“Well，Sonya，yousaidallsortsofsillythingsabouthim，”Natashabeganinameekvoice，thevoiceinwhichchildrenspeakwhentheywanttobepraisedforbeinggood。“Ihavehaditalloutwithhimto—day。”
“Well，whatdidhesay？Well？Come，whatdidhesay？Natasha，I’msogladyou’renotangrywithme。Tellmeeverything，allthetruth。Whatdidhesay？”
Natashasankintothought。
“OSonya，ifyouknewhimasIdo！Hesaid…HeaskedmewhatpromiseIhadgivenBolkonsky。HewassogladthatIwasfreetorefusehim。”
Sonyasigheddejectedly。
“Butyouhaven’trefusedBolkonsky，haveyou？”shesaid。
“Oh，perhapsIhaverefusedhim！Perhapsit’sallatanendwithBolkonsky。Whydoyouthinksoillofme？”
“Idon’tthinkanything，onlyIdon’tunderstandthis。…”
“Waitalittle，Sonya，youwillunderstanditall。Youwillseethesortofmanheis。Don’tthinkillofme，orofhim。”
“Idon’tthinkillofanyone；Ilikeeveryoneandamsorryforeveryone。ButwhatamItodo？”
SonyawouldnotletherselfbewonoverbytheaffectionatetoneNatashatookwithher。ThesofterandthemoreingratiatingNatasha’sfacebecame，themoreseriousandsternbecamethefaceofSonya。
“Natasha，”shesaid，“youaskedmenottospeaktoyou，andIhaven’tspoken；nowyouhavebegunyourself。Natasha，Idon’ttrusthim。Whythissecrecy？”
“Again，again！”interruptedNatasha。
“Natasha，Iamafraidforyou。”
“Whatistheretobeafraidof？”
“Iamafraidyouwillberuined，”saidSonyaresolutely，herselfhorrifiedatwhatshewassaying。
Natasha’sfaceexpressedangeragain。
“ThenIwillberuined，Iwill；I’llhastentomyruin。It’snotyourbusiness。It’snotyou，butI，willsufferforit。Leavemealone，leavemealone。Ihateyou！”
“Natasha！”Sonyaappealedtoherindismay。
“Ihateyou，Ihateyou！Andyou’remyenemyforever！”
Natasharanoutoftheroom。
NatashaavoidedSonyaanddidnotspeaktoheragain。Withthesameexpressionofagitatedwonderandguiltshewanderedabouttherooms，takingupfirstoneoccupationandthenanother，andthrowingthemasideagainatonce。
HardasitwasforSonya，shekeptwatchoverherfriendandneverletheroutofhersight。
Onthedaybeforethatfixedforthecount’sreturn，SonyanoticedthatNatashasatallthemorningatthedrawing—roomwindow，asthoughexpectingsomething，andthatshemadeasigntoanofficerwhopassedby，whomSonyatooktobeAnatole。
Sonyabeganwatchingherfriendevenmoreattentively，andshenoticedthatalldinner—timeandintheeveningNatashawasinastrangeandunnaturalstate，unlikeherself。Shemadeirrelevantrepliestoquestionsaskedher，begansentencesanddidnotfinishthem，andlaughedateverything。
AfterteaSonyasawthemaidtimidlywaitingforhertopassatNatasha’sdoor。Shelethergoin，andlisteningatthedoor，foundoutthatanotherletterhadbeengivenher。AndallatonceitwascleartoSonyathatNatashahadsomedreadfulplanforthatevening。Sonyaknockedatherdoor。Natashawouldnotletherin。
“Sheisgoingtorunawaywithhim！”thoughtSonya。“Sheiscapableofanything。Therewassomethingparticularlypiteousanddeterminedinherfaceto—day。Shecriedasshesaidgood—byetouncle，”Sonyaremembered。“Yes，it’scertain，she’sgoingtorunawaywithhim；butwhatamItodo？”wonderedSonya，recallingnowallthesignsthatsoclearlybetokenedsomedreadfulresolutiononNatasha’spart。“Thecountisnothere。WhatamItodo？WritetoKuragin，demandinganexplanationfromhim？Butwhoistomakehimanswer？WritetoPierre，asPrinceAndreyaskedmetodoincaseoftrouble？…ButperhapsshereallyhasrefusedBolkonsky（shesentoffalettertoPrincessMaryayesterday）。Uncleisnothere。”
TotellMaryaDmitryevna，whohadsuchfaithinNatasha，seemedtoSonyaafearfulsteptotake。
“Butonewayoranother，”thoughtSonya，standinginthedarkcorridor，“noworneverthetimehascomeformetoshowthatIammindfulofallthebenefitsIhavereceivedfromtheirfamilyandthatIloveNikolay。No，ifIhavetogothreenightstogetherwithoutsleep；Iwon’tleavethiscorridor，andIwillpreventherpassingbyforce，andnotletdisgracecomeupontheirfamily，”shethought。
Chapter16
ANATOLEhadlatelymovedintoDolohov’squarters。TheplanfortheabductionofNatashaRostovhadbeenallplannedoutandpreparedseveraldaysbeforebyDolohov，andonthedaywhenSonyahadlistenedatNatasha’sdoorandresolvedtoprotecther，thatplanwastobeputintoexecution。NatashahadpromisedtocomeouttoKuraginatthebackentranceatteno’clockintheevening。Kuraginwastogetherintoasledgethatwastobeallreadywiththreehorsesinit，andtodriveheroffsixtyverstsfromMoscowtothevillageofKamenka，whereanunfrockedpriestwasinreadinesstoperformamarriageceremonyoverthem。AtKamenkaarelayofhorseswastobeinreadiness，whichwastotakethemasfarastheWarsawroad，andthencetheyweretohastenabroadbymeansofpost—horses。
Anatolehadapassportandanorderforpost—horsesandtenthousandroublesborrowedfromhissister，andtenthousandmoreraisedbytheassistanceofDolohov。
Thetwowitnessesofthemockmarriageceremony—Hvostikov，onceapettyofficial，amanofwhomDolohovmadeuseatcards，andMakarin，aretiredhussar，aweakandgood—naturedman，whosedevotiontoKuraginwasunbounded—weresittingovertheirteaintheouterroom。
InDolohov’sbigstudy，decoratedfromthewallstotheceilingwithPersianrugs，bearskins，andweapons，Dolohovwassittinginatravellingtunicandhighbootsinfrontofanopenbureauonwhichlayaccountsandbundlesofbanknotes。Anatole，inanunbuttoneduniform，waswalkingtoandfrofromtheroomwherethewitnessesweresittingthroughthestudyintoaroombehind，wherehisFrenchvaletwithsomeotherservantswaspackