战争与和平(上)-第143章

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“Sonya；　you　mustn’t　doubt　of　him；　you　mustn’t；　you　mustn’t！　Do　you　understand？”　she　cried。
“Does　he　love　you？”
“Does　he　love　me？”　repeated　Natasha；　with　a　smile　of　compassion　for　her　friend’s　dullness　of　comprehension。　“Why；　you　have　read　his　letter；　haven’t　you？　You’ve　seen　him。”
“But　if　he　is　a　dishonourable　man？”
“He！　…　a　dishonourable　man？　If　only　you　knew！”　said　Natasha。
“If　he　is　an　honourable　man；　he　ought　either　to　explain　his　intentions；　or　to　give　up　seeing　you；　and　if　you　won’t　do　that；　I　will　do　it。　I’ll　write　to　him。　I’ll　tell　papa；”　said　Sonya　resolutely。
“But　I　can’t　live　without　him！”　cried　Natasha。
“Natasha；　I　don’t　understand　you。　And　what　are　you　saying？　Think　of　your　father；　of　Nikolenka。”
“I　don’t　care　for　any　one；　I　don’t　love　any　one　but　him。　How　dare　you　say　he’s　dishonourable！　Don’t　you　know　that　I　love　him？”　cried　Natasha。　“Sonya；　go　away；　I　don’t　want　to　quarrel　with　you；　go　away；　for　God’s　sake；　go　away；　you　see　how　wretched　I　am；”　cried　Natasha　angrily；　in　a　voice　of　repressed　irritation　and　despair。　Sonya　burst　into　sobs　and　ran　out　of　the　room。
Natasha　went　to　the　table；　and　without　a　moment’s　reflection　wrote　that　answer　to　Princess　Marya；　which　she　had　been　unable　to　write　all　the　morning。　In　her　letter　she　told　Princess　Marya　briefly　that　all　misunderstandings　between　them　were　at　an　end；　as　taking　advantage　of　the　generosity　of　Prince　Andrey；　who　had　at　parting　given　her　full　liberty；　she　begged　her　to　forget　everything　and　forgive　if　she　had　been　in　fault　in　any　way；　but　she　could　not　be　his　wife。　It　all　seemed　to　her　so　easy；　so　simple；　and　so　clear　at　that　moment。
The　Rostovs　were　to　return　to　the　country　on　Friday；　but　on　Wednesday　the　count　went　with　the　intending　purchaser　to　his　estate　near　Moscow。
On　the　day　the　count　left；　Sonya　and　Natasha　were　invited　to　a　big　dinner…party　at　Julie　Karagin’s；　and　Marya　Dmitryevna　took　them。　At　that　dinner　Natasha　met　Anatole　again；　and　Sonya　noticed　that　Natasha　said　something　to　him；　trying　not　to　be　overheard；　and　was　all　through　the　dinner　more　excited　than　before。　When　they　got　home；　Natasha　was　the　first　to　enter　upon　the　conversation　with　Sonya　that　her　friend　was　expecting。
“Well；　Sonya；　you　said　all　sorts　of　silly　things　about　him；”　Natasha　began　in　a　meek　voice；　the　voice　in　which　children　speak　when　they　want　to　be　praised　for　being　good。　“I　have　had　it　all　out　with　him　to…day。”
“Well；　what　did　he　say？　Well？　Come；　what　did　he　say？　Natasha；　I’m　so　glad　you’re　not　angry　with　me。　Tell　me　everything；　all　the　truth。　What　did　he　say？”
Natasha　sank　into　thought。
“O　Sonya；　if　you　knew　him　as　I　do！　He　said　…　He　asked　me　what　promise　I　had　given　Bolkonsky。　He　was　so　glad　that　I　was　free　to　refuse　him。”
Sonya　sighed　dejectedly。
“But　you　haven’t　refused　Bolkonsky；　have　you？”　she　said。
“Oh；　perhaps　I　have　refused　him！　Perhaps　it’s　all　at　an　end　with　Bolkonsky。　Why　do　you　think　so　ill　of　me？”
“I　don’t　think　anything；　only　I　don’t　understand　this。…”
“Wait　a　little；　Sonya；　you　will　understand　it　all。　You　will　see　the　sort　of　man　he　is。　Don’t　think　ill　of　me；　or　of　him。”
“I　don’t　think　ill　of　any　one；　I　like　every　one　and　am　sorry　for　every　one。　But　what　am　I　to　do？”
Sonya　would　not　let　herself　be　won　over　by　the　affectionate　tone　Natasha　took　with　her。　The　softer　and　the　more　ingratiating　Natasha’s　face　became；　the　more　serious　and　stern　became　the　face　of　Sonya。
“Natasha；”　she　said；　“you　asked　me　not　to　speak　to　you；　and　I　haven’t　spoken；　now　you　have　begun　yourself。　Natasha；　I　don’t　trust　him。　Why　this　secrecy？”
“Again；　again！”　interrupted　Natasha。
“Natasha；　I　am　afraid　for　you。”
“What　is　there　to　be　afraid　of？”
