战争与和平(上)-第20章

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“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　tax　on　poor　uncle　at　such　a　moment；　when　he　needs　repose？　At　such　moments　to　talk　of　worldly　matters　when　his　soul　is　already　prepared　…”
Prince　Vassily　was　sitting　in　a　low　chair　in　his　habitual　attitude；　with　one　leg　crossed　high　above　the　other。　His　cheeks　were　twitching　violently；　and　when　they　relaxed；　they　looked　heavier　below；　but　he　wore　the　air　of　a　man　little　interested　in　the　two　ladies’　discussion。
“No；　my　dear　Anna　Mihalovna；　let　Katish　act　on　her　own　discretion。　You　know　how　the　count　loves　her。”
“I　don’t　even　know　what　is　in　this　document；”　said　the　princess；　addressing　Prince　Vassily；　and　pointing　to　the　inlaid　portfolio　which　she　held　in　her　hand。　“All　I　know　is　that　the　real　will　is　in　the　bureau；　and　this　is　a　paper　that　has　been　forgotten。　…”
She　tried　to　get　round　Anna　Mihalovna；　but　the　latter；　with　another　little　skip；　barred　her　way　again。
“I　know；　dear；　sweet　princess；”　said　Anna　Mihalovna；　taking　hold　of　the　portfolio；　and　so　firmly　that　it　was　clear　she　would　not　readily　let　go　of　it　again。　“Dear　princess；　I　beg　you；　I　beseech　you；　spare　him。　I　entreat　you。”
The　princess　did　not　speak。　All　that　was　heard　was　the　sound　of　a　scuffle　over　the　portfolio。　There　could　be　no　doubt　that　if　she　were　to　speak；　she　would　say　nothing　complimentary　to　Anna　Mihalovna。　The　latter　kept　a　tight　grip；　but　in　spite　of　that　her　voice　retained　all　its　sweet　gravity　and　softness。
Pierre；　come　here；　my　dear　boy。　He　will　not　be　one　too　many；　I　should　imagine；　in　a　family　council；　eh；　prince？”
“Why　don’t　you　speak；　mon　cousin？”　the　princess　shrieked　all　of　a　sudden；　so　loudly　that　they　heard　her　voice；　and　were　alarmed　by　it　in　the　drawing…room。　“Why　don’t　you　speak　when　here　a　meddling　outsider　takes　upon　herself　to　interfere；　and　make　a　scene　on　the　very　threshold　of　a　dying　man’s　room？　Scheming　creature；”　she　muttered　viciously；　and　tugged　at　the　portfolio　with　all　her　might；　but　Anna　Mihalovna　took　a　few　steps　forward　so　as　not　to　lose　her　grasp　of　it　and　changed　hands。
“Ah；”　said　Prince　Vassily；　in　reproachful　wonder。　He　got　up。　“It　is　ridiculous。　Come；　let　go。　I　tell　you。”　The　princess　let　go。
“And　you。”
Anna　Mihalovna　did　not　heed　him。
“Let　go；　I　tell　you。　I　will　take　it　all　upon　myself。　I　will　go　and　ask　him。　I　…　you　let　it　alone。”
“But；　prince；”　said　Anna　Mihalovna；　“after　this　solemn　sacrament；　let　him　have　a　moment’s　peace。　Here；　Pierre；　tell　me　your　opinion；”　she　turned　to　the　young　man；　who　going　up　to　them　was　staring　in　surprise　at　the　exasperated　face　of　the　princess；　which　had　thrown　off　all　appearance　of　decorum；　and　the　twitching　cheeks　of　Prince　Vassily。
“Remember　that　you　will　have　to　answer　for　all　the　consequences；”　said　Prince　Vassily　sternly；　“you　don’t　know　what　you　are　doing。”
“Infamous　woman；”　shrieked　the　princess；　suddenly　pouncing　on　Anna　Mihalovna　and　tearing　the　portfolio　from　her。　Prince　Vassily　bowed　his　head　and　flung　up　his　hands。
At　that　instant　the　door；　the　dreadful　door　at　which　Pierre　had　gazed　so　long；　and　which　had　opened　so　softly；　was　flung　rapidly；　noisily　open；　banging　against　the　wall；　and　the　second　princess　ran　out　wringing　her　hands。
“What　are　you　about？”　she　said；　in　despair。　“He　is　passing　away；　and　you　leave　me　alone。”
The　eldest　princess　dropped　the　portfolio。　Swiftly　Anna　Mihalovna　stooped　and；　snatching　up　the　object　of　dispute；　ran　into　the　bedroom。　The　eldest　princess　and　Prince　Vassily　recovering　themselves　followed　her。　A　few　minutes　later　the　eldest　princess　came　out　again　with　a　pale；　dry　face；　biting　her　underlip。　At　the　sight　of　Pierre　her　face　expressed　irrepressible　hatred。
