战争与和平(上)-第226章

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ked　straight　before　her　with　the　same　fixed　stare。　When　her　toilet　for　the　night　was　over；　Natasha　sank　softly　down　on　to　the　sheet　laid　on　the　hay　nearest　the　door。
“Natasha；　you　lie　in　the　middle；”　said　Sonya。
“I’ll　stay　here；”　said　Natasha。　“And　do　go　to　bed；”　she　added　in　a　tone　of　annoyance。　And　she　buried　her　face　in　the　pillow。
The　countess；　Madame　Schoss；　and　Sonya　hurriedly　undressed　and　went　to　bed。　The　lamp　before　the　holy　images　was　the　only　light　left　in　the　room。　But　out　of　doors　the　fire　at　Little　Mytishtchy　lighted　the　country　up　for　two　versts　round；　and　there　was　a　noisy　clamour　of　peasants　shouting　at　the　tavern　across　the　street；　which　Mamonov’s　Cossacks　had　broken　into；　and　the　moan　of　the　adjutant　could　be　heard　unceasingly　through　everything。
For　a　long　while　Natasha　listened　to　the　sounds　that　reached　her　from　within　and　without；　and　she　did　not　stir。　She　heard　at　first　her　mother’s　prayers　and　sighs；　the　creaking　of　her　bed　under　her；　Madame　Schoss’s　familiar；　whistling　snore；　Sonya’s　soft　breathing。　Then　the　countess　called　to　Natasha。　Natasha　did　not　answer。
“I　think　she’s　asleep；　mamma；”　answered　Sonya。
The　countess；　after　a　brief　silence；　spoke　again；　but　this　time　no　one　answered　her。
Soon　after　this　Natasha　caught　the　sound　of　her　mother’s　even　breathing。　Natasha　did　not　stir；　though　her　little　bare　foot；　poking　out　below　the　quilt；　felt　frozen　against　the　uncovered　floor。
A　cricket　chirped　in　a　crack；　as　though　celebrating　a　victory　over　all　the　world。　A　cock　crowed　far　away；　and　another　answered　close　by。　The　shouts　had　died　away　in　the　tavern；　but　the　adjutant’s　moaning　went　on　still　the　same。　Natasha　sat　up。
“Sonya！　Are　you　asleep？　Mamma！”　she　whispered。　No　one　answered。　Slowly　and　cautiously；　Natasha　got　up；　crossed　herself；　and　stepped　cautiously　with　her　slender；　supple；　bare　feet　on　to　the　dirty；　cold　floor。　The　boards　creaked。　With　nimble　feet　she　ran　like　a　kitten　a　few　steps；　and　took　hold　of　the　cold　door…handle。
It　seemed　to　her　that　something　with　heavy；　rhythmical　strokes　was　banging　on　all　the　walls　of　the　hut；　it　was　the　beating　of　her　own　heart；　torn　with　dread；　with　love　and　terror。
She　opened　the　door；　stepped　over　the　lintel；　and　on　to　the　damp；　cold　earth　of　the　passage　outside。　The　cold　all　about　her　refreshed　her。　Her　bare　foot　felt　a　man　asleep；　she　stepped　over　him；　and　opened　the　door　of　the　hut　in　which　Prince　Andrey　was　lying。
In　that　hut　it　was　dark。　A　tallow　candle　with　a　great；　smouldering　wick　stood　on　a　bench　in　the　further　corner；　by　a　bed；　on　which　something　was　lying。
Ever　since　she　had　been　told　in　the　morning　of　Prince　Andrey’s　wound　and　his　presence　there；　Natasha　had　resolved　that　she　must　see　him。　She　could　not　have　said　why　this　must　be；　but　she　knew　their　meeting　would　be　anguish　to　her；　and　that　made　her　the　more　certain　that　it　must　be　inevitable。
All　day　long　she　had　lived　in　the　hope　that　at　night　she　would　see　him。　But　now　when　the　moment　had　come；　a　terror　came　over　her　of　what　she　would　see。　How　had　he　been　disfigured？　What　was　left　of　him？　Was　he　like　that　unceasing　moan　of　the　adjutant？　Yes；　he　was　all　over　like　that。　In　her　imagination　he　was　that　awful　moan　of　pain　personified。　When　she　caught　sight　of　an　undefined　mass　in　the　corner；　and　took　his　raised　knees　under　the　quilt　for　his　shoulders；　she　pictured　some　fearful　body　there；　and　stood　still　in　terror。　But　an　irresistible　force　drew　her　forward。　She　made　one　cautious　step；　another；　and　found　herself　in　the　middle　of　the　small　hut；　cumbered　up　with　baggage。　On　the　bench；　under　the　holy　images；　lay　another　man　（this　was　Timohin）；　and　on　the　floor　were　two　more　figures　（the　doctor　and　the　valet）。
