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oved one woman； and still loved her； and that that woman could never be his。
“Tiens！” said the captain。
Then Pierre explained that he had loved this woman from his earliest youth； but had not dared to think of her because she was too young； and he had been an illegitimate son； with no name of his own。 Then when he had received a name and wealth； he had not dared think of her because he loved her too much； because he set her too high above all the world； and so even more above himself。 On reaching this point； Pierre asked the captain； did he understand that。
The captain made a gesture expressing that whether he understood it or not； he begged him to proceed。
“Platonic love； moonshine…” he muttered。 The wine he had drunk； or an impulse of frankness； or the thought that this man did not know and never would know； any of the persons concerned in his story； or all together loosened Pierre’s tongue。 With faltering lips and with a faraway look in his moist eye； he told all his story； his marriage and the story of Natasha’s love for his dearest friend and her betrayal of him； and all his own simple relations with her。 In response to questions from Ramballe； he told him； too； what he had at first concealed—his position in society—and even disclosed his name。
What impressed the captain more than anything else in Pierre’s story was the fact that Pierre was very wealthy； that he had two palatial houses in Moscow； and that he had abandoned everything； and yet had not left Moscow； but was staying in the town concealing his name and station。
Late in the night they went out together into the street。 The night was warm and clear。 On the left there was the glow of the first fire that broke out in Moscow； in Petrovka。 On the right a young crescent moon stood high in the sky； and in the opposite quarter of the heavens hung the brilliant comet which was connected in Pierre’s heart with his love。 At the gates of the yard stood Gerasim； the cook； and two Frenchmen。 Pierre could hear their laughter and talk； incomprehensible to one another。 They were looking at the glow of the fire burning in the town。
There was nothing alarming in a small remote fire in the immense city。
Gazing at the lofty； starlit sky； at the moon； at the comet and the glow of the fire； Pierre felt a thrill of joyous and tender emotion。 “How fair it all is！ what more does one want？” he thought。 And all at once； when he recalled his design； his head seemed going round； he felt so giddy that he leaned against the fence so as not to fall。
Without taking leave of his new friend； Pierre left the gate with unsteady steps； and going back to his room lay down on the sofa and at once fell asleep。
Chapter 30
FROM VARIOUS ROADS； and with various feelings； the inhabitants running and driving away from Moscow； and the retreating troops； gazed at the glow of the first fire that broke out in the city on the 2nd of September。
The Rostovs’ party stopped for that night at Mytishtchy； twenty versts from Moscow。 They had started so late on the 1st of September； the road had been so blocked by waggons and troops； so many things had been forgotten； and servants sent back to get them； that they had decided to halt for the first night five versts from Moscow。 The next morning they walked late； and there were again so many delays that they only reached Great Mytishtchy。 At ten o’clock the Rostov family； and the wounded soldiers travelling with them； had all found places for the night in the yards and huts of the greater village。 The servants； the Rostovs’ coachmen； and the orderlies of the wounded officers； after settling their masters for the night； supped； fed their horses； and came out into the porch of a hut。
In the next hut lay Raevsky’s adjutant with a broken wrist； and the terrible pain made him moan incessantly； and these moans had a grue…some sound in the autumn darkness of the night。 On the first night this adjutant had spent the night in a building in the same yard as the hut in which the Rostovs slept。 The countess declared that she had not closed her eyes all night from that moaning； and at Mytishtchy she had moved into a less comfortable hut simply to get further away from the wounded man。 One of the servants noticed in the dark night sky； above the high carriage standing at the entry； another small glow of fire。 One such glow had been seen long before； and every one knew it was Little Mytishtchy； which had been set on fire by Mamonov’s Cossacks。
“I say； mates； there’s another fire；” said the man。 All of them looked towards the glow。
“Why； they told us Mamonov’s Cossacks had fired Little Mytishtchy。” “Nay！ that’s not Mytishtchy； it’s further。” “Look’ee； it’s in Moscow seemingly。” Two of the men left the porch； went to a carriage and squatted on the step。 “It’s more to the left！ Why； Mytishtchy is away yonder； and that’s quite the other side。”
Several more men joined the first group。
“I say it is flaring；” said one； “that’s a fire in Moscow； my friends； either in Sushtchovsky or in Rogozhsky。”
No one answered this remark。 And for a good while all these men gazed in silence at the flames of this new conflagration glowing far away。 An old man； the count’s valet （as he was called）； Danilo Terentyitch； came up to the crowd and called Mishka。
“What are you gaping at？ … The count may ask for you and nobody to be found； go and put the clothes together。”
“Oh； I only ran out for some water；” said Mishka。
“And what do you say； Danilo Terentyitch？ that’s a fire in Moscow； isn’t it？” said one of the footmen。
Danilo Terentyitch made no reply； and for a long while all were mute again。 The glow spread wider； and flickered further and further away。
“God have mercy！ … a wind and the drought …” said a voice again。
“Look’ee； how it’s spreading。 O Lord！ why； one can see the jackdaws！ Lord； have mercy on us poor sinners！”
“They’ll put it out； never fear。”
“Who’s to put it out？” cried the voice of Danilo Terentyitch； silent till that moment。 His voice was quiet and deliberate。 “Moscow it is； mates；” he said； “it’s she； our mother； the white city …” his voice broke； and he suddenly burst into the sobs of old age。 And it seemed as though all had been waiting for that to grasp the import for all of that glow they were watching。 Sighs were heard and muttered prayers； and the sobs of the old valet。
Chapter 31
THE VALET on going in informed the count that Moscow was on fire。 The count put on his dressing…gown and went out to look。 With him went Sonya； who had not yet undressed； and Madame Schoss； Natasha and the countess were left alone within。 Petya was no longer with the family； he had gone on ahead with his regiment marching to Troitsa。
The countess wept on hearing that Moscow was in flames。 Natasha； pale； with staring eyes； sat on the bench under the holy images； the spot where she had first thrown herself down on entering； and took no notice of her father’s words。 She was listening to the never…ceasing moan of the adjutant； audible three huts away。
“Oh！ how awful！” cried Sonya； coming in chilled and frightened from the yard。 “I do believe all Moscow is burning： there’s an awful fire！ Natasha； do look； you c