战争与和平(上)-第90章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


Near　the　altar　of　the　church　at　Bleak　Hills　was　a　little　chapel　over　the　tomb　of　the　little　princess；　and　in　the　chapel　had　been　placed　a　marble　monument　brought　from　Italy；　representing　an　angel　with　its　wings　parted　about　to　take　flight　for　heaven。　The　angel　had　the　upper　lip　lifted　as　though　about　to　smile；　and　one　day　Prince　Andrey　and　Princess　Marya；　as　they　came　out　of　the　chapel；　confessed　to　one　another　that；　strange　to　say；　the　face　of　the　angel　reminded　them　of　the　face　of　the　little　princess。　But　what　was　stranger；　though　this　Prince　Andrey　did　not　confess　to　his　sister；　was　that　in　the　expression　the　sculptor　had　chanced　to　put　into　the　angel’s　face；　Prince　Andrey　read　the　same　words　of　reproach　which　he　had　read　then　on　the　face　of　his　dead　wife：　“Ah；　why　have　you　done　this　to　me？　…”
Soon　after　Prince　Andrey’s　return；　the　old　prince　made　over　a　part　of　the　property　to　him；　giving　him　Bogutcharovo；　a　large　estate　about　thirty　miles　from　Bleak　Hills。　Partly　to　escape　the　painful　memories　associated　with　Bleak　Hills；　partly　because　Prince　Andrey　did　not　always　feel　equal　to　bearing　with　his　father’s　peculiarities；　and　partly　from　a　craving　for　solitude；　Prince　Andrey　made　use　of　Bogutcharovo；　established　himself　there　and　spent　the　greater　part　of　his　time　there。
After　the　Austerlitz　campaign；　Prince　Andrey　had　grimly　resolved　never　to　serve　again　in　the　army。　And　when　war　broke　out　and　all　were　bound　to　serve；　he　took　service　under　his　father　in　the　levying　of　the　militia；　so　as　to　escape　active　service。　Since　the　campaign　of　1805　the　old　prince　and　his　son　had　as　it　were　exchanged　parts。　The　old　prince；　stimulated　by　activity；　expected　the　best　results　from　the　present　campaign。　Prince　Andrey；　on　the　contrary；　taking　no　part　in　the　war；　and　secretly　regretting　his　inaction；　saw　in　it　nothing　but　what　was　bad。
On　the　26th　of　February；　1807　the　old　prince　set　off　on　a　tour　of　inspection。　Prince　Andrey　was　staying　at　Bleak　Hills；　as　he　usually　did　in　his　father’s　absence。　Little　Nikolushka　had　been　ill　for　the　last　three　days。　The　coachman；　who　had　driven　the　old　prince　away；　returned　bringing　papers　and　letters　from　the　town　for　Prince　Andrey。　The　valet　with　the　letters　not　finding　the　young　prince　in　his　study；　went　to　Princess　Marya’s　apartments；　but　he　was　not　there　either。　The　valet　was　told　that　the　prince　had　gone　to　the　nursery。　“If　you　please；　your　excellency；　Petrusha　has　come　with　some　papers；”　said　one　of　the　nursery　maids；　addressing　Prince　Andrey；　who　was　sitting　on　a　child’s　little　chair。　Screwing　up　his　eyes；　he　was　with　trembling　hands　pouring　drops　from　a　medicine　bottle　into　a　glass　half　full　of　water。
“What　is　it？”　he　said　angrily；　and　his　hand　shaking；　he　accidentally　poured　too　many　drops　from　the　bottle　into　the　glass。　He　tipped　the　medicine　out　of　the　glass　on　to　the　floor　and　asked　for　some　more　water。　The　maid　gave　it　him。
In　the　room　were　a　couple　of　armchairs；　a　child’s　crib；　a　table　and　a　child’s　table　and　a　little　chair；　on　which　Prince　Andrey　was　sitting。　The　windows　were　curtained；　and　on　the　table　a　single　candle　was　burning；　screened　by　a　note…book；　so　that　the　light　did　not　fall　on　the　crib。
“My　dear；”　said　Princess　Marya；　turning　to　her　brother　from　beside　the　crib　where　she　was　standing；　“it　would　be　better　to　wait　a　little…later。”
“Oh；　please；　do　as　I　say；　what　nonsense　you　keep　talking；　you　have　kept　putting　things　off；　and　see　what’s　come　of　it！”　said　Prince　Andrey　in　an　exasperated　whisper；　evidently　meaning　to　wound　his　sister。
“My　dear；　it’s　really　better　not　to　wake　him；　he　has　fallen　asleep；”　said　the　princess　in　a　voice　of　entreaty。
