战争与和平(上)-第151章

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ed　by　the　sentinels　of　the　French　cavalry。
A　French　subaltern　of　hussars；　in　a　crimson　uniform　and　a　fur　cap；　shouted　to　Balashov　to　stop。　Balashov　did　not　immediately　obey；　but　went　on　advancing　along　the　road　at　a　walking　pace。
The　subaltern；　with　scowls　and　muttered　abuse；　swooped　down　upon　Balashov；　drew　his　sword；　and　shouted　rudely　to　the　Russian　general：　“Was　he　deaf　that　he　did　not　hear　when　he　was　spoken　to？”　Balashov　gave　him　his　name。　The　subaltern　sent　a　soldier　to　his　superior　officer。
Paying　no　further　attention　to　Balashov；　the　subaltern　began　talking　with　his　comrades　about　regimental　matters；　without　looking　at　the　Russian　general。　It　was　an　exceedingly　strange　sensation　for　Balashov；　who　was　used　at　all　times　to　the　dignities　of　his　position；　was　always　in　contact　with　the　highest　power　and　authority；　and　only　three　hours　before　had　been　conversing　with　the　Tsar；　to　be　brought　here　on　Russian　soil　into　collision　with　this　hostile；　and　still　more；　disrespectful　display　of　brute　force。
The　sun　was　only　beginning　to　rise　behind　storm…clouds；　the　air　was　fresh　and　dewy。　A　herd　of　cattle　was　being　driven　along　the　road　from　the　village。　Larks　sprang　up　trilling　one　after　another　in　the　fields；　like　bubbles　rising　to　the　surface　of　water。
Balashov　looked　about　him；　awaiting　the　arrival　of　the　officer　from　the　village。　The　Russian　Cossacks　and　trumpeter　and　the　French　hussars　looked　at　one　another　now　and　then　in　silence。
A　French　colonel　of　hussars；　evidently　only　just　out　of　bed；　came　riding　out　of　the　village　on　a　handsome；　sleek；　grey　horse；　accompanied　by　two　hussars。　The　officers；　the　soldiers；　and　the　horses　all　looked　smart　and　well　satisfied。
In　this　early　stage　of　the　campaign　the　troops　were　well　in　a　state　of　good　discipline；　in　good；　almost　parade；　order；　and　engaged　in　peaceful　pursuits；　with　a　shade　of　martial　swagger　in　their　dress；　and　a　shade　of　gaiety　and　spirit　of　adventure　in　their　temper　that　always　accompanies　the　commencement　of　a　war。
The　French　colonel　had　much　ado　to　suppress　his　yawns；　but　was　courteous　in　his　manner；　and　evidently　understood　all　the　importance　of　Balashov’s　position。　He　led　him　past　the　line　of　outposts；　and　informed　him　that　his　desire　to　be　presented　to　the　Emperor　would　in　all　probability　immediately　be　satisfied；　as　the　Emperor’s　quarters　were；　he　believed；　not　far　off。
They　rode　through　the　village　of　Rykonty；　past　French　picket　ropes；　sentinels；　and　soldiers；　who　saluted　their　colonel　and　stared　with　curiosity　at　the　Russian　uniform。　They　came　out　on　the　other　side　of　the　village；　and　the　colonel　told　Balashov　that　they　were　only　two　kilometres　from　the　commander　of　the　division；　who　would　receive　him　and　conduct　him　to　his　destination。
The　sun　had　by　now　fully　risen　and　was　shining　cheerfully　on　the　bright　green　fields。
They　had　just　passed　an　inn　and　were　riding　uphill　when　a　party　of　horsemen　came　riding　downhill　towards　them。　The　foremost　figure　was　a　tall　man；　in　a　hat　with　plumes；　mounted　on　a　raven　horse；　with　trappings　glittering　in　the　sun。　He　had　a　scarlet　cloak；　and　curly　black　hair；　that　floated　on　his　shoulders；　and　he　rode　in　the　French　fashion；　with　his　long　legs　thrust　out　in　front。　This　personage　galloped　towards　Balashov；　with　his　jewels　and　gold　lace　and　feathers　all　fluttering　and　glittering　in　the　bright　June　sun。
