战争与和平(上)-第276章

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all　looked　at　Pierre　with　cheerful；　beaming　faces；　and　seemed　to　him　to　say：　“Oh；　here　he　is！　We　shall　see　what　comes　of　it。”
On　reaching　Princess　Marya’s　house；　Pierre　was　beset　by　a　sudden　doubt　whether　it　were　true　that　he　had　been　there　the　day　before；　and　had　really　seen　Natasha　and　talked　to　her。　“Perhaps　it　was　all　my　own　invention；　perhaps　I　shall　go　in　and　see　no　one。”　But　no　sooner　had　he　entered　the　room　than　in　his　whole　being；　from　his　instantaneous　loss　of　freedom；　he　was　aware　of　her　presence。　She　was　wearing　the　same　black　dress；　that　hung　in　soft　folds；　and　had　her　hair　arranged　in　the　same　way；　but　she　was　utterly　different。　Had　she　looked　like　this　when　he　came　in　yesterday；　he　could　not　have　failed　to　recognise　her。
She　was　just　as　he　had　known　her　almost　as　a　child；　and　later　when　betrothed　to　Prince　Andrey。　A　bright；　questioning　light　gleamed　in　her　eyes；　there　was　a　friendly　and　strangely　mischievous　expression　in　her　face。
Pierre　dined；　and　would　have　spent　the　whole　evening　with　them；　but　Princess　Marya　was　going　to　vespers；　and　Pierre　went　with　them。
Next　day　Pierre　arrived　early；　dined　with　them；　and　stayed　the　whole　evening。　Although　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　were　obviously　glad　to　see　their　visitor；　and　although　the　whole　interest　of　Pierre’s　life　was　now　centred　in　that　house；　by　the　evening　they　had　said　all　they　had　to　say；　and　the　conversation　passed　continually　from　one　trivial　subject　to　another　and　often　broke　off　altogether。　Pierre　stayed　so　late　that　evening　that　Princess　Marya　and　Natasha　exchanged　glances；　plainly　wondering　whether　he　would　not　soon　go。　Pierre　saw　that；　but　he　could　not　go　away。　He　began　to　feel　it　irksome　and　awkward；　but　still　he　sat　on　because　he　could　not　get　up　and　go。
Princess　Marya；　foreseeing　no　end　to　it；　was　the　first　to　get　up；　and　complaining　of　a　sick　headache；　she　began　saying　good…night。
“So　you　are　going　to…morrow　to　Petersburg？”　she　said。
“No；　I　am　not　going；”　said　Pierre　hurriedly；　with　surprise　and　a　sort　of　resentment　in　his　tone。　“No　…　yes；　to　Petersburg。　To…morrow；　perhaps；　but　I　won’t　say　good…bye。　I　shall　come　to　see　if　you　have　any　commissions　to　give　me；”　he　added；　standing　before　Princess　Marya；　turning　very　red；　and　not　taking　leave。
Natasha　gave　him　her　hand　and　retired。　Princess　Marya；　on　the　contrary；　instead　of　going　away；　sank　into　an　armchair；　and　with　her　luminous；　deep　eyes　looked　sternly　and　intently　at　Pierre。　The　weariness　she　had　unmistakably　betrayed　just　before　had　now　quite　passed　off。　She　drew　a　deep；　prolonged　sigh；　as　though　preparing　for　a　long　conversation。
As　soon　as　Natasha　had　gone；　all　Pierre’s　confusion　and　awkwardness　instantly　vanished；　and　were　replaced　by　excited　eagerness。
He　rapidly　moved　a　chair　close　up　to　Princess　Marya。　“Yes；　I　wanted　to　tell　you；”　he　said；　replying　to　her　look　as　though　to　words。　“Princess；　help　me。　What　am　I　to　do？　Can　I　hope？　Princess；　my　dear　friend；　listen　to　me。　I　know　all　about　it。　I　know　I　am　not　worthy　of　her；　I　know　that　it　is　impossible　to　talk　of　it　now。　But　I　want　to　be　a　brother　to　her。　No；　not　that；　I　don’t；　I　can’t　…”　He　paused　and　passed　his　hands　over　his　face　and　eyes。　“It’s　like　this；”　he　went　on；　making　an　evident　effort　to　speak　coherently。　“I　don’t　know　since　when　I　have　loved　her。　But　I　have　loved　her　alone；　only　her；　all　my　life；　and　I　love　her　so　that　I　cannot　imagine　life　without　her。　I　cannot　bring　myself　to　ask　for　her　hand　now；　but　the　thought　that；　perhaps；　she　might　be　my　wife　and　my　letting　slip　this　opportunity　…　opportunity　…　is　awful。　Tell　me；　can　I　hope？　Tell　me；　what　am　I　to　do？　Dear　princess；”　he　said；　after　a　brief　pause；　touching　her　hand　as　she　did　not　answer。
