战争与和平(上)-第19章

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r　up　to　him；　and　was　leaning　on　the　back　of　it　with　his　left　hand；　in　which　he　held　a　candle；　while　with　his　right　he　crossed　himself；　turning　his　eyes　upwards　every　time　as　he　put　his　finger　to　his　forehead。　His　face　expressed　quiet　piety　and　submission　to　the　will　of　God。　“If　you　don’t　understand　such　feelings；　so　much　the　worse　for　you；”　his　face　seemed　to　say。
Behind　him　stood　the　adjutant；　the　doctors；　and　the　men…servants；　the　men　and　the　women　had　separated　as　though　they　were　in　church。　All　were　silently　crossing　themselves；　nothing　was　audible　but　the　reading　of　the　service；　the　subdued；　deep　bass　singing；　and　in　the　intervals　of　silence　sighs　could　be　heard　and　the　shuffling　of　feet。　With　a　significant　air；　which　showed　she　knew　what　she　was　about；　Anna　Mihalovna　walked　right　across　the　room　to　Pierre　and　gave　him　a　candle。　He　lighted　it；　and　absorbed　in　watching　the　people　around　him；　he　absent…mindedly　crossed　himself　with　the　hand　in　which　he　held　the　candle。　The　youngest　princess；　Sophie；　the　rosy；　laughing　one　with　the　mole；　was　looking　at　him。　She　smiled；　hid　her　face　in　her　handkerchief；　and　for　a　long　while　did　not　uncover　it。　But　looking　at　Pierre　again；　again　she　laughed。　She　was　apparently　unable　to　look　at　him　without　laughing；　but　could　not　resist　looking　at　him；　and　to　be　out　of　temptation；　she　softly　moved　behind　a　column。　In　the　middle　of　the　service　the　voices　of　the　priests　suddenly　ceased；　and　they　whispered　something　to　one　another。　The　old　servant；　who　was　holding　the　count’s　hand；　got　up　and　turned　to　the　ladies。　Anna　Mihalovna　stepped　forward　and；　stooping　over　the　sick　man；　she　beckoned　behind　her　back　to　Lorrain。　The　French　doctor　had　been　leaning　against　the　column　without　a　candle；　in　the　respectful　attitude　of　the　foreigner；　who　would　show　that　in　spite　of　the　difference　of　religion　he　comprehends　all　the　solemnity　of　the　ceremony　and　even　approves　of　it。　With　the　noiseless　steps　of　a　man　in　full　vigour　of　his　age；　he　went　up　to　the　sick　man。　His　delicate；　white　fingers　lifted　his　disengaged　hand　from　the　quilt；　and　turning　away；　the　doctor　began　feeling　the　pulse　in　absorbed　attention。　They　gave　the　sick　man　some　drink；　there　was　a　slight　bustle　around　him；　then　all　went　back　to　their　places　and　the　service　was　continued。　During　this　break　in　the　proceedings　Pierre　noticed　that　Prince　Vassily　moved　away　from　his　chair…back；　and　with　that　same　air　of　being　quite　sure　of　what　he　was　about；　and　of　its　being　so　much　the　worse　for　others；　if　they　failed　to　understand　it；　he　did　not　go　up　to　the　sick　man；　but　passed　by　him　and　joined　the　eldest　princess。　Then　together　they　went　away　to　the　further　end　of　the　room　to　the　high　bedstead　under　the　silk　canopy。　When　they　moved　away　from　the　bed　the　prince　and　princess　disappeared　together　by　the　further　door；　but　before　the　end　of　the　service　they　returned　one　after　the　other　to　their　places。　Pierre　paid　no　more　attention　to　this　circumstance　than　to　all　the　rest；　having　once　for　all　made　up　his　mind　that　all　that　he　saw　taking　place　that　evening　must　inevitably　be　as　it　was。
The　sounds　of　the　church　singing　ceased　and　the　voice　of　the　chief　ecclesiastic　was　heard；　respectfully　congratulating　the　sick　man　on　his　reception　of　the　mystery。　The　dying　man　lay　as　lifeless　and　immovable　as　before。　Every　one　was　moving　about　him；　there　was　the　sound　of　footsteps　and　of　whispers；　Anna　Mihalovna’s　whisper　rising　above　the　rest。
Pierre　heard　her　say：　“Undoubtedly　he　must　be　moved　on　to　the　bed；　it’s　impossible　…”
