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！
Pierre finished his story。 With shining； eager eyes Natasha still gazed intently and persistently at him； as though she longed to understand something more； that perhaps he had left unsaid。 In shamefaced and happy confusion； Pierre glanced at her now and then； and was thinking what to say now to change the subject。 Princess Marya was mute。 It did not strike any of them that it was three o’clock in the night； and time to be in bed。
“They say： sufferings are misfortunes；” said Pierre。 “But if at once； this minute； I was asked； would I remain what I was before I was taken prisoner； or go through it all again； I should say； for God’s sake let me rather be a prisoner and eat horseflesh again。 We imagine that as soon as we are torn out of our habitual path all is over； but it is only the beginning of something new and good。 As long as there is life； there is happiness。 There is a great deal； a great deal before us。 That I say to you；” he said； turning to Natasha。
“Yes； yes；” she said； answering something altogether different； “and I too would ask for nothing better than to go through it all again。”
Pierre looked intently at her。
“Yes； and nothing more；” Natasha declared。
“Not true； not true；” cried Pierre。 “I am not to blame for being alive and wanting to live； and you the same。”
All at once Natasha let her head drop into her hands； and burst into tears。
“What is it； Natasha？” said Princess Marya。
“Nothing； nothing。” She smiled through her tears to Pierre。 “Good…night； it’s bedtime。”
Pierre got up； and took leave。
Natasha； as she always did； went with Princess Marya into her bedroom。 They talked of what Pierre had told them。 Princess Marya did not give her opinion of Pierre。 Natasha； too； did not talk of him。
“Well； good…night； Marie；” said Natasha。 “Do you know I am often afraid that we don’t talk of him” （she meant Prince Andrey）； “as though we were afraid of desecrating our feelings； and so we forget him。”
Princess Marya sighed heavily； and by this sigh acknowledged the justice of Natasha’s words； but she did not in words agree with her。
“Is it possible to forget？” she said。
“I was so glad to tell all about it to…day； it was hard and painful； and yet I was glad to … very glad；” said Natasha； “I am sure that he really loved him。 That was why I told him … it didn’t matter my telling him？” she asked suddenly； blushing。
“Pierre？ Oh； no！ How good he is；” said Princess Marya。
“Do you know； Marie；” said Natasha； suddenly； with a mischievous smile； such as Princess Marya had not seen for a long while on her face。 “He has become so clean and smooth and fresh； as though he had just come out of a bath； do you understand？ Out of a moral bath。 Isn’t it so？”
“Yes；” said Princess Marya。 “He has gained a great deal。”
“And his short jacket； and his cropped hair； exactly as though he had just come out of a bath … papa used sometimes …”
“I can understand how he” （Prince Andrey） “cared for no one else as he did for him；” said Princess Marya。
“Yes； and he is so different from him。 They say men are better friends when they are utterly different。 That must be true； he is not a bit like him in anything； is he？”
“Yes； and he is such a splendid fellow。”
“Well； good…night；” answered Natasha。 And the same mischievous smile lingered a long while as though forgotten on her face。
Chapter 18
FOR A LONG WHILE Pierre could not sleep that night。 He walked up and down his room； at one moment frowning deep in some difficult train of thought； at the next shrugging his shoulders and shaking himself and at the next smiling blissfully。
He thought of Prince Andrey； of Natasha； of their love； and at one moment was jealous of her past； and at the next reproached himself； and then forgave himself for the feeling。 It was six o’clock in the morning； and still he paced the room。
“Well； what is one to do； if there’s no escaping it？ What is one to do？ It must be the right thing； then；” he said to himself； and hurriedly undressing； he got into bed； happy and agitated； but free from doubt and hesitation。
“However strange； however impossible such happiness； I must do everything that we may be man and wife；” he said to himself。
Several days previously Pierre had fixed on the following Friday as the date on which he would set off to Petersburg。 When he waked up next day it was Thursday； and Savelitch came to him for orders about packing the things for the journey。
“To Petersburg？ What is Petersburg？ Who is in Petersburg？” he unconsciously asked； though only of himself。 “Yes； some long while ago； before this happened； I was meaning for some reason to go to Petersburg；” he recalled。 “Why was it？ And I shall go； perhaps。 How kind he is； and how attentive； how he remembers everything！” he thought； looking at Savelitch’s old face。 “And what a pleasant smile！” he thought。
“Well； and do you still not want your freedom； Savelitch？” asked Pierre。
“What should I want my freedom for； your excellency？ With the late count—the Kingdom of Heaven to him—we got on very well； and under you； we have never known any unkindness。”
“Well； but your children？”
“My children too will do very well； your excellency； under such masters one can get on all right。”
“Well； but my heirs？” said Pierre。 “All of a sudden I shall get married … It might happen； you know；” he added； with an involuntary smile。
“And I make bold to say； a good thing too； your excellency。”
“How easy he thinks it；” thought Pierre。 “He does not know how terrible it is； how perilous。 Too late or too early … It is terrible！”
“What are your orders？ Will you be pleased to go to…morrow？” asked Savelitch。
“No； I will put it off a little。 I will tell you later。 You must excuse the trouble I give you；” said Pierre； and watching Savelitch’s smile； he thought how strange it was； though； that he should not know there was no such thing as Petersburg； and that that must be settled before everything。
“He really does know； though；” he thought； “he is only pretending。 Shall I tell him？ What does he think about it？ No； another time。”
At breakfast； Pierre told his cousin that he had been the previous evening at Princess Marya’s； and had found there—could she fancy whom—Natasha Rostov。
The princess looked as though she saw nothing more extraordinary in that fact than if Pierre had seen some Anna Semyonovna。
“You know her？” asked Pierre。
“I have seen the princess；” she answered； “and I had heard they were making a match between her and young Rostov。 That would be a very fine thing for the Rostovs； I am told they are utterly ruined。”
“No； I meant； do you know Natasha Rostov？”
“I heard at the time all about that story。 Very sad。”
“She does not understand； or she is pretending；” thought Pierre。 “Better not tell her either。”
The princess； too； had prepared provisions for Pierre’s journey。
“How kind they all are；” thought Pierre； “to trouble about all this now； when it certainly can be of no interest to them。 And all for my sake； that is what’s so marvellous。”
The same day a police officer came to see Pierre； with an offer to send a trusty agent to the Polygonal Palace to receive the things