战争与和平(上)-第15章

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e　word　“possible。”　“That’s　how　we　old　hussars　look　at　it；　that’s　all　we　have　to　say。　And　how　do　you　look　at　it；　young　man　and　young　hussar？”　he　added；　addressing　Nikolay；　who；　catching　that　it　was　the　war　they　were　discussing；　had　dropped　his　conversation　with　Julie；　and　was　all　eyes　and　all　ears；　intent　on　the　colonel。
“I　perfectly　agree　with　you；”　answered　Nikolay；　growing　hot　all　over；　twisting　his　plate　round；　and　changing　the　places　of　the　glasses　with　a　face　as　desperate　and　determined　as　though　he　were　exposed　to　great　danger　at　that　actual　moment。　“I　am　convinced　that　the　Russians　must　die　or　conquer；”　he　said。　He　was　himself；　like　the　rest　of　the　party；　conscious　after　the　words　were　uttered　that　he　had　spoken　with　an　enthusiasm　and　fervour　out　of　keeping　with　the　occasion；　and　so　he　was　embarrassed。
“That　was　very　fine；　what　you　just　said；”　Julie　sitting　beside　him　said　breathlessly。　Sonya　trembled　all　over　and　crimsoned　to　her　ears；　and　behind　her　ears；　and　down　her　neck　and　shoulders；　while　Nikolay　was　speaking。　Pierre　listened　to　the　colonel’s　remarks；　and　nodded　his　head　approvingly。
“That’s　capital；”　said　he。
“You’re　a　true　hussar；　young　man；”　the　colonel　shouted；　thumping　on　the　table　again。
“What　are　you　making　such　a　noise　about　over　there？”　Marya　Dmitryevna’s　bass　voice　was　suddenly　heard　asking　across　the　table。　“What　are　you　thumping　the　table　for？”　she　addressed　the　colonel。　“Whom　are　you　so　hot　against？　You　imagine；　I　suppose；　that　the　French　are　before　you？”
“I　speak　the　truth；”　said　the　hussar；　smiling。
“It’s　all　about　the　war；”　the　count　shouted　across　the　table。　“My　son’s　going；　you　see；　Marya　Dmitryevna；　my　son’s　going。”
“And　I’ve　four　sons　in　the　army；　but　I　don’t　grieve。　All’s　in　God’s　hands；　one　may　die　in　one’s　bed；　and　in　battle　God　may　spare；”　Marya　Dmitryevna’s　deep　voice　boomed　back；　speaking　without　the　slightest　effort　from　the　further　end　of　the　table。
“That’s　true。”
And　the　conversation　concentrated　into　two　groups　again；　one　at　the　ladies’　end；　and　one　at　the　men’s。
“You　don’t　dare　to　ask！”　said　her　little　brother　to　Natasha；　“and　you　won’t　ask！”
“I　will　ask；”　answered　Natasha。　Her　face　suddenly　glowed；　expressing　a　desperate　and　mirthful　resolution。　She　rose　in　her　seat；　her　eyes　inviting　Pierre　to　listen；　and　addressed　her　mother。
“Mamma！”　her　childish　contralto　rang　out　over　the　table。
“What　is　it？”　the　countess　asked　in　dismay；　but　seeing　from　her　daughter’s　face　that　it　was　mischief；　she　shook　her　hand　at　her　sternly；　with　a　threatening　and　forbidding　movement　of　her　head。
All　conversation　was　hushed。
“Mamma！　what　pudding　will　there　be？”　Natasha’s　little　voice　rang　out　still　more　resolutely　and　deliberately。
The　countess　tried　to　frown；　but　could　not。　Marya　Dmitryevna　shook　her　fat　finger。
“Cossack！”　she　said　menacingly。
Most　of　the　guests　looked　at　the　parents；　not　knowing　how　they　were　to　take　this　sally。
“I’ll　give　it　to　you；”　said　the　countess。
“Mamma！　what　pudding　will　it　be？”　Natasha　cried；　with　bold　and　saucy　gaiety；　feeling　sure　that　her　prank　would　be　taken　in　the　right　spirit。　Sonya　and　fat　little　Petya　were　hiding　their　giggles。　“You　see　I　did　ask；”　Natasha　whispered　to　her　little　brother　and　Pierre；　at　whom　she　glanced　again。
“Ice…pudding；　only　you　are　not　to　have　any；”　said　Marya　Dmitryevna。　Natasha　saw　there　was　nothing　to　be　afraid　of；　and　so　she　was　not　frightened　at　Marya　Dmitryevna　even。
“Marya　Dmitryevna！　what　sort　of　ice…pudding？　I　don’t　like　ice　cream。”
“Carrot…ices。”
“No；　what　sort；　Marya　Dmitryevna；　what　sort？”　she　almost　shrieked。　“I　want　to　know。”　Marya　Dmitryevna　and　the　countess　burst　out　laughing；　and　all　the　party　followed　their　example。　They　all　laughed；　not　at　Marya　Dmitryevna’s　answer；　but　at　the　irrepressible　boldness　and　smartness　of　the　little　girl；　who　had　the　pluck　and　the　wit　to　tackle　Marya　Dmitryevna　in　this　fashion。
Natasha　only　desisted　when　she　had　been　told　it　was　to　be　pineapple　ice。　Before　the　ices；　champagne　was　passed　round。　Again　the　band　struck　up；　the　count　kissed　the　countess；　and　the　guests　getting　up　from　the　table　congratulated　the　countess；　and　clinked　glasses　across　the　table　with　the　count；　the　children；　and　one　another。　Again　the　waiters　darted　about；　chairs　grated　on　the　floor；　and　in　the　same　order；　but　with　flushed　faces；　the　guests　returned　to　the　drawing…room　and　the　count’s　study。


Chapter　17
THE　CARD…TABLES　were　opened；　parties　were　made　up　for　boston；　and　the　count’s　guests　settled　themselves　in　the　two　drawing…rooms；　the　divan…room；　and　the　library。
The　count；　holding　his　cards　in　a　fan；　with　some　difficulty　kept　himself　from　dropping　into　his　customary　after…dinner　nap；　and　laughed　at　everything。　The　young　people；　at　the　countess’s　suggestion；　gathered　about　the　clavichord　and　the　harp。　Julie　was　first　pressed　by　every　one　to　perform；　and　played　a　piece　with　variations　on　the　harp。　Then　she　joined　the　other　young　ladies　in　begging　Natasha　and　Nikolay；　who　were　noted　for　their　musical　talents；　to　sing　something。　Natasha；　who　was　treated　by　every　one　as　though　she　were　grown…up；　was　visibly　very　proud　of　it；　and　at　the　same　time　made　shy　by　it。
“What　are　we　to　sing？”　she　asked。
“The　‘Spring；’　”　answered　Nikolay。
“Well；　then；　let’s　make　haste。　Boris；　come　here；”　said　Natasha。　“But　where’s　Sonya？”　She　looked　round；　and　seeing　that　her　friend　was　not　in　the　room；　she　ran　off　to　find　her。
After　running　to　Sonya’s　room；　and　not　finding　her　there；　Natasha　ran　to　the　nursery：　Sonya　was　not　there　either。　Natasha　knew　that　she　must　be　on　the　chest　in　the　corridor。　The　chest　in　the　corridor　was　the　scene　of　the　woes　of　the　younger　feminine　generation　of　the　house　of　Rostov。　Yes；　Sonya　was　on　the　chest；　lying　face　downwards；　crushing　her　gossamer　pink　frock　on　their　old　nurse’s　dirty　striped　feather…bed。　Her　face　hidden　in　her　fingers；　she　was　sobbing；　and　her　little　bare　shoulders　were　heaving。　Natasha’s　birthday　face　that　had　been　festive　and　excited　all　day；　changed　at　once；　her　eyes　wore　a　fixed　look；　then　her　broad　neck　quivered；　and　the　corners　of　her　lips　drooped。
“Sonya！　what　is　it？　…　what’s　the　matter　with　you？　Oo…oo…oo！　…”　and　Natasha；　letting　her　big　mouth　drop　open　and　becoming　quite　ugly；　wailed　like　a　baby；　not　knowing　why；　simply　because　Sonya　was　crying。　Sonya　tried　to　lift　up　her　head；　tried　to　answer；　but　could　not；　and　buried　her　face　more　than　ever。　Natasha　cried；　sitting　on　the　edge　of　the　blue　feather…bed　and　hugging　her　friend。　Making　an　effort；　Sonya　got　up；　began　to　dry　her　tears　and　to　talk。
“Nikolinka’s　going　away　in　a　week；　his　…　paper　…　has　come　…　he　told　me　himself。　…　But　still　I　shouldn’t　cry　…”　（she　showed　a　sheet　of　paper　she　was　holding　in　her　hand；　on　it　were　verses　written　by　Nikolay）。　“I　shouldn’t　have　cried；　but　you　can’t　…　no　one　can　understand　…　what　a　soul　he　has。”
And　again　she　fell　to　weeping　at　the　thought　of　how　noble　his　soul　was。
“It’s　all　right　for　you　…　I’m　not　envious　…　I　love　you　and　Boris　too；”　she　said；　controlling　herself　a　little；　“he’s　so　nice　…　there　are　no　difficulties　in　your　way。　But　Nikolay’s　my　cousin　…　the　metropolitan　chief　priest　himself　…　has　to　…　or　else　it’s　impossible。　And　so；　if　mamma’s　told”　（Sonya　looked　on　the　countess　and　addressed　her　as　a　mother）；　“she’ll　say　that　I’m　spoiling　Nikolay’s　career；　that　I　have　no　heart；　that　I’m　ungrateful；　though　really　…　in　God’s　name”　（she　made　the　sign　of　the　cross）　“I　love　her　so；　and　all　of　you；　only　Vera　…　Why　is　it？　What　have　I　done　to　her？　I　am　so　grateful　to　you　that　I　would　be　glad　to　sacrifice　everything　for　you；　but　I　have　nothing。　…”