Balashov　was　some　ten　yards　from　this　majestically　theatrical　figure　in　bracelets；　feathers；　necklaces；　and　gold；　when　Julner；　the　French　colonel；　whispered　to　him　reverentially；　“The　King　of　Naples！”　It　was　in　fact　Murat；　who　was　now　styled　the　“King　of　Naples。”　Though　it　was　utterly　incomprehensible　that　he　should　be　the　King　of　Naples；　he　was　addressed　by　that　title；　and　was　himself　persuaded　of　his　royal　position；　and　consequently　behaved　with　an　air　of　greater　solemnity　and　dignity　than　heretofore。　So　firmly　did　he　believe　that　he　really　was　the　King　of　Naples；　that　when；　just　before　leaving　Naples；　he　was　greeted　by　some　Italians　with　shouts　of　“Long　live　the　King！”　when　walking　in　the　streets　with　his　wife；　he　turned　to　her　with　a　pensive　smile　and　said；　“Poor　fellows；　they　don’t　know　I　am　quitting　them　to…morrow。”
But　though　he　believed　so　implicitly　that　he　was　King　of　Naples；　and　sympathised　with　his　subjects’　grief　at　losing　him；　after　he　had　been　commanded　to　return　to　the　service；　and　especially　after　his　interview　with　Napoleon　at　Danzig；　when　his　most　august　brother…in…law　had　said；　“I　have　made　you　king　that　you　may　rule　in　my　way；　and　not　in　your　own；”　he　had　cheerfully　resumed　his　familiar　duties；　and；　like　a　well…fed；　but　not　over…fed　stallion　feeling　himself　in　harness；　prancing　in　the　shafts；　and　decked　out　in　all　possible　motley　magnificence；　he　went　galloping　along　the　roads　of　Poland；　with　no　notion　where　or　why　he　was　going。
On　seeing　the　Russian　general　he　made　a　royal；　majestic　motion　of　his　head　with　his　floating　curls；　and　looked　inquiringly　at　the　French　colonel。　The　colonel　deferentially　informed　his　majesty　of　the　mission　of　Balashov；　whose　name　he　could　not　pronounce。　“De　Bal…macheve！”　said　the　King；　resolutely　attacking　and　vanquishing　the　colonel’s　difficulty。　“Charmed　to　make　your　acquaintance；　general；”　he　added；　with　a　gesture　of　royal　condescension。　As　soon　as　the　King　spoke　loudly　and　rapidly；　all　his　royal　dignity　instantly　deserted　him；　and；　without　himself　being　aware　of　it；　he　passed　into　the　tone　of　good…humoured　familiarity　natural　to　him。　He　laid　his　hand　on　the　forelock　of　Balashov’s　horse。　“Well；　general；　everything　looks　like　war；”　he　said；　as　it　were　regretting　a　circumstance　on　which　he　could　not　offer　an　opinion。　“Your　majesty；”　answered　Balashov；　“the　Emperor；　my　master；　does　not　desire　war；　and　as　your　majesty　sees。”　Balashov　declined　“your　majesty”　in　all　its　cases；　using　the　title　with　an　affectation　inevitable　in　addressing　a　personage　for　whom　such　a　title　was　a　novelty。
Murat’s　face　beamed　with　foolish　satisfaction　as　he　listened　to　“Monsieur　de　Balacheff。”　But　royalty　has　its　obligations。　He　felt　it　incumbent　on　him　to　converse　with　Alexander’s　envoy　on　affairs　of　state　as　a　king　and　an　ally。　He　dismounted；　and　taking　Balashov’s　arm；　and　moving　a　little　away　from　the　suite；　who　remained　respectfully　waiting；　he　began　walking　up　and　down　with　him；　trying　to　speak　with　grave　significance。　He　mentioned　that　the　Emperor　Napoleon　had　been　offended　at　the　demand　that　his　troops　should　evacuate　Prussia；　especially　because　that　demand　had　been　made　public；　and　was　so　derogatory　to　the　dignity　of　France。　Balashov　said　that　there　was　nothing　derogatory　in　that　demand；　seeing　that…Murat　interrupted　him。
“So　you　consider　that　the　Emperor　Alexander　is　not　responsible　for　the　commencement　of　hostilities？”　he　said　suddenly；　with　a　foolish　and　good…humoured　smile。
Balashov　began　to　explain　why　he　did　consider　that　Napoleon　was　responsible　for　the　war。
“Ah；　my　dear　general；”　Murat　interrupted　him　again；　“with　all　my　heart　I　wish　that　the　Emperors　would　settle　the　matter　between　themselves；　and　that　the　war；　which　has　been　begun　by　no　desire　of　mine；　may　be　concluded　as　quickly　as　possible；”　he　said　in　the　tone　in　which　servants　speak　who　are　anxious　to　remain　on　friendly　terms　though　their　masters　have　quarrelled。　And　he　changed　the　subject；　inquiring　after　the　health　of　the　Grand　Duke；　and　recalling　the　agreeable　time　he　had　spent　with　him　in　Naples。　Then　suddenly；　as　though　recollecting　his　royal　dignity；　Murat　drew　himself　up　majestically；　threw　himself　into　the　pose　in　which　he　had　stood　at　his　coronation；　and　waving　his　right　arm；　said：　“I　will　detain　you　no　longer；　general；　I　wish　you　success　in　your　mission。”　And；　with　a　flutter　of　his　scarlet　cloak　and　his　feathers；　and　a　flash　of　his　precious　stones；　he　rejoined　the　suite；　who　were　respectfully　awaiting　him。