Prince　Andrey　got　up　and　went　on　tiptoe　to　the　crib　with　the　glass　in　his　hand。
“Should　we　really　not　wake　him？”　he　said；　hesitating。
“As　you　think—really…I　believe　so…but　as　you　think；”　said　Princess　Marya；　obviously　intimidated　and　ashamed　that　her　opinion　should　triumph。　She　drew　her　brother’s　attention　to　the　maid；　who　was　summoning　him　in　a　whisper。
It　was　the　second　night　that　they　had　been　without　sleep　looking　after　the　baby；　who　was　feverish。　Mistrusting　their　own　household　doctor　and　expecting　the　doctor　they　had　sent　from　the　town；　they　had　spent　all　that　time　trying　first　one　remedy　and　then　another。　Agitated　and　worn　out　by　sleeplessness；　they　vented　their　anxiety　on　each　other；　found　fault　with　each　other；　and　quarrelled。
“Petrusha　with　papers　from　your　papa；”　whispered　the　maid。　Prince　Andrey　went　out。
“Damn　them　all！”　he　commented　angrily；　and　after　listening　to　the　verbal　instructions　sent　him　from　his　father；　and　taking　the　correspondence　and　his　father’s　letter；　he　went　back　to　the　nursery。　“Well？”　queried　Prince　Andrey。
“No　change；　wait　a　little；　for　God’s　sake。　Karl　Ivanitch　always　says　sleep　is　better　than　anything；”　Princess　Marya　whispered　with　a　sigh。　Prince　Andrey　went　up　to　the　baby　and　felt　him。　He　was　burning　hot。　“Bother　you　and　your　Karl　Ivanitch！”　He　took　the　glass　with　the　drops　of　medicine　in　it　and　again　went　up　to　the　crib。
“Andryusha；　you　shouldn’t！”　said　Princess　Marya。　But　he　scowled　at　her　with　an　expression　of　anger　and　at　the　same　time　of　anguish；　and　bent　over　the　child　with　the　glass。
“But　I　wish　it；”　he　said。　“Come；　I　beg　you；　give　it　him…”
Princess　Marya　shrugged　her　shoulders　but　obediently　she　took　the　glass；　and　calling　the　nurse；　began　giving　the　child　the　medicine。　The　baby　screamed　and　wheezed。　Prince　Andrey；　scowling　and　clutching　at　his　head；　went　out　of　the　room　and　sat　down　on　the　sofa　in　the　adjoining　one。
The　letters　were　still　in　his　hand。　Mechanically　he　opened　them　and　began　to　read。　The　old　prince　in　his　big；　sprawling　hand；　making　use　of　occasional　abbreviations；　wrote　on　blue　paper　as　follows：
“I　have　this　moment　received；　through　a　special　messenger；　very　joyful　news；　if　it’s　not　a　falsehood。　Bennigsen　has　gained　it　seems　a　complete　victory　over　Bonaparte　near　Eylau。　In　Petersburg　every　one’s　jubilant　and　rewards　have　been　sent　to　the　army　without　stint。　Though　he’s　a　German—I　congratulate　him。　Commander　in　Kortchevo；　a　certain　Handrikov；　I　can’t　make　out　what　he’s　about；　full　contingent　of　men　and　regulation　provision　not　yet　arrived。　Gallop　over　at　once　and　say　I’ll　have　his　head　off　if　it’s　not　all　here　within　the　week。　I　have　a　letter　too　about　the　Prussian　battle　at　Preussisch…Eylau　from　Petenka；　he　took　part　in　it；—it’s　true。　If　people　don’t　meddle　who’ve　no　business　to　meddle；　even　a　German　beats　Bonaparte。　They　say　he’s　running　away　in　great　disorder。　Mind　you　gallop　over　to　Kortchevo　and　do　the　business　without　delay！”
Prince　Andrey　sighed　and　broke　open　the　other　letter。　It　was　a　letter　from　Bilibin；　two　sheets　covered　with　fine　handwriting。　He　folded　it　up　without　reading　it；　and　read　through　once　more　his　father’s　letter；　ending　with　the　words：　“Mind　you　gallop　over　to　Kortchevo　and　do　the　business　without　delay！”
“No；　excuse　me；　I’m　not　going　now　till　the　child　is　better；”　he　thought；　and　going　to　the　door　he　glanced　into　the　nursery。　Princess　Marya　was　still　standing　at　the　crib；　softly　rocking　the　baby。　“Oh；　and　what　was　the　other　unpleasant　thing　he　writes　about？”　Prince　Andrey　thought　of　the　contents　of　his　father’s　letter。　“Yes。　Our　troops　have　gained　a　victory　over　Bonaparte　precisely　when　I’m　not　in　the　army。　Yes；　yes；　everything　mocks　at　me…well　and　welcome　too…”　and　he　began　reading　the　letter　in　French　from　Bilibin。　He　read；　not　understanding　half　of　it；　read　simply　to　escape　for　one　moment　from　thinking　of　what　he　had　too　long；　too　exclusively　and　too　anxiously　been　dwelling　upon。