“Yes；　now　you　can　give　yourself　airs；”　she　said；　“you　have　got　what　you　wanted。”　And　breaking　into　sobs；　she　hid　her　face　in　her　handkerchief　and　ran　out　of　the　room。
The　next　to　emerge　was　Prince　Vassily。　He　staggered　to　the　sofa；　on　which　Pierre　was　sitting；　and　sank　on　to　it；　covering　his　eyes　with　his　hand。　Pierre　noticed　that　he　was　pale；　and　that　his　lower　jaw　was　quivering　and　working　as　though　in　ague。
“Ah；　my　dear　boy；”　he　said；　taking　Pierre　by　the　elbow—and　there　was　a　sincerity　and　a　weakness　in　his　voice　that　Pierre　had　never　observed　in　him　before—“what　sins；　what　frauds　we　commit；　and　all　for　what？　I’m　over　fifty；　my　dear　boy。　…　I　too。　…　It　all　ends　in　death；　all。　Death　is　awful。”　He　burst　into　tears。
Anna　Mihalovna　was　the　last　to　come　out。　She　approached　Pierre　with　soft；　deliberate　steps。　“Pierre；”　she　said。　Pierre　looked　inquiringly　at　her。　She　kissed　the　young　man　on　the　forehead；　wetting　him　with　her　tears。　She　did　not　speak　for　a　while。
“He　is　no　more。　…”
Pierre　gazed　at　her　over　his　spectacles。
“Come。　I　will　take　you　back。　Try　to　cry。　Nothing　relieves　like　tears。”
She　led　him　into　the　dark　drawing…room；　and　Pierre　was　glad　that　no　one　could　see　his　face。　Anna　Mihalovna　left　him；　and　when　she　came　back　he　was　fast　asleep　with　his　arm　under　his　head。
The　next　morning　Anna　Mihalovna　said　to　Pierre：　“Yes；　my　dear　boy；　it　is　a　great　loss　for　us　all。　I　do　not　speak　of　you。　But　God　will　uphold　you；　you　are　young；　and　now　you　are　at　the　head　of　an　immense　fortune；　I　hope。　The　will　has　not　been　opened　yet。　I　know　you　well　enough　to　know　that　this　will　not　turn　your　head；　but　it　will　impose　duties　upon　you　and　you　must　be　a　man。”
Pierre　did　not　speak。
“Perhaps；　later；　I　may　tell　you；　my　dear　boy；　that　if　I　had　not　been　there　God　knows　what　would　have　happened。　You　know；　my　uncle　promised　me；　only　the　day　before　yesterday；　not　to　forget　Boris。　But　he　had　no　time。　I　hope；　dear　friend；　that　you　will　fulfil　your　father’s　desire。”
Pierre　did　not　understand　a　word；　and　colouring　shyly；　looked　dumbly　at　Anna　Mihalovna。　After　talking　to　him；　Anna　Mihalovna　drove　to　the　Rostovs’；　and　went　to　bed。　On　waking　in　the　morning；　she　told　the　Rostovs　and　all　her　acquaintances　the　details　of　Count　Bezuhov’s　death。　She　said　that　the　count　had　died；　as　she　would　wish　to　die　herself；　that　his　end　had　been　not　simply　touching；　but　edifying；　that　the　last　interview　of　the　father　and　son　had　been　so　touching　that　she　could　not　recall　it　without　tears；　and　that　she　did　not　know　which　had　behaved　more　nobly　in　those　terrible　moments：　the　father；　who　had　remembered　everything　and　every　one　so　well　at　the　last；　and　had　said　such　moving　words　to　his　son；　or　Pierre；　whom　it　was　heartbreaking　to　see；　so　utterly　crushed　was　he；　though　he　yet　tried　to　conceal　his　grief；　so　as　not　to　distress　his　dying　father。　“It　is　painful；　but　it　does　one　good；　it　uplifts　the　soul　to　see　such　men　as　the　old　count　and　his　worthy　son；”　she　said。　She　told　them　about　the　action　of　the　princess　and　Prince　Vassily　too；　but　in　great　secrecy；　in　whispers；　and　with　disapproval。


Chapter　22
AT　BLEAK　HILLS；　the　estate　of　Prince　Nikolay　Andreivitch　Bolkonsky；　the　arrival　of　young　Prince　Andrey　and　his　wife　was　daily　expected。　But　this　expectation　did　not　disturb　the　regular　routine　in　which　life　moved　in　the　old　prince’s　household。　Prince　Nikolay　Andreivitch；　once　a　commander…in…chief；　known　in　the　fashionable　world　by　the　nickname　of　“the　Prussian　king；”　had　been　exiled　to　his　estate　in　the　reign　of　Paul；　and　had　remained　at　Bleak　Hills　ever　since　with　his　daughter；　Princess　Marya；　and　her　companion；　Mademoiselle　Bourienne。　