Balashov　rode　on　further；　expecting　from　Murat’s　words　that　he　would　be　very　shortly　brought　before　Napoleon　himself。　But　at　the　next　village　he　was　detained　by　the　sentinels　of　Davoust’s　infantry　corps；　just　as　he　had　been　at　the　outposts。　An　adjutant　of　the　commander　of　that　corps　was　sent　for　to　conduct　him　to　the　village　to　see　Marshal　Davoust。


Chapter　5
DAVOUST　was　to　the　Emperor　Napoleon　what　Araktcheev　was　to　Alexander。　Davoust　was　not　like　Araktcheev　a　coward；　but　he　was　as　exacting　and　as　cruel；　and　as　unable　to　express　his　devotion　except　by　cruelty。
In　the　mechanism　of　the　state　organism　these　men　are　as　necessary　as　wolves　in　the　organism　of　nature。　And　they　are　always　to　be　found　in　every　government；　they　always　make　their　appearance　and　hold　their　own；　incongruous　as　their　presence　and　their　close　relations　with　the　head　of　the　state　may　appear。　It　is　only　on　the　theory　of　this　necessity　that　one　can　explain　the　fact　that　a　man　so　cruel—capable　of　pulling　out　grenadiers’　moustaches　with　his　own　hand—though　unable；　from　the　weakness　of　his　nerves；　to　face　danger；　so　uncultured；　so　boorish　as　Araktcheev；　was　able　to　retain　such　influence　with　a　sovereign　of　chivalrous　tenderness　and　nobility　of　character　like　Alexander。
Balashov　found　Davoust　sitting　on　a　tub　in　a　barn　adjoining　a　peasant’s　hut。　He　was　occupied　in　writing；　auditing　accounts。　An　adjutant　was　standing　beside　him。　Better　quarters　could　have　been　found；　but　Marshal　Davoust　was　one　of　these　people　who　purposely　put　themselves　into　the　most　dismal　conditions　of　life　in　order　to　have　a　right　to　be　dismal。　For　the　same　reason　they　always　persist　in　being　busy　and　in　a　hurry。
“How　could　one　be　thinking　of　the　bright　side　of　life　when；　as　you　see；　I　am　sitting　on　a　tub　in　a　dirty　barn；　hard　at　work？”　was　what　his　face　expressed。
The　great　desire　and　delight　of　such　people　on　meeting　others　enjoying　life　is　to　throw　their　own　gloomy；　dogged　activity　into　their　faces。　Davoust　gave　himself　that　satisfaction　when　Balashov　was　brought　in。　He　appeared　even　more　deeply　engrossed　in　his　work　when　the　Russian　general　entered；　and　glancing　through　his　spectacles　at　the　face　of　Balashov；　who　looked　cheerful　from　the　brightness　of　the　morning　and　his　talk　with　Murat；　he　did　not　get　up；　did　not　stir　even；　but　scowled　more　than　before；　and　grinned　malignantly。
Observing　the　disagreeable　impression　made　on　Balashov　by　this　reception；　Davoust　raised　his　head；　and　asked　him　frigidly　what　he　wanted。
Assuming　that　such　a　reception　could　only　be　due　to　Davoust’s　being　unaware　that　he　was　a　general　on　the　staff　of　Alexander；　and　his　representative　indeed　before　Napoleon；　Balashov　hastened　to　inform　him　of　his　rank　and　his　mission。　But；　contrary　to　his　expectations；　Davoust　became　even　surlier　and　ruder　on　hearing　Balashov’s　words。
“Where　is　your　despatch？”　he　said。　“Give　it　to　me。　I　will　send　it　to　the　Emperor。”
Balashov　said　that　he　was　under　orders　to　hand　the　document　to　the　Emperor　in　person。
“The　commands　of　your　Emperor　are　obeyed　in　your　army；　but　here；”　said　Davoust；　“you　must　do　what　you　are　told。”
And；　as　though　to　make　the　Russian　general　still　more　sensible　of　his　dependence　on　brute　force；　Davoust　sent　the　adjutant　for　the　officer　on　duty。
Balashov　took　out　the　packet　that　contained　the　Tsar’s　letter；　and　laid　it　on　the　table　（a　table　consisting　of　a　door　laid　across　two　tubs　with　the　hinge