战争与和平(上)-第181章

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Rostov　and　Ilyin　were　in　the　liveliest　spirits。　On　the　way　to　Bogutcharovo；　which　they　knew　to　be　an　estate　belonging　to　a　prince；　with　a　manor…house；　where　they　hoped　to　find　a　large　household；　and；　perhaps；　pretty　servant…girls；　they　questioned　Lavrushka　about　Napoleon；　and　laughed　at　his　stories；　then　raced　their　horses　to　test　Ilyin’s　new　purchase。　Rostov　had　no　notion　that　the　village　to　which　he　was　going　was　the　property　of　the　very　Prince　Bolkonsky　who　had　been　betrothed　to　his　sister。
Rostov　and　Ilyin　had　just　let　their　horses　race　till　they　were　weary　for　the　last　time　before　Bogutcharovo；　and　Rostov；　outstripping　Ilyin　was　the　first　to　gallop　into　the　village　street。
“You　started　in　front；”　said　Ilyin；　flushed。
“Yes；　always　in　front；　in　the　meadow　and　here　too；”　answered　Rostov；　patting　his　foaming　Don　horse。
“And　on　my　Frenchy；　your　excellency；”　said　Lavrushka　from　behind；　meaning　the　wretched　cart…horse　he　was　riding；　“I　could　have　overtaken　you；　only　I　didn’t　want　to　put　you　to　shame。”
They　rode　at　a　walking　pace　towards　the　granary；　where　there　was　a　great　crowd　of　peasants　standing。　Several　of　the　peasants　took　off　their　caps；　others　stared　at　them　without　taking　off　their　caps。　Two　old　peasants；　with　wrinkled　faces　and　scanty　beards；　came　out　of　the　tavern；　reeling　and　singing　a　tuneless　song；　and　advanced　with　smiles　towards　the　officers。　“They’re　fine　fellows！”　said　Rostov；　laughing。　“Well；　have　you　any　hay？”
“And　so　alike；　somehow　…”　said　Ilyin。
“Ma　…　a　…　aking　mer　…　ry　in　my　sum　…　sum　…　mer　…”　chanted　the　peasant；　with　a　blissful　smile。
A　peasant　came　out　of　the　crowd　and　went　up　to　Rostov。
“Which　part　will　you　be　from？”　asked　the　peasant。
“We’re　French；”　answered　Ilyin；　laughing。　“And　this　is　Napoleon　himself；”　he　said；　pointing　to　Lavrushka。
“I　suppose　you　are　Russians　then？”　the　peasant　inquired。
“And　have　you　many　troops　here？”　asked　another　short　peasant；　approaching。
“A　great　many；”　answered　Rostov。　“But　why　are　you　all　assembled　here？”　he　added。　“Is　it　a　holiday　or　what？”
“The　old　men　are　met　about　the　village　business；”　answered　the　peasant；　moving　away　from　him。
At　that　moment　there　came　into　sight　two　women　and　a　man　in　a　white　hat　running　from　the　prince’s　house　towards　the　officers。
“The　one　in　pink’s　mine；　hands　off；　beware！”　said　Ilyin；　noticing　Dunyasha　running　resolutely　towards　them。
“She’ll　be　the　girl　for　us！”　said　Lavrushka；　winking　to　Ilyin。
“What　is　it　you　want；　my　pretty？”　said　Ilyin；　smiling。
“The　princess　sent　me　to　ask　of　what　regiment　are　you；　and　what　is　your　name？”
“This　is　Count　Rostov；　the　commander　of　the　squadron；　and　I　am　your　humble　servant。”
“Mer　…　mer　…　mer　…　arbour！”　chanted　the　drunken　peasant；　smiling　blissfully；　and　gazing　at　Ilyin　as　he　talked　to　the　girl。　Alpatitch　followed　Dunyasha；　taking　off　his　hat　to　Rostov　as　he　approached。
“I　make　bold　to　trouble　your　honour；”　he　said；　putting　one　hand　in　his　bosom；　and　speaking　with　a　respectfulness　in　which　there　was　a　shade　of　contempt　for　the　officer’s　youth。　“My　mistress；　the　daughter　of　general…in…chief　Prince　Nikolay　Andreitch　Bolkonsky；　who　died　on　the　15th　of　this　month；　being　in　difficulties　owing　to　the　coarse　ignorance　of　those　people”—he　pointed　to　the　peasants—“begs　you　to　come　…　Would　you　not　be　pleased；”　said　Alpatitch；　with　a　melancholy　smile；　“to　move　a　little　away；　as　it　is　not　so　convenient　before　…”　Alpatitch　indicated　two　peasants；　who　were　hovering　about　him；　like　gadflies　about　a　horse。
“Ay！　…　Alpatitch！　…　Ay！　Yakov　Alpatitch！　first…rate　job！　Eh？　…　for　Christ’s　sake；　forgive　us。　First…rate！　ay？”　cried　the　peasants；　smiling　gleefully　at　him。
Rostov　looked　at　the　drunken　peasants；　and　smiled。