Even　in　the　new　reign；　though　he　had　received　permission　to　return　to　the　capital；　he　had　never　left　his　home　in　the　country；　saying　that　if　any　one　wanted　to　see　him；　he　could　travel　the　hundred　and　fifty　versts　from　Moscow　to　Bleak　Hills；　and；　for　his　part；　he　wanted　nobody　and　nothing。　He　used　to　maintain　that　human　vices　all　sprang　from　only　two　sources—idleness　and　superstition；　and　that　there　were　but　two　virtues—energy　and　intelligence。　He　had　himself　undertaken　the　education　of　his　daughter；　and　to　develop　in　her　these　important　qualities；　he　continued　giving　her　lessons　in　algebra　and　geometry　up　to　her　twentieth　year；　and　mapped　out　her　whole　life　in　uninterrupted　occupation。　He　was　himself　always　occupied　in　writing　his　memoirs；　working　out　problems　in　higher　mathematics；　turning　snuff…boxes　on　his　lathe；　working　in　his　garden；　or　looking　after　the　erection　of　farm　buildings　which　were　always　being　built　on　his　estate。　Since　the　great　thing　for　enabling　one　to　get　through　work　is　regularity；　he　had　carried　regularity　in　his　manner　of　life　to　the　highest　point　of　exactitude。　His　meals　were　served　in　a　fixed　and　invariable　manner；　and　not　only　at　a　certain　hour；　but　at　a　certain　minute。　With　those　about　him；　from　his　daughter　to　his　servants；　the　count　was　sharp　and　invariably　exacting；　and　so；　without　being　cruel；　he　inspired　a　degree　of　respect　and　awe　that　the　most　cruel　man　could　not　readily　have　commanded。　In　spite　of　the　fact　that　he　was　now　on　the　retired　list；　and　had　no　influence　whatever　in　political　circles；　every　high　official　in　the　province　in　which　was　the　prince’s　estate　felt　obliged　to　call　upon　him；　and　had；　just　like　the　architect；　the　gardener；　or　Princess　Marya；　to　wait　till　the　regular　hour　at　which　the　prince　always　made　his　appearance　in　the　lofty　waiting…room。　And　every　one　in　the　waiting…room　felt　the　same　veneration；　and　even　awe；　when　the　immensely　high　door　of　the　study　opened　and　showed　the　small　figure　of　the　old　man　in　a　powdered　wig；　with　his　little　withered　hands　and　grey；　overhanging　eyebrows；　that；　at　times　when　he　scowled；　hid　the　gleam　in　his　shrewd；　youthful…looking　eyes。
On　the　day　that　the　young　people　were　expected　to　arrive；　Princess　Marya　went　as　usual　at　the　fixed　hour　in　the　morning　into　the　waiting…room　to　say　good…morning　to　her　father；　and　with　dread　in　her　heart　crossed　herself　and　mentally　repeated　a　prayer。　Every　day　she　went　in　to　her　father　in　the　same　way；　and　every　day　she　prayed　that　her　interview　with　her　father　might　pass　off　well　that　day。　The　old　man…servant；　wearing　powder；　softly　got　up　from　his　seat　in　the　waiting…room　and　whispered：　“Walk　in。”
Through　the　door　came　the　regular　sounds　of　the　lathe。　The　princess　kept　timidly　hold　of　the　door；　which　opened　smoothly　and　easily；　and　stood　still　in　the　doorway。　The　prince　was　working　at　his　lathe；　and　glancing　round；　he　went　on　with　what　he　was　doing。
The　immense　room　was　filled　with　things　obviously　in　constant　use。　The　large　table；　on　which　lay　books　and　plans；　the　high　bookcases　with　keys　in　the　glass…covered　doors；　the　high　table　for　the　prince　to　write　at；　standing　up；　with　an　open　manuscript…book　upon　it；　the　carpenter’s　lathe；　with　tools　ranged　about　it　and　shavings　scattered　around；　all　suggested　continual；　varied；　and　orderly　activity。　The　movements　of　the　prince’s　small　foot　in　its　Tatar；　silver…embroidered　boot；　the　firm　pressure　of　his　sinewy；　lean　hand；　showed　the　strength　of　vigorous　old　age　still　strong…willed　and　wiry。　After　making　a　few　more　turns；　he　took　his　foot　from　the　pedal　of　the　lathe；　wiped　the　plane；　dropped　it　into　a　leather　pouch　attached　to　the　lathe；　and　going　up　to　the　table　called　his　daughter。　He　never　gave　the　usual　blessing　to　his　children；　he　simply　offered　her　his　scrubby；　not　y