“I　am　thinking　of　what　you　have　just　told　me；”　answered　Princess　Marya。　“This　is　what　I　think。　You　are　right　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　…”　The　princess　paused。　She　had　meant　to　say　that　to　speak　to　her　of　love　now　was　impossible；　but　she　stopped；　because　she　had　seen　during　the　last　three　days　by　the　sudden　change　in　Natasha　that　she　would　by　no　means　be　offended　if　Pierre　were　to　avow　his　love；　that；　in　fact；　it　was　the　one　thing　she　desired。
“To　speak　to　her　now　…　is　out　of　the　question；”　she　nevertheless　said。
“But　what　am　I　to　do？”
“Trust　the　matter　to　me；”　said　Princess　Marya。　“I　know　…”
Pierre　looked　into　her　eyes。　“Well；　well　…”　he　said。
“I　know　that　she　loves　…　that　she　will　love　you；”　Princess　Marya　corrected　herself。
She　had　hardly　uttered　the　words；　when　Pierre　leaped　up；　and　with　a　face　of　consternation　clutched　at　Princess　Marya’s　hand。
“What　makes　you　think　so？　You　think　I　may　hope？　You　think　so？　…”
“Yes；　I　think　so；”　said　Princess　Marya；　smiling。　“Write　to　her　parents。　And　leave　it　to　me。　I　will　tell　her　when　it　is　possible。　I　desire　it　to　come　to　pass。　And　I　have　a　feeling　in　my　heart　that　it　will　be　so。”
“No；　it　cannot　be！　How　happy　I　am！　But　it　cannot　be！　…　How　happy　I　am！　No；　it　cannot　be！”　Pierre　kept　saying；　kissing　Princess　Marya’s　hands。
“You　should　go　to　Petersburg；　it　will　be　better。　And　I　will　write　to　you；”　she　said。
“To　Petersburg？　I　am　to　go？　Yes；　very　well；　I　will　go。　But　I　can　come　and　see　you　to…morrow？”
Next　day　Pierre　came　to　say　good…bye。　Natasha　was　less　animated　than　on　the　preceding　days；　but　sometimes　that　day；　looking　into　her　eyes；　Pierre　felt　that　he　was　vanishing　away；　that　he　and　she　were　no　more；　that　there　was　nothing　but　happiness。　“Is　it　possible？　No；　it　cannot　be；”　he　said　to　himself　at　every　glance　she　gave；　every　gesture；　every　word；　that　filled　his　soul　with　gladness。
When；　on　saying　good…bye；　he　took　her　thin；　delicate　hand　he　unconsciously　held　it　somewhat　longer　in　his　own。
“Is　it　possible　that　that　hand；　that　face；　those　eyes；　all　that　treasure　of　womanly　charm；　so　far　removed　from　me；　is　it　possible　it　may　all　one　day　be　my　own　for　ever；　as　close　and　intimate　as　I　am　to　myself？　No；　it’s　surely　impossible？　…”
“Good…bye；　count；”　she　said　to　him　aloud。　“I　shall　so　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again；”　she　added　in　a　whisper。
And　those　simple　words；　and　the　look　in　the　eyes　and　the　face；　that　accompanied　them；　formed　the　subject　of　inexhaustible　reminiscences；　interpretations；　and　happy　dreams　for　Pierre　during　two　whole　months。　“I　shall　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again。”　“Yes；　yes；　how　did　she　say　it？　Yes。　‘I　shall　so　look　forward　to　seeing　you　again。’　Oh；　how　happy　I　am！　How　can　it　be　that　I　am　so　happy！”　Pierre　said　to　himself。


Chapter　19
THERE　was　nothing　in　Pierre’s　soul　now　like　what　had　passed　within　him　in　similar　circumstances　during　the　time　of　his　being　betrothed　to　Ellen。
He　did　not　go　over；　as　he　had　then；　with　a　sickening　sense　of　shame　the　words　he　had　uttered；　he　did　not　say　to　himself：　“Oh；　why　did　I　not　say　that；　and　why；　oh　why；　did　I　say　then：　I　love　you。”　Now；　on　the　contrary；　every　word　of　hers　and　of　his　own；　he　went　over　in　his　imagination　with　every　detail　of　look　and　smile；　and　wanted　to　add　nothing；　to　take　nothing　away；　he　longed　only　to　hear　it　over　again。　As　for　doubts—　whether　what　he　contemplated　doing　was　right　or　wrong—there　was　never　a　trace　of　them　now。　Only　one　terrible　doubt　sometimes　assailed　his　mind。　Was　it　not　all　a　dream？　Was　not　Princess　Marya　mistaken？　Am　I　not　too　conceited　and　self…confident？　I　believe　in　it；　but　all　at　once—　and　it’s　what　is　sure　to　happen—Princess　Marya　tells　her；　and　she　smiles　and　answers：　“How　queer！　He　has　certainly　made　a　mistake。　Doesn’t　he　know　that　he　is　a　man；　a　mere　man；　while　I？　…　I　am　something　altogether　different；　higher。”