The　sick　man　was　so　surrounded　by　the　doctors；　the　princesses　and　the　servants；　that　Pierre　could　no　longer　see　the　reddish…yellow　face　with　the　grey　mane；　which　he　had　never　lost　sight　of　for　one　instant　during　the　ceremony；　even　though　he　had　been　watching　other　people　too。　Pierre　guessed　from　the　cautious　movements　of　the　people　about　the　chair　that　they　were　lifting　the　dying　man　up　and　moving　him。
“Hold　on　to　my　arm；　you’ll　drop　him　so；”　he　heard　the　frightened　whisper　of　one　of　the　servants。　“Lower　down　…　another　one　here；”　said　voices。　And　their　heavy　breathing　and　hurried　tread　seemed　to　show　that　the　weight　they　carried　was　too　heavy　for　them。
As　they　passed　him—Anna　Mihalovna　among　them—the　young　man　caught　a　glimpse　over　people’s　backs　and　necks　of　the　great　muscular　open　chest；　the　grey；　curly；　leonine　head；　and　the　massive　shoulders　of　the　sick　man；　which　were　pushed　up；　as　he　was　supported　under　the　armpits。　His　head；　with　its　extraordinarily　broad　brow　and　cheek…bones；　its　beautiful　sensual　mouth；　and　haughty；　cold　eyes；　was　not　disfigured　by　the　proximity　of　death。　It　was　just　the　same　as　Pierre　had　seen　it　three　months　before；　when　his　father　had　been　sending　him　off　to　Petersburg。　But　the　head　swayed　helplessly　with　the　jerky　steps　of　the　bearers；　and　the　cold；　apathetic　eyes　did　not　know　on　what　to　rest。
They　were　busy　for　several　minutes　round　the　high　bed；　then　the　people；　who　had　moved　the　count；　dispersed。　Anna　Mihalovna　touched　Pierre’s　arm　and　said；　“Come　along。”　With　her　Pierre　approached　the　bed；　on　which　the　sick　man　had　been　laid　in　a　ceremonial　position　in　keeping　with　the　sacred　rite　that　had　just　been　performed。　He　was　lying　with　his　head　propped　high　on　the　pillows。　His　hands　were　laid　symmetrically　on　the　green　silk　quilt　with　the　palms　turned　downwards。　When　Pierre　came　up；　the　count　looked　straight　at　him；　but　he　looked　at　him　with　a　gaze　the　intent　and　significance　of　which　no　man　could　fathom。　Either　these　eyes　said　nothing；　but　simply　looked　because　as　eyes　they　must　look　at　something；　or　they　said　too　much。　Pierre　stopped；　not　knowing　what　he　was　to　do；　and　looked　inquiringly　at　his　monitress。　Anna　Mihalovna　gave　him　a　hurried　glance；　with　a　gesture　indicating　the　sick　man’s　hand　and　with　her　lips　wafting　towards　it　a　phantom　kiss。　Pierre　did　as　he　was　bid；　and　carefully　craning　his　neck　to　avoid　entanglement　with　the　quilt；　kissed　the　broad…boned；　muscular　hand。　There　was　not　the　faintest　stir　in　the　hand；　nor　in　any　muscle　of　the　count’s　face。　Pierre　again　looked　inquiringly　at　Anna　Mihalovna　to　learn　what　he　was　to　do　now。　Anna　Mihalovna　glanced　towards　the　armchair　that　stood　beside　the　bed。　Pierre　proceeded　obediently　to　sit　down　there；　his　eyes　still　inquiring　whether　he　had　done　the　right　thing。　Anna　Mihalovna　nodded　approvingly。　Again　Pierre　fell　into　the　na？vely　symmetrical　pose　of　an　Egyptian　statue；　obviously　distressed　that　his　ungainly　person　took　up　so　much　room；　and　doing　his　utmost　to　look　as　small　as　possible。　He　looked　at　the　count。　The　count　still　gazed　at　the　spot　where　Pierre’s　face　had　been；　when　he　was　standing　up。　Anna　Mihalovna’s　attitude　evinced　her　consciousness　of　the　touching　gravity　of　this　last　meeting　between　father　and　son。　It　lasted　for　two　minutes；　which　seemed　to　Pierre　an　hour。　Suddenly　a　shudder　passed　over　the　thick　muscles　and　furrows　of　the　count’s　face。　The　shudder　grew　more　intense；　the　beautiful　mouth　was　contorted　（it　was　only　then　that　Pierre　grasped　how　near　death　his　father　was）　and　from　the　contorted　mouth　there　came　a　husky；　muffled　sound。　Anna　Mihalovna　looked　intently　at　the　sick　man’s　mouth；　and　trying　to　guess　what　he　wanted；　pointed　first　to　Pierre；　then　to　some　drink；　then　in　an　inquiring　whisper　she　mentioned　the　name　of　Prince　Vassily；　then　pointed　to　the　quilt。　The　eyes　and　face　of　the　sick　man　showed　impatience。　He　made　an　effort　to　glance　at　the　servant；　who　never　moved　away　from　the　head　of　his　bed。
