now。　And　yet　they　say　he　is　not　honest；　and　takes　bribes。　What　nonsense！　though　after　all　why　shouldn’t　he　take　bribes？　He　has　been　brought　up　in　that　way。　They　all　do　it。　But　such　a　pleasant；　good…humoured　face；　and　he　smiles　when　he　looks　at　me。”
Pierre　went　to　Princess　Marya’s　to　dinner。　As　he　drove　through　the　streets　between　the　charred　wrecks　of　houses；　he　admired　the　beauty　of　those　ruins。　The　chimneys　of　stoves；　and　the　tumbledown　walls　of　houses　stretched　in　long　rows；　hiding　one　another；　all　through　the　burnt　quarters　of　the　town；　and　recalled　to　him　the　picturesque　ruins　of　the　Rhine　and　of　the　Colosseum。　The　sledge…drivers　and　men　on　horseback；　the　carpenters　at　work　on　the　frames　of　the　houses；　the　hawkers　and　shopkeepers　all　looked　at　Pierre　with　cheerful；　beaming　faces；　and　seemed　to　him　to　say：　“Oh；　here　he　is！　We　shall　see　what　comes　of　it。”
On　reaching　Princess　Marya’s　house；　Pierre　was　beset　by　a　sudden　doubt　whether　it　were　true　that　he　had　been　there　the　day　before；　and　had　really　seen　Natasha　and　talked　to　her。　“Perhaps　it　was　all　my　own　invention；　perhaps　I　shall　go　in　and　see　no　one。”　But　no　sooner　had　he　entered　the　room　than　in　his　whole　being；　from　his　instantaneous　loss　of　freedom；　he　was　aware　of　her　presence。　She　was　wearing　the　same　black　dress；　that　hung　in　soft　folds；　and　had　her　hair　arranged　in　the　same　way；　but　she　was　utterly　different。　Had　she　looked　like　this　when　he　came　in　yesterday；　he　could　not　have　failed　to　recognise　her。
She　was　just　as　he　had　known　her　almost　as　a　child；　and　later　when　betrothed　to　Prince　Andrey。　A　bright；　questioning　light　gleamed　in　her　eyes；　there　was　a　friendly　and　strangely　mischievous　expression　in　her　face。
Pierre　dined；　and　would　have　spent　the　whole　evening　with　them；　but　Princess　Marya　was　going　to　vespers；　and　Pierre　went　with　them。
Next　day　Pierre　arrived　early；　dined　with　them；　and　stayed　the　whole　evening。　Although　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　were　obviously　glad　to　see　their　visitor；　and　although　the　whole　interest　of　Pierre’s　life　was　now　centred　in　that　house；　by　the　evening　they　had　said　all　they　had　to　say；　and　the　conversation　passed　continually　from　one　trivial　subject　to　another　and　often　broke　off　altogether。　Pierre　stayed　so　late　that　evening　that　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　exchanged　glances；　plainly　wondering　whether　he　would　not　soon　go。　Pierre　saw　that；　but　he　could　not　go　away。　He　began　to　feel　it　irksome　and　awkward；　but　still　he　sat　on　because　he　could　not　get　up　and　go。
Princess　Marya；　foreseeing　no　end　to　it；　was　the　first　to　get　up；　and　complaining　of　a　sick　headache；　she　began　saying　good…night。
“So　you　are　going　to…morrow　to　Petersburg？”　she　said。
“No；　I　am　not　going；”　said　Pierre　hurriedly；　with　surprise　and　a　sort　of　resentment　in　his　tone。　“No　…　yes；　to　Petersburg。　To…morrow；　perhaps；　but　I　won’t　say　good…bye。　I　shall　come　to　see　if　you　have　any　commissions　to　give　me；”　he　added；　standing　before　Princess　Marya；　turning　very　red；　and　not　taking　leave。
Natasha　gave　him　her　hand　and　retired。　Princess　Marya；　on　the　contrary；　instead　of　going　away；　sank　into　an　armchair；　and　with　her　luminous；　deep　eyes　looked　sternly　and　intently　at　Pierre。　The　weariness　she　had　unmistakably　betrayed　just　before　had　now　quite　passed　off。　She　drew　a　deep；　prolonged　sigh；　as　though　preparing　for　a　long　conversation。
As　soon　as　Natasha　had　gone；　all　Pierre’s　confusion　and　awkwardness　instantly　vanished；　and　were　replaced　by　excited　eagerness。
He　rapidly　moved　a　chair　close　up　to　Princess　Marya。　“Yes；　I　wanted　to　tell　you；”　he　said；　replying　to　her　look　as　though　to　words。　“Princess；　help　me。　What　am　I　to　do？　Can　I　hope？　Princess；　my　dear　friend；　listen　to　me。　I　know　all　about　it。　I　know　I　am　not　worthy　of　her；　I　know　that　it　is　impossible　to　talk　of　it　now。　But　I　want　to　be　a　brother　to　her。　No；　not　that；　I　don’t；　I　can’t　…”　He　paused　and　passed　his　hands　over　his　face　and　eyes。　“It’s　like　this；”　he　went　on；　making　an　evident　effort　to　speak　coherently。　“I　don’t　know　since　when　I　have　loved　her。　But　I　have　loved　her　alone；　only　her；　all　my　life；　and　I　love　her　so　that　I　cannot　imagine　life　without　her。　I　cannot　bring　myself　to　ask　for　her　hand　now；　but　the　thought　that；　perhaps；　she　might　be　my　wife　and　my　letting　slip　this　opportunity　…　opportunity　…　is　awful。　Tell　me；　can　I　hope？　Tell　me；　what　am　I　to　do？　Dear　princess；”　he　said；　after　a　brief　pause；　touching　her　hand　as　she　did　not　answer。
“I　am　thinking　of　what　you　have　just　told　me；”　answered　Princess　Marya。　“This　is　what　I　think。　You　are　right　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　…”　The　princess　paused。　She　had　meant　to　say　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　was　impossible；　but　she　stopped；　because　she　had　seen　during　the　last　three　days　by　the　sudden　change　in　Natasha　that　she　would　by　no　means　be　offended　if　Pierre　were　to　avow　his　love；　that；　in　fact；　it　was　the　one　thing　she　desired。
“To　speak　to　her　now　…　is　out　of　the　question；”　she　nevertheless　said。
“But　what　am　I　to　do？”
“Trust　the　matter　to　me；”　said　Princess　Marya。　“I　know　…”
Pierre　looked　into　her　eyes。　“Well；　well　…”　he　said。
“I　know　that　she　loves　…　that　she　will　love　you；”　Princess　Marya　corrected　herself。
She　had　hardly　uttered　the　words；　when　Pierre　leaped　up；　and　with　a　face　of　consternation　clutched　at　Princess　Marya’s　hand。
“What　makes　you　think　so？　You　think　I　may　hope？　You　think　so？　…”
“Yes；　I　think　so；”　said　Princess　Marya；　smiling。　“Write　to　her　parents。　And　leave　it　to　me。　I　will　tell　her　when　it　is　possible。　I　desire　it　to　come　to　pass。　And　I　have　a　feeling　in　my　heart　that　it　will　be　so。”
“No；　it　cannot　be！　How　happy　I　am！　But　it　cannot　be！　…　How　happy　I　am！　No；　it　cannot　be！”　Pierre　kept　saying；　kissing　Princess　Marya’s　hands。
“You　should　go　to　Petersburg；　it　will　be　better。　And　I　will　write　to　you；”　she