“I　am　afraid　you　will　be　ruined；”　said　Sonya　resolutely；　herself　horrified　at　what　she　was　saying。
Natasha’s　face　expressed　anger　again。
“Then　I　will　be　ruined；　I　will；　I’ll　hasten　to　my　ruin。　It’s　not　your　business。　It’s　not　you；　but　I；　will　suffer　for　it。　Leave　me　alone；　leave　me　alone。　I　hate　you！”
“Natasha！”　Sonya　appealed　to　her　in　dismay。
“I　hate　you；　I　hate　you！　And　you’re　my　enemy　for　ever！”
Natasha　ran　out　of　the　room。
Natasha　avoided　Sonya　and　did　not　speak　to　her　again。　With　the　same　expression　of　agitated　wonder　and　guilt　she　wandered　about　the　rooms；　taking　up　first　one　occupation　and　then　another；　and　throwing　them　aside　again　at　once。
Hard　as　it　was　for　Sonya；　she　kept　watch　over　her　friend　and　never　let　her　out　of　her　sight。
On　the　day　before　that　fixed　for　the　count’s　return；　Sonya　noticed　that　Natasha　sat　all　the　morning　at　the　drawing…room　window；　as　though　expecting　something；　and　that　she　made　a　sign　to　an　officer　who　passed　by；　whom　Sonya　took　to　be　Anatole。
Sonya　began　watching　her　friend　even　more　attentively；　and　she　noticed　that　all　dinner…time　and　in　the　evening　Natasha　was　in　a　strange　and　unnatural　state；　unlike　herself。　She　made　irrelevant　replies　to　questions　asked　her；　began　sentences　and　did　not　finish　them；　and　laughed　at　everything。
After　tea　Sonya　saw　the　maid　timidly　waiting　for　her　to　pass　at　Natasha’s　door。　She　let　her　go　in；　and　listening　at　the　door；　found　out　that　another　letter　had　been　given　her。　And　all　at　once　it　was　clear　to　Sonya　that　Natasha　had　some　dreadful　plan　for　that　evening。　Sonya　knocked　at　her　door。　Natasha　would　not　let　her　in。
“She　is　going　to　run　away　with　him！”　thought　Sonya。　“She　is　capable　of　anything。　There　was　something　particularly　piteous　and　determined　in　her　face　to…day。　She　cried　as　she　said　good…bye　to　uncle；”　Sonya　remembered。　“Yes；　it’s　certain；　she’s　going　to　run　away　with　him；　but　what　am　I　to　do？”　wondered　Sonya；　recalling　now　all　the　signs　that　so　clearly　betokened　some　dreadful　resolution　on　Natasha’s　part。　“The　count　is　not　here。　What　am　I　to　do？　Write　to　Kuragin；　demanding　an　explanation　from　him？　But　who　is　to　make　him　answer？　Write　to　Pierre；　as　Prince　Andrey　asked　me　to　do　in　case　of　trouble？　…　But　perhaps　she　really　has　refused　Bolkonsky　（she　sent　off　a　letter　to　Princess　Marya　yesterday）。　Uncle　is　not　here。”
To　tell　Marya　Dmitryevna；　who　had　such　faith　in　Natasha；　seemed　to　Sonya　a　fearful　step　to　take。
“But　one　way　or　another；”　thought　Sonya；　standing　in　the　dark　corridor；　“now　or　never　the　time　has　come　for　me　to　show　that　I　am　mindful　of　all　the　benefits　I　have　received　from　their　family　and　that　I　love　Nikolay。　No；　if　I　have　to　go　three　nights　together　without　sleep；　I　won’t　leave　this　corridor；　and　I　will　prevent　her　passing　by　force；　and　not　let　disgrace　come　upon　their　family；”　she　thought。


Chapter　16
ANATOLE　had　lately　moved　into　Dolohov’s　quarters。　The　plan　for　the　abduction　of　Natasha　Rostov　had　been　all　planned　out　and　prepared　several　days　before　by　Dolohov；　and　on　the　day　when　Sonya　had　listened　at　Natasha’s　door　and　resolved　to　protect　her；　that　plan　was　to　be　put　into　execution。　Natasha　had　promised　to　come　out　to　Kuragin　at　the　back　entrance　at　ten　o’clock　in　the　evening。　Kuragin　was　to　get　her　into　a　sledge　that　was　to　be　all　ready　with　three　horses　in　it；　and　to　drive　her　off　sixty　versts　from　Moscow　to　the　village　of　Kamenka；　where　an　unfrocked　priest　was　in　readiness　to　perform　a　marriage　ceremony　over　them。　At　Kamenka　a　relay　of　horses　was　to　be　in　readiness；　which　was　to　take　them　as　far　as　the　Warsaw　road；　and　thence　they　were　to　hasten　abroad　by　means　of　post…horses。