Sonya　could　say　no　more；　and　again　she　buried　her　head　in　her　hands　and　the　feather…bed。　Natasha　tried　to　comfort　her；　but　her　face　showed　that　she　grasped　all　the　gravity　of　her　friend’s　trouble。
“Sonya！”　she　said　all　at　once；　as　though　she　had　guessed　the　real　cause　of　her　cousin’s　misery；　“of　course　Vera’s　been　talking　to　you　since　dinner？　Yes？”
“Yes；　these　verses　Nikolay　wrote　himself；　and　I　copied　some　others；　and　she　found　them　on　my　table；　and　said　she　should　show　them　to　mamma；　and　she　said　too　that　I　was　ungrateful；　and　that　mamma　would　never　allow　him　to　marry　me；　but　that　he　would　marry　Julie。　You　see　how　he　has　been　with　her　all　day　…　Natasha！　why　is　it？”
And　again　she　sobbed　more　bitterly　than　ever。　Natasha　lifted　her　up；　hugged　her；　and；　smiling　through　her　tears；　began　comforting　her。
“Sonya；　don’t　you　believe　her；　darling；　don’t　believe　her。　Do　you　remember　how　we　talked　with　Nikolay；　all　three　of　us　together；　in　the　divan…room；　do　you　remember；　after　supper？　Why；　we　settled　how　it　should　all　be。　I　don’t　quite　remember　now；　but　do　you　remember；　it　was　all　right　and　all　possible。　Why；　uncle　Shinshin’s　brother　is　married　to　his　first　cousin；　and　we’re　only　second　cousins；　you　know。　And　Boris　said　that　it’s　quite　easily　arranged。　You　know　I　told　him　all　about　it。　He’s　so　clever　and　so　good；”　said　Natasha。　…　“Don’t　cry；　Sonya；　darling；　sweet　one；　precious；　Sonya；”　and　she　kissed　her；　laughing。　“Vera　is　spiteful；　never　mind　her！　and　it　will　all　come　right　and　she　won’t　tell　mamma。　Nikolinka　will　tell　her　himself；　and　he’s　never　thought　of　Julie。”
And　she　kissed　her　on　the　head。　Sonya　got　up；　and　the　kitten　revived；　its　eyes　sparkled；　and　it　was　ready；　it　seemed；　to　wag　its　tail；　spring　on　its　soft　paws　and　begin　to　play　with　a　ball；　in　its　own　natural；　kittenish　way。
“Do　you　think　so？　Really？　Truly？”　she　said　rapidly；　smoothing　her　frock　and　her　hair。
“Really；　truly；”　answered　Natasha；　putting　back　a　stray　coil　of　rough　hair　on　her　friend’s　head；　and　they　both　laughed。　“Well；　come　along　and　sing　the　‘Spring。’　”
“Let’s　go；　then。”
“And　do　you　know　that　fat　Pierre；　who　was　sitting　opposite　me；　he’s　so　funny！”　Natasha　said　suddenly；　stopping。　“I　am　enjoying　myself　so；”　and　Natasha　ran　along　the　corridor。
Brushing　off　the　feather　fluff　from　her　frock；　and　thrusting　the　verses　into　her　bodice　next　her　little　throat　and　prominent　breast…bones；　Sonya　ran　with　flushed　face　and　light；　happy　steps；　following　Natasha　along　the　corridor　to　the　divan…room。　At　the　request　of　their　guests　the　young　people　sang　the　quartette　the　“Spring；”　with　which　every　one　was　delighted；　then　Nikolay　sang　a　song　he　had　lately　learnt。
“How　sweet　in　the　moon’s　kindly　ray；
In　fancy　to　thyself　to　say；
That　earth　holds　still　one　dear　to　thee！
Whose　thoughts；　whose　dreams　are　all　of　thee！
That　her　fair　fingers　as　of　old
Stray　still　upon　the　harp　of　gold；
Making　sweet；　passionate　harmony；
That　to　her　side　doth　summon　thee！
To…morrow　and　thy　bliss　is　near！
Alas！　all’s　past！　she　is　not　here！”
And　he　had　hardly　sung　the　last　words　when　the　young　people　were　getting　ready　to　dance　in　the　big　hall；　and　the　musicians　began　stamping　with　their　feet　and　coughing　in　the　orchestra。
Pierre　was　sitting　in　the　drawing…room；　where　Shinshin　had　started　a　conversation　with　him　on　the　political　situation；　as　a　subject　likely　to　be　of　interest　to　any　one　who　had　just　come　home　from　abroad；　though　it　did　not　in　fact　interest　Pierre。　Several　other　persons　joined　in　the　conversation。　Whe