Chapter　9
BILIBIN　was　now　in　a　diplomatic　capacity　at　the　headquarters　of　the　army；　and　though　he　wrote　in　French；　with　French　jests；　and　French　turns　of　speech；　he　described　the　whole　campaign　with　an　impartial　self…criticism　and　self…mockery　exclusively　Russian。　Bilibin　wrote　that　the　obligation　of　diplomatic　discretion　was　a　torture　to　him；　and　that　he　was　happy　to　have　in　Prince　Andrey　a　trustworthy　correspondent　to　whom　he　could　pour　out　all　the　spleen　that　had　been　accumulating　in　him　at　the　sight　of　what　was　going　on　in　the　army。　The　letter　was　dated　some　time　back；　before　the　battle　of　Eylau。
“Since　our　great　success　at　Austerlitz；　you　know；　my　dear　prince；”　wrote　Bilibin；　“that　I　have　not　left　headquarters。　Decidedly　I　have　acquired　a　taste　for　warfare；　and　it　is　just　as　well　for　me。　What　I　have　seen　in　these　three　months　is　incredible。
“I　will　begin　ab　ovo。　‘The　enemy　of　the　human　race；’　as　you　know；　is　attacking　the　Prussians。　The　Prussians　are　our　faithful　allies；　who　have　only　deceived　us　three　times　in　three　years。　We　stand　up　for　them。　But　it　occurs　that　the　enemy　of　the　human　race　pays　no　attention　to　our　fine　speeches；　and　in　his　uncivil　and　savage　way　flings　himself　upon　the　Prussians　without　giving　them　time　to　finish　the　parade　that　they　had　begun；　and　by　a　couple　of　conjuring　tricks　thrashes　them　completely；　and　goes　to　take　up　his　quarters　in　the　palace　of　Potsdam。
“　‘I　most　earnestly　desire；’　writes　the　King　of　Prussia　to　Bonaparte；　‘that　your　majesty　may　be　received　and　treated　in　my　palace　in　a　manner　agreeable　to　you；　and　I　have　hastened　to　take　all　the　measures　to　that　end　which　circumstances　allowed。　May　I　have　succeeded！’　The　Prussian　generals　pride　themselves　on　their　politeness　towards　the　French；　and　lay　down　their　arms　at　the　first　summons。
“The　head　of　the　garrison　at　Glogau；　who　has　ten　thousand　men；　asks　the　King　of　Prussia　what　he　is　to　do　if　he　is　summoned　to　surrender。…All　these　are　actual　facts。
“In　short；　hoping　only　to　produce　an　effect　by　our　military　attitude；　we　find　ourselves　at　war　in　good　earnest；　and；　what　is　more；　at　war　on　our　own　frontiers　with　and　for　the　King　of　Prussia。　Everything　is　fully　ready；　we　only　want　one　little　thing；　that　is　the　commander…in…chief。　As　it　is　thought　that　the　successes　at　Austerlitz　might　have　been　more　decisive　if　the　commander…in…chief　had　not　been　so　young；　the　men　of　eighty　have　been　passed　in　review；　and　of　Prosorovsky　and　Kamensky　the　latter　is　preferred。　The　general　comes　to　us　in　a　k？bik　after　the　fashion　of　Suvorov；　and　is　greeted　with　acclamations　of　joy　and　triumph。
“On　the　4th　comes　the　first　post　from　Petersburg。　The　mails　are　taken　to　the　marshal’s　room；　for　he　likes　to　do　everything　himself。　I　am　called　to　sort　the　letters　and　take　those　meant　for　us。　The　marshal　looks　on　while　we　do　it；　and　waits　for　the　packets　addressed　to　him。　We　seek—there　are　none。　The　marshal　gets　impatient；　sets　to　work　himself；　and　finds　letters　from　the　Emperor　for　Count　T。；　Prince　V。；　and　others。　Then　he　throws　himself　into　one　of　his　furies。　He　rages　against　everybody；　snatches　hold　of　the　letters；　opens　them；　and　reads　those　from　the　Emperor　to　other　people。
“　‘Ah；　so　that’s　how　I’m　being　treated！　No　confidence　in　me！　Oh；　ordered　to　keep　an　eye　on　me；　very　well；　get　along　with　you！’
“And　then　he　writes　the　famous　order　of　the　day　to　General　Bennigsen：
“　‘I　am　wounded；　I　cannot　ride　on　horseback；　consequently　cannot　command　the　army。　You　have　led　your　corps　d’armée　defeated　to　Pultusk！　Here　it　remains　exposed　and　destitute　of　wood　and　of　forage；　and　in　need　of　assistance；　and　so；　as　y