War And Peace: Book 8 - CHAPTER XXI

作者: Leo Tolstoy

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Author: Leo Tolstoy

PIERRE drove to Marya Dmitryevna's to report to her the execution of her

commands, as to Kuragin's banishment from Moscow. The whole house was in

excitement and alarm. Natasha was very ill; and as Marya Dmitryevna told him in

secret, she had on the night after she had been told Anatole was married, taken

arsenic, which she had procured by stealth. After swallowing a little, she had

been so frightened that she waked Sonya, and told her what she had done.

Antidotes had been given in time, and now she was out of danger; but she was

still so weak, that they could not dream of moving her to the country, and the

countess had been sent for. Pierre saw the count in great trouble, and Sonya in

tears, but he could not see Natasha.

That day Pierre dined at the club, and heard on every side gossip about the

attempted abduction of the young Countess Rostov, and persistently denied the

story, assuring every one that the only foundation for it was that his

brother-in-law had made the young lady an offer and had been refused. It seemed

to Pierre that it was part of his duty to conceal the whole affair, and to save

the young countess's reputation.

He was looking forward with terror to Prince Andrey's return, and drove round

every day to ask for news of him from the old prince.

Prince Nikolay Andreitch heard all the rumours current in the town through

Mademoiselle Bourienne; and he had read the note to Princess Marya, in which

Natasha had broken off her engagement. He seemed in better spirits than usual,

and looked forward with impatience to seeing his son.

A few days after Anatole's departure, Pierre received a note from Prince

Andrey to inform him that he had arrived, and to beg him to go and see

him.

The first minute of Prince Andrey's arrival in Moscow, he was handed by his

father Natasha's note to Princess Marya, in which she broke off her engagement

(the note had been stolen from Princess Marya, and given to the old prince by

Mademoiselle Bourienne). He heard from his father's lips the story of Natasha's

elopement, with additions.

Prince Andrey had arrived in the evening; Pierre came to see him the

following morning. Pierre had expected to find Prince Andrey almost in the same

state as Natasha, and he was therefore surprised when as he entered the

drawing-room he heard the sound of Prince Andrey's voice in the study, loudly

and eagerly discussing some Petersburg intrigue. The old prince and some other

voice interrupted him from time to time. Princess Marya came out to meet Pierre.

She sighed, turning her eyes towards the door of the room, where Prince Andrey

was, plainly intending to express her sympathy with his sorrow; but Pierre saw

by Princess Marya's face that she was glad both at what had happened and at the

way her brother had taken the news of his fiancée's treachery.

“He said he had expected it,” she said. “I know his pride will not allow him

to express his feelings; but anyway, he has borne it better, far better, than I

had expected. It seems it was to be so …”

“But is it all really at an end?” said Pierre.

Princess Marya looked at him with surprise. She could not understand how one

could ask such a question. Pierre went into the study. Prince Andrey was very

much changed, and visibly much more robust, but there was a new horizontal line

between his brows. He was in civilian dress, and standing facing his father and

Prince Meshtchersky, he was hotly arguing, making vigorous gesticulations.

The subject was Speransky, of whose sudden dismissal and supposed treason

news had just reached Moscow.

“Now he” (Speransky) “will be criticised and condemned by all who were

enthusiastic about him a month ago,” Prince Andrey was saying, “and were

incapable of understanding his aims. It's very easy to condemn a man when he's

out of favour, and to throw upon him the blame of all the mistakes of other

people. But I maintain that if anything of value has been done in the present

reign, it has been done by him—by him alone …” He stopped, seeing Pierre. His

face quivered, and at once assumed a vindictive expression. “And posterity will

do him justice,” he finished, and at once turned to Pierre. “Well, how are you,

still getting stouter?” he said eagerly, but the new line was still more deeply

furrowed on his forehead. “Yes, I'm very well,” he answered to Pierre's

question, and he smiled. It was clear to Pierre that his smile meant, “I am

well, but my health is of no use to any one now.”