This　doubt　alone　often　beset　Pierre。　He　made　no　plans　of　any　sort　now。　The　happiness　before　him　seemed　to　him　so　incredible　that　the　only　thing　that　mattered　was　to　bring　it　to　pass；　and　nothing　could　be　beyond。　Everything　else　was　over。
A　joyful；　unexpected　frenzy；　of　which　Pierre　had　believed　himself　incapable；　seized　upon　him。　The　whole　meaning　of　life；　not　for　him　only；　but　for　all　the　world；　seemed　to　him　centred　in　his　love　and　the　possibility　of　her　loving　him。　Sometimes　all　men　seemed　to　him　to　be　absorbed　in　nothing　else　than　his　future　happiness。　It　seemed　to　him　sometimes　that　they　were　all　rejoicing　as　he　was　himself；　and　were　only　trying　to　conceal　that　joy；　by　pretending　to　be　occupied　with　other　interests。　In　every　word　and　gesture　he　saw　an　allusion　to　his　happiness。　He　often　surprised　people　by　his　significant　and　blissful　looks　and　smiles；　that　seemed　to　express　some　secret　understanding　with　them。　But　when　he　realised　that　people　could　not　know　of　his　happiness；　he　pitied　them　from　the　bottom　of　his　heart；　and　felt　an　impulse　to　try　to　make　them　somehow　understand　that　all　that　they　were　interested　in　was　utter　nonsense　and　trifles　not　deserving　of　attention。
When　suggestions　were　made　to　him　that　he　should　take　office　under　government；　or　when　criticisms　of　any　sort　on　general；　political　questions；　or　on　the　war；　were　made　before　him；　on　the　supposition　that　one　course　of　events　or　another　would　affect　the　happiness　of　all　men；　he　listened　with　a　gentle　smile　of　commiseration；　and　astounded　the　persons　conversing　with　him　by　his　strange　observations。　But　both　those　persons；　who　seemed　to　Pierre　to　grasp　the　true　significance　of　life；　that　is；　his　feeling；　and　those　luckless　wretches　who　obviously　had　no　notion　of　it—all　at　this　period　appeared　to　Pierre　in　the　radiant　light　of　his　own　glowing　feeling；　so　that　on　meeting　any　one；　he　saw　in　him　without　the　slightest　effort　everything　that　was　good　and　deserving　of　love。
As　he　looked　through　his　dead　wife’s　papers　and　belongings；　he　had　no　feeling　towards　her　memory　but　one　of　pity　that　she　had　not　known　the　happiness　he　knew　now。　Prince　Vassily；　who　was　particularly　haughty　just　then；　having　received　a　new　post　and　a　star；　struck　him　as　a　pathetic　and　kind…hearted　old　man；　very　much　to　be　pitied。
Often　afterwards　Pierre　recalled　that　time　of　happy　insanity。　All　the　judgments　he　formed　of　men　and　circumstances　during　that　period　remained　for　ever　true　to　him。　Far　from　renouncing　later　on　those　views　of　men　and　things；　on　the　contrary；　in　inner　doubts　and　contradictions；　he　flew　back　to　the　view　he　had　had　during　that　time　of　madness；　and　that　view　always　turned　out　to　be　a　true　one。
“Perhaps；”　he　thought；　“I　did　seem　strange　and　absurd　then；　but　I　was　not　so　mad　then　as　I　seemed。　On　the　contrary；　I　was　cleverer　and　had　more　insight　then　than　at　any　time；　and　I　understood　everything　worth　understanding　in　life；　because　…　I　was　happy。”
Pierre’s　madness　showed　itself　in　his　not　waiting；　as　in　old　days；　for　those　personal　grounds；　which　he　had　called　good　qualities　in　people；　in　order　to　love　them；　but　as　love　was　brimming　over　in　his　heart　he　loved　men　without　cause；　and　so　never　failed　to　discover　incontestable　reasons　that　made　them　worth　loving。


Chapter　20
FROM　THAT　FIRST　EVENING；　when　Natasha　had　said　to　Princess　Marya；　with　a　gaily　mocking　smile；　that　he　looked　exactly；　yes；　exactly；　as　if　he　had　come　out　of　a　bath　with　his　short　jacket　and　his　cropped　hair—from　that　minute　something　hidden　and　unrecognised　by　herself；　yet　irresistible；　awakened　in　Natasha’s　soul。
Everything—face；　gait；　eyes；　voice—everything　was　at　once　transformed　in　her。