Anatole　had　a　passport　and　an　order　for　post…horses　and　ten　thousand　roubles　borrowed　from　his　sister；　and　ten　thousand　more　raised　by　the　assistance　of　Dolohov。
The　two　witnesses　of　the　mock　marriage　ceremony—Hvostikov；　once　a　petty　official；　a　man　of　whom　Dolohov　made　use　at　cards；　and　Makarin；　a　retired　hussar；　a　weak　and　good…natured　man；　whose　devotion　to　Kuragin　was　unbounded—were　sitting　over　their　tea　in　the　outer　room。
In　Dolohov’s　big　study；　decorated　from　the　walls　to　the　ceiling　with　Persian　rugs；　bearskins；　and　weapons；　Dolohov　was　sitting　in　a　travelling　tunic　and　high　boots　in　front　of　an　open　bureau　on　which　lay　accounts　and　bundles　of　bank　notes。　Anatole；　in　an　unbuttoned　uniform；　was　walking　to　and　fro　from　the　room　where　the　witnesses　were　sitting　through　the　study　into　a　room　behind；　where　his　French　valet　with　some　other　servants　was　packing　up　the　last　of　his　belongings。　Dolohov　was　reckoning　up　money　and　noting　down　sums。
“Well；”　he　said；　“you　will　have　to　give　Hvostikov　two　thousand。”
“Well；　give　it　him　then；”　said　Anatole。
“Makarka　now”　（their　name　for　Makarin）；　“he　would　go　through　fire　and　water　for　you　with　nothing　to　gain　by　it。　Well；　here　then；　our　accounts　are　finished；”　said　Dolohov；　showing　him　the　paper。　“That’s　all　right？”
“Yes；　of　course；　it’s　all　right；”　said　Anatole；　evidently　not　attending　to　Dolohov；　and　looking　straight　before　him　with　a　smile　that　never　left　his　face。
Dolohov　shut　the　bureau　with　a　slam；　and　turned　to　Anatole　with　a　ironical　smile。
“But　I　say；　you　drop　it　all；　there’s　still　time！”　he　said。
“Idiot！”　said　Anatole。　“Leave　off　talking　rubbish。　If　only　you　knew。…　Devil　only　knows　what　this　means　to　me！”
“You’d　really　better　drop　it；”　said　Dolohov。　“I’m　speaking　in　earnest。　It’s　no　joking　matter　this　scheme　of　yours。”
“Why；　teasing　again；　again？　Go　to　the　devil！　Eh。…”　said　Anatole；　frowning。　“Really；　I’m　in　no　humour　for　your　stupid　jokes。”　And　he　went　out　of　the　room。
Dolohov　smiled　a　contemptuous　and　supercilious　smile　when　Anatole　had　gone。
“Wait　a　bit；”　he　called　after　Anatole。　“I’m　not　joking。　I’m　in　earnest。　Come　here；　come　here！”
Anatole　came　back　into　the　room；　and　trying　to　concentrate　his　attention；　looked　at　Dolohov；　obviously　obeying　him　unwillingly。
“Listen　to　me。　I’m　speaking　to　you　for　the　last　time。　What　should　I　want　to　joke　with　you　for？　Have　I　ever　thwarted　you？　Who　was　it　arranged　it　all　for　you？　Who　found　your　priest？　Who　took　your　passport？　Who　got　you　your　money？　It　has　all　been　my　doing。”
“Well；　and　thank　you　for　it。　Do　you　suppose　I’m　not　grateful？”　Anatole　sighed　and　embraced　Dolohov。
“I　have　helped　you；　but　still　I　ought　to　tell　you　the　truth：　it’s　a　dangerous　business；　and　if　you　come　to　think　of　it；　it’s　stupid。　Come；　you　carry　her　off；　well　and　good。　Do　you　suppose　they’ll　let　it　rest？　It　will　come　out　that　you　are　married。　Why；　they　will　have　you　up　on　a　criminal　charge；　you　know　…”
“Oh；　nonsense；　nonsense！”　said　Anatole；　frowning　again。　“Why；　didn’t　I　explain　to　you？　Eh？”　and　Anatole；　with　that　peculiar　partiality　（common　in　persons　of　dull　brain）；　for　any　conclusion　to　which　they　have　been　led　by　their　own　mental　processes；　repeated　the　argument　he　had　repeated　a　hundred　times　over　to　Dolohov　already。　“Why；　I　explained　it；　I　settled　that。　If　this　marriage　is　invalid；”　he　said；　crooking　his　finger；　“then　it　follows　I’m　not　answerable　for　it。　Well；　and　if　it　is　valid；　it　won’t　matter。　No　one　will　ever　know　of　it　abroad；　so；　you　see；　it’s　all　right；　isn’t　it？　And　don’t　talk　to　me；　don’t　talk　to　me；　don’t　talk　to　me！”
“Really；　you　drop　it。　You’ll　get　yourself　into　a　mess　…”
“You　go　to　the　devil！”　said　Anatole；　and　clutching　at　his　hair　he　went　off　into　the　next　room；　but　at　once　returning　he　sat　with　his　legs　up　on　an　arm…chair　close　to　Dolohov　and　faci