“His　excellency　wants　to　be　turned　over　on　the　other　side；”　whispered　the　servant；　and　he　got　up　to　turn　the　heavy　body　of　the　count　facing　the　wall。
Pierre　stood　up　to　help　the　servant。
While　the　count　was　being　turned　over；　one　of　his　arms　dragged　helplessly　behind；　and　he　made　a　vain　effort　to　pull　it　after　him。　Whether　the　count　noticed　the　face　of　horror　with　which　Pierre　looked　at　that　lifeless　arm；　or　whether　some　other　idea　passed　through　his　dying　brain；　he　looked　at　the　refractory　arm；　at　the　expression　of　horror　on　Pierre’s　face；　again　at　his　arm；　and　a　smile　came　on　his　face；　strangely　out　of　keeping　with　its　features；　a　weak；　suffering　smile；　which　seemed　mocking　at　his　own　helplessness。　Suddenly；　at　the　sight　of　that　smile；　Pierre　felt　a　lump　in　his　throat　and　a　tickling　in　his　nose；　and　tears　dimmed　his　eyes。　The　sick　man　was　turned　towards　the　wall。　He　sighed。
“He　has　fallen　into　a　doze；”　said　Anna　Mihalovna；　noticing　the　princess　coming　to　take　her　turn　by　the　bedside。　“Let　us　go。”
Pierre　went　out。


Chapter　21
THERE　WAS　by　now　no　one　in　the　reception…room　except　Prince　Vassily　and　the　eldest　princess；　who　were　in　eager　conversation　together；　sitting　under　the　portrait　of　Catherine。　They　were　mute　at　once　on　seeing　Pierre　and　his　companion；　and　the　princess　concealed　something　as　Pierre　fancied　and　murmured：　“I　can’t　stand　the　sight　of　that　woman。”
“Katish　has　had　tea　served　in　the　little　drawing…room；”　Prince　Vassily　said　to　Anna　Mihalovna。　“Go；　my　poor　Anna　Mihalovna；　take　something　or　you　will　not　hold　out。”
To　Pierre　he　said　nothing；　he　simply　pressed　his　arm　sympathetically。　Pierre　and　Anna　Mihalovna　went　on　into　the　little　drawing…room。
“There　is　nothing　so　reviving　as　a　cup　of　this　excellent　Russian　tea；　after　a　sleepless　night；”　said　Lorrain　with　an　air　of　restrained　briskness；　sipping　it　out　of　a　delicate　china　cup　without　a　handle；　as　he　stood　in　the　little　circular　drawing…room　close　to　a　table　laid　with　tea…things　and　cold　supper…dishes。　All　who　were　in　Count　Bezuhov’s　house　on　that　night　had；　with　a　view　to　fortifying　themselves；　gathered　around　the　table。　Pierre　remembered　well　that　little　circular　drawing…room　with　its　mirrors　and　little　tables。　When　there　had　been　balls　in　the　count’s　house；　Pierre；　who　could　not　dance；　had　liked　sitting　in　that　little　room　full　of　mirrors；　watching　the　ladies　in　ball…dresses　with　pearls　and　diamonds　on　their　bare　shoulders；　as　they　crossed　that　room　and　looked　at　themselves　in　the　brightly　lighted　mirrors　that　repeated　their　reflections　several　times。　Now　the　same　room　was　dimly　lighted　with　two　candles；　and　in　the　middle　of　the　night　the　tea…set　and　supper…dishes　stood　in　disorder　on　one　of　the　little　tables；　and　heterogeneous；　plainly　dressed　persons　were　sitting　at　it；　whispering　together；　and　showing　in　every　word　that　no　one　could　forget　what　was　passing　at　that　moment　and　what　was　still　to　come　in　the　bedroom。　Pierre　did　not　eat　anything；　though　he　felt　very　much　inclined　to。　He　looked　round　inquiringly　towards　his　monitress；　and　perceived　that　she　had　gone　out　again　on　tiptoe　into　the　reception…room　where　Prince　Vassily　had　remained　with　the　eldest　princess。　Pierre　supposed　that　this　too　was　an　inevitable　part　of　the　proceedings；　and；　after　a　little　delay；　he　followed　her。　Anna　Mihalovna　was　standing　beside　the　princess；　and　they　were　both　talking　at　once　in　excited　tones。
“Allow　me；　madam；　to　know　what　is　and　what　is　not　to　be　done；”　said　the　princess；　who　was　apparently　in　the　same　exasperated　temper　as　she　had　been　when　she　slammed　the　door　of　her　room。
“But；　dear　princess；”　Anna　Mihalovna　was　saying　mildly　and　persuasively；　blocking　up　the　way　towards　the　bedroom　and　not　letting　the　princess　pass。　“Would　that　not　be　too　great　a