The　valet　sat　up　and　muttered　something。　Timohin；　in　pain　from　a　wound　in　his　leg；　was　not　asleep；　and　gazed；　all　eyes；　at　the　strange　apparition　of　a　girl　in　a　white　night…gown；　dressing…jacket；　and　nightcap。　The　valet’s　sleepy　and　frightened　words　“What　is　it？　What　do　you　want？”　only　made　Natasha　hasten　towards　the　figure　lying　in　the　corner。　However　fearfully　unlike　a　human　shape　that　figure　might　be　now；　she　must　see　him。　She　passed　by　the　valet；　the　smouldering　candle　flickered　up；　and　she　saw　clearly　Prince　Andrey；　lying　with　his　arms　stretched　out　on　the　quilt；　looking　just　as　she　had　always　seen　him。
He　was　just　the　same　as　ever；　but　the　flush　on　his　face；　his　shining　eyes；　gazing　passionately　at　her；　and　especially　the　soft；　childlike　neck；　showing　above　the　lay…down　collar　of　the　nightshirt；　gave　him　a　peculiarly　innocent；　childlike　look；　such　as　she　had　never　seen　in　him　before。　She　ran　up　to　him　and　with　a　swift；　supple；　youthful　movement　dropped　on　her　knees。
He　smiled；　and　held　out　his　hand　to　her。


Chapter　32
SEVEN　DAYS　had　passed　since　Prince　Andrey　had　found　himself　in　the　ambulance　station　on　the　field　of　Borodino。　All　that　time　he　had　been　in　a　state　of　almost　continual　unconsciousness。　The　fever　and　inflammation　of　the　bowels；　which　had　been　injured；　were；　in　the　opinion　of　the　doctor　accompanying　the　wounded；　certain　to　carry　him　off。　But　on　the　seventh　day　he　ate　with　relish　a　piece　of　bread　with　some　tea；　and　the　doctor　observed　that　the　fever　was　going　down。　Prince　Andrey　had　regained　consciousness　in　the　morning。　The　first　night　after　leaving　Moscow　had　been　fairly　warm；　and　Prince　Andrey　had　spent　the　night　in　his　carriage。　But　at　Mytishtchy　the　wounded　man　had　himself　asked　to　be　moved　and　given　tea。　The　pain　caused　by　moving　him　into　the　hut　had　made　Prince　Andrey　groan　aloud　and　lose　consciousness　again。　When　he　had　been　laid　on　his　camp　bedstead；　he　lay　a　long　while　with　closed　eyes　without　moving。　Then　he　opened　his　eyes　and　whispered　softly；　“How　about　the　tea？”　The　doctor　was　struck　by　this　instance　of　consciousness　of　the　little　details　of　daily　life。　He　felt　his　pulse；　and　to　his　surprise　and　dissatisfaction　found　that　the　pulse　was　stronger。　The　doctor’s　dissatisfaction　was　due　to　the　fact　that　he　felt　certain　from　his　experience　that　Prince　Andrey　could　not　live；　and　that　if　he　did　not　die　now；　he　would　only　die　a　little　later　with　even　greater　suffering。　With　Prince　Andrey　was　the　red…nosed　major　of　his　regiment；　Timohin；　who　had　joined　him　in　Moscow　with　a　wound　in　his　leg　received　at　the　same　battle　of　Borodino。　The　doctor；　the　prince’s　valet；　and　coachman；　and　two　orderlies　were　in　charge　of　them。
Tea　was　given　to　Prince　Andrey。　He　drank　it　eagerly；　looking　with　feverish　eyes　at　the　door　in　front　of　him；　as　though　trying　to　understand　and　recall　something。
“No　more。　Is　Timohin　here？”　he　asked。
Timohin　edged　along　the　bench　towards　him。
“I　am　here；　your　excellency。”
“How　is　your　wound？”
“Mine？　All　right。　But　how　are　you？”
Prince　Andrey　pondered　again；　as　though　he　were　recollecting　something。
“Could　not　one　get　a　book　here？”　he　said。
“What　book？”
“The　Gospel！　I　haven’t　one。”
The　doctor　promised　to　get　it；　and　began　questioning　the　prince　about　his　symptoms。　Prince　Andrey　answered　all　the　doctor’s　questions　rationally；　though　reluctantly；　and　then　said　that　he　wanted　a　support　put　under　him；　as　it　was　uncomfortable　and　very　painful　for　him　as　he　was。　The　doctor　and　the　valet　took　off　the　military　cloak；　with　which　he　was　covered；　and　puckering　up　their　faces　at　the　sickly　smell　of　putrefying　flesh　that　came　from　the　wound；　began　to　look　into　the　terrible　place。　The　doctor　was　very　much　troubled　about　something；　he　made　some　changes；　turning　the　wounded　man　over　so　that　he　groaned　again；　and　again　lost　consciousness　from　the　pain　when　they　turned　him　over。　He　began　to　be　delirious；　and　kept　asking　for　the　book　to　be　brought　and　to　be　put　under　him。　“What　trouble　would　it　be　to　you？”　he　kept　saying。　“I　haven’t　it；　get　it　me；　please；—put　it　under　me　just　for　a　minute；”　he　said　in　a　piteous　voice。