“Or　possibly　this　entertains　your　excellency？”　said　Yakov　Alpatitch；　with　a　sober　air；　pointing　with　his　other　hand　to　the　old　peasants。
“No；　there’s　nothing　very　entertaining　in　that；”　said　Rostov；　and　he　moved　away。　“What　is　the　matter？”　he　inquired。
“I　make　bold　to　submit　to　your　excellency　that　the　rude　peasants　here　will　not　let　their　lady　leave　the　estate；　and　threaten　to　take　the　horses　out　of　her　carriage；　so　that　everything　has　been　packed　since　morning；　yet　her　excellency　cannot　get　away。”
“Impossible！”　cried　Rostov。
“I　have　the　honour　of　submitting　to　you　the　simple　truth；”　said　Alpatitch。
Rostov　got　off　his　horse；　and　giving　it　to　the　orderly；　walked　with　Alpatitch　to　the　house；　questioning　him　further　about　the　state　of　affairs。
The　princess’s　offer　of　corn；　and　her　interview　with　Dron　and　with　the　peasants；　had；　in　fact；　made　the　position　so　much　worse　that　Dron　had　finally　given　up　the　keys　of　office；　joined　the　peasants　and　refused　to　appear　when　Alpatitch　sent　for　him。　In　the　morning　when　the　princess　ordered　the　horses　to　be　put　in　for　her　to　set　off；　the　peasants　had　come　out　in　a　great　crowd　to　the　granary；　and　had　sent　to　say　that　they　would　not　let　the　princess　go　out　of　the　village；　that　there　was　an　edict　that　people　were　not　to　leave　their　houses；　and　that　they　would　unharness　the　horses。　Alpatitch　went　out　to　lecture　them；　in　reply　they　told　him　（a　certain　Karp　was　the　principal　speaker；　Dron　kept　in　the　background　in　the　crowd）　that　the　princess　could　not　be　allowed　to　go；　that　there　was　an　edict　forbidding　it；　but　that　only　let　her　stay；　and　they　would　serve　her　and　obey　her　in　everything　as　before。
At　the　moment　when　Rostov　and　Ilyin　were　galloping　along　the　village　street；　regardless　of　the　efforts　of　Alpatitch；　the　old　nurse；　and　the　maid　to　dissuade　her；　Princess　Marya　had　just　ordered　the　horses　to　be　put　in；　and　was　intending　to　start。　But　seeing　the　horsemen　galloping　up；　the　coachmen　took　them　for　the　French；　and　ran　away；　and　a　great　lamentation　arose　among　the　women　of　the　household。
“Kind　sir！　protector！　God　has　sent　thee；”　cried　voices；　with　much　feeling；　as　Rostov　crossed　the　vestibule。　Princess　Marya　was　sitting　helpless　and　distraught　in　the　hall；　when　Rostov　was　shown　in　to　see　her。　She　did　not　know　who　he　was；　or　what　brought　him　there；　or　what　was　happening　to　her。　Seeing　his　Russian　face；　and　recognising　him　at　his　first　words　and　gait　for　a　man　of　her　own　rank；　she　looked　at　him；　with　her　deep；　luminous　gaze；　and　began　speaking　in　a　voice；　broken　and　trembling　with　emotion。　Rostov　at　once　conceived　a　romance　in　this　meeting。　“A　defenceless　girl；　crushed　by　sorrow；　alone；　abandoned　to　the　mercy　of　coarse；　rebellious　peasants！　And　what　strange　destiny　has　brought　me　here！”　thought　Rostov；　as　he　listened　to　her　and　looked　at　her。　“And　what　mildness；　what　nobility　in　her　features　and　expression！”　he　thought；　as　he　listened　to　her　timid　story。
When　she　began　to　tell　him　that　all　this　had　happened　the　day　after　her　father’s　funeral；　her　voice　trembled。　She　turned　away；　and　as　though　afraid　Rostov　might　ascribe　her　words　to　a　desire　to　work　on　his　feelings；　she　glanced　at　him　with　a　look　of　apprehensive　inquiry。　There　were　tears　in　Rostov’s　eyes。　Princess　Marya　noticed　it；　and　looked　at　him　with　the　luminous　eyes　that　made　one　forget　the　plainness　of　her　face。
“I　cannot　express　how　glad　I　am；　princess；　that　I　happened　to　come　this　way；　and　am　able　to　serve　you　in　anything；”　said　Rostov；　rising。　“I　trust　you　will　start　at　once；　and　I　answer　for　it　on　my　honour；　no　person　shall　dare　to　cause　you　annoyance；　if　you　will　only　permit　me　to　escort　you；”　and　making　a　deep　bow；　such　as　are　made　to　ladies　of　the　royal　family；　he　turned　to　the　door。