After saying a few words to Pierre of the awful road from the frontiers of

Poland, of people he had met in Switzerland who knew Pierre, and of M. Dessalle,

whom he had brought back from Switzerland as a tutor for his son, Prince Andrey

warmly took part again in the conversation about Speransky, which had been kept

up between the two old gentlemen.

“If there had been treason, and there were proofs of his secret relations

with Napoleon, they would have made them public,” he said, with heat and haste.

“I don't and I didn't like Speransky personally, but I do like justice.”

Pierre recognized now in his friend that desire he knew only too well, for

excitement and discussion of something apart from himself, simply in order to

stifle thoughts that were too painful and too near his heart.

When Prince Meshtchersky had gone, Prince Andrey took Pierre's arm, and asked

him to come to the room that had been assigned him. In that room there was a

folding bedstead and open trunks and boxes. Prince Andrey went up to one of them

and took out a case. Out of the case he took a packet of letters. He did all

this in silence, and very rapidly. He stood up again and cleared his throat. His

face was frowning, and his lips set.

“Forgive me, if I'm troubling you …” Pierre saw that Prince Andrey was going

to speak of Natasha, and his broad face showed sympathy and pity. That

expression in Pierre's face exasperated Prince Andrey. He went on resolutely,

clearly, and disagreeably: “I have received a refusal from Countess Rostov, and

rumours have reached me of your brother-in-law's seeking her hand, or something

of the kind. Is that true?”

“Both true and untrue,” began Pierre; but Prince Andrey cut him short.

“Here are her letters and her portrait,” he said. He took the packet from the

table and gave it to Pierre.

“Give that to the countess … if you will see her.”

“She is very ill,” said Pierre.

“So she's still here?” said Prince Andrey. “And Prince Kuragin?” he asked

quickly.

“He has been gone a long while. She has been at death's door.”

“I am very sorry to hear of her illness,” said Prince Andrey. He laughed a

cold, malignant, unpleasant laugh like his father's.

“But M. Kuragin, then, did not deign to bestow his hand on Countess Rostov?”

said Prince Andrey. He snorted several times.

“He could not have married her, because he is married,” said Pierre.

Prince Andrey laughed unpleasantly, again recalling his father.

“And where is he now, your brother-in-law, may I ask?” he said.

“He went to Peter … but, really, I don't know,” said Pierre.

“Well, that's no matter,” said Prince Andrey. “Tell Countess Rostov from me

that she was and is perfectly free, and that I wish her all prosperity.”

Pierre took the packet. Prince Andrey, as though reflecting whether he had

not something more to say, or waiting for Pierre to say something, looked at him

with a fixed gaze.

“Listen. Do you remember our discussion in Petersburg?” said Pierre. “Do you

remember about—?”

“I remember,” Prince Andrey answered hurriedly. “I said that a fallen woman

should be forgiven, but I did not say I could forgive one. I can't.”

“How can you compare it? …” said Pierre.

Prince Andrey cut him short. He cried harshly: “Yes, ask her hand again, be

magnanimous, and all that sort of thing? … Oh, that's all very noble, but I'm

not equal to following in that gentleman's tracks. If you care to remain my

friend, never speak to me of that … of all this business. Well, good-bye. So

you'll give that? …”

Pierre left him, and went in to the old prince and Princess Marya.

The old man seemed livelier than usual. Princess Marya was the same as usual,

but behind her sympathy for her brother, Pierre detected her relief that her

brother's marriage was broken off. Looking at them, Pierre felt what a contempt

and dislike they all had for the Rostovs; felt that it would be impossible in

their presence even to mention the name of the girl who could give up Prince

Andrey for any one in the world.

At dinner they talked of the coming war, of which there could now be no doubt

in the near future. Prince Andrey talked incessantly, and argued first with his

father, and then with Dessalle, the Swiss tutor. He seemed more eager than

usual, with that eagerness of which Pierre knew so well the inner cause.

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