The　doctor　went　outside　to　wash　his　hands。
“Ah；　you　have　no　conscience；　you　fellows　really；”　the　doctor　was　saying　to　the　valet；　who　was　pouring　water　over　his　hands。　“For　one　minute　I　didn’t　look　after　you。　Why；　it’s　such　suffering　that　I　wonder　how　he　bears　it。”
“I　thought　we　did　put　it　under　him　right；　by　the　Lord　Jesus　Christ；”　said　the　valet。
Prince　Andrey　had　for　the　first　time　grasped　where　he　was　and　what　was　happening　to　him；　and　had　recollected　that　he　had　been　wounded　and　how　at　the　moment　when　the　carriage　had　stopped　at　Mytishtchy；　and　he　had　asked　to　be　taken　into　the　hut。　Losing　consciousness　again　from　the　pain；　he　came　fully　to　himself　once　more　in　the　hut　while　he　was　drinking　tea。　And　thereupon　again；　going　over　in　his　memory　all　that　had　happened　to　him；　the　most　vivid　picture　in　his　mind　was　of　that　moment　at　the　ambulance　station　when　at　the　sight　of　the　sufferings　of　a　man　he　had　not　liked；　those　new　thoughts　had　come　to　him　with　such　promise　of　happiness。　And　those　thoughts—though　vague　now　and　shapeless—took　possession　of　his　soul　again。　He　remembered　that　he　had　now　some　new　happiness；　and　that　that　happiness　had　something　to　do　with　the　Gospel。　That　was　why　he　asked　for　the　Gospel。　But　the　position　he　had　been　laid　in；　without　support　under　his　wound；　and　the　new　change　of　position；　put　his　thoughts　to　confusion　again；　and　it　was　only　in　the　complete　stillness　of　the　night　that　he　came　to　himself　again　for　the　third　time。　Every　one　was　asleep　around　him。　A　cricket　was　chirping　across　the　passage；　some　one　was　shouting　and　singing　in　the　street；　cockroaches　were　rustling　over　the　table；　the　holy　images　and　the　walls；　a　big　fly　flopped　on　his　pillow　and　about　the　tallow　candle　that　stood　with　a　great；　smouldering　wick　beside　him。
His　soul　was　not　in　its　normal　state。　A　man　in　health　usually　thinks；　feels　and　remembers　simultaneously　an　immense　number　of　different　things；　but　he　has　the　power　and　the　faculty　of　selecting　one　series　of　ideas　or　phenomena　and　concentrating　all　his　attention　on　that　series。　A　man　in　health　can　at　the　moment　of　the　profoundest　thought　break　off　to　say　a　civil　word　to　any　one　who　comes　in；　and　then　return　again　to　his　thoughts。　Prince　Andrey’s　soul　was　not　in　a　normal　condition　in　this　respect。　All　the　faculties　of　his　soul　were　clearer　and　more　active　than　ever；　but　they　acted　apart　from　his　will。　The　most　diverse　ideas　and　images　had　possession　of　his　mind　at　the　same　time。　Sometimes　his　brain　suddenly　began　to　work；　and　with　a　force；　clearness；　and　depth　with　which　it　had　never　been　capable　of　working　in　health。　But　suddenly　the　train　of　thought　broke　off　in　the　midst；　to　be　replaced　by　some　unexpected　image；　and　the　power　to　go　back　to　it　was　wanting。　“Yes；　a　new　happiness　was　revealed　to　me；　that　could　not　be　taken　away　from　man；”　he　thought；　as　he　lay　in　the　still；　half…dark　hut；　gazing　before　him　with　feverishly　wide；　staring　eyes。　“Happiness　beyond　the　reach　of　material　forces；　outside　material；　external　influences　on　man；　the　happiness　of　the　soul　alone；　the　happiness　of　love！　To　feel　it　is　in　every　man’s　power；　but　God　alone　can　know　it　and　ordain　it。　But　how　did　God　ordain　this　law？　Why　the　Son？　…”　And　all　at　once　that　train　of　thought　broke　off；　and　Prince　Andrey　heard　（not　knowing　whether　in　delirium　or　in　actual　fact　he　heard　it）　a　kind　of　soft；　whispering　voice；　incessantly　beating　time：　“Piti…pitt…piti；”　and　then　“i…t