By　the　respectfulness　of　his　tone；　Rostov　tried　to　show　that　though　he　would　consider　it　a　happiness　to　be　acquainted　with　her；　he　did　not　wish　to　take　advantage　of　her　misfortune　to　force　an　acquaintanceship　upon　her。
Princess　Marya　felt　and　appreciated　this　tone。
“I　am　very；　very　grateful　to　you；”　she　said　to　him　in　French；　“but　I　hope　it　was　all　only　a　misunderstanding；　and　that　no　one　is　to　blame。”　She　began　all　at　once　to　cry。
“Excuse　me；”　she　said。
Rostov；　knitting　his　brows；　bowed　low　once　more；　and　went　out　of　the　room。


Chapter　14
“WELL；　is　she　pretty？　But；　my　boy；　my　pink　girl’s　charming；　her　name　is　Dunyasha。”　…　But　glancing　into　Rostov’s　face；　Ilyin　paused。　He　saw　his　hero　and　superior　officer　was　absorbed　in　a　very　different　train　of　thought。
Rostov　looked　angrily　at　Ilyin；　and　without　replying；　strode　off　rapidly　to　the　village。
“I’ll　teach　them；　I’ll　pay　them　out；　the　scoundrels；”　he　muttered　to　himself。
Alpatitch　followed　Rostov　at　a　quick　trot；　which　he　could　only　just　keep　from　breaking　into　a　run。
“What　decision　has　your　honour　come　to？”　he　said；　overtaking　him。　Rostov　stopped　short；　and　clenching　his　fists　moved　suddenly　up　to　Alpatitch　with　a　menacing　gesture。
“Decision？　What　decision；　old　shuffler？”　he　shouted。　“What　have　you　been　thinking　about？　Eh？　The　peasants　are　unruly　and　you　don’t　know　how　to　manage　them？　You’re　a　traitor　yourself。　I　know　you。　I’ll　flog　the　skin　off　the　lot　of　you　…”　And；　as　though　afraid　of　wasting　the　energy　of　his　anger；　he　left　Alpatitch　and　went　quickly　ahead。　Alpatitch；　swallowing　his　wounded　feelings；　hurried　with　a　swaying　step　after　Rostov；　still　giving　him　the　benefit　of　his　reflections　on　the　subject。　He　said　that　the　peasants　were　in　a　very　stubborn　state；　that　at　the　moment　it　was　imprudent　to　oppositionise　them；　without　an　armed　force；　and　would　it　not　be　better　first　to　send　for　armed　force。
“I’ll　give　them　armed　force。　…　I’ll　oppositionise　them　…”　Nikolay　muttered　meaninglessly；　choking　with　irrational　animal　rage　and　desire　to　vent　that　rage　on　some　one。　Without　considering　what　he　was　going　to　do；　unconsciously；　he　moved　with　a　rapid；　resolute　step　up　to　the　crowd。　And　the　nearer　he　approached；　the　more　Alpatitch　felt　that　his　imprudent　action　might　produce　the　happiest　results。　The　peasants　in　the　crowd　were　feeling　the　same　thing　as　they　watched　his　firm　and　rapid　step　and　determined；　frowning　face。
After　the　hussars　had　entered　the　village　and　Rostov　had　gone　in　to　see　the　princess；　a　certain　hesitation　and　division　of　opinion　had　become　apparent　in　the　crowd。　Some　of　the　peasants　began　to　say　that　the　horsemen　were　Russians；　and　it　might　be　expected　they　would　take　it　amiss　that　they　had　not　let　their　young　lady　go。　Dron　was　of　that　opinion；　but　as　soon　as　he　expressed　it；　Karp　and　others　fell　upon　him。
“How　many　years　have　you　been　fattening　on　the　village？”　shouted　Karp。　“It’s　all　one　to　you！　You’ll　dig　up　your　pot　of　money　and　make　off　with　it。　What　is　it　to　you　if　our　homes　are　ruined　or　not？”
“We　were　told　everything　was　to　be　in　order　and　no　one　to　leave　their　homes；　and　not　a　thing　to　be　moved　away—and　that’s　all　about　it！”　shouted　another。
“It　was　your　son’s　turn；　but　you　spared　your　fat　youngster；”　a　little　old　man　suddenly　burst　out；　pouncing　upon　Dron；　“and　sent　my　Vanka　to　be　shaved　for　a　soldier。　Ugh；　and　yet　we　all　have　to　die！”
“To　be　sure；　we　all　have　to　die！”
“I’m　not　one　to　go　against　the　mir；”　said　Dron。
“Not　one　to　go　against　it；　you　have　grown　fat　off　it。”　…
Two　lanky　peasants　said　their　say。　As　soon　as　Rostov；　accompanied　by　Ilyin；　Lavrushka；　and　Alpatitch　approached　the　crowd；　Karp；　thrusting　his　fingers　into　his　sash；　walked　forward　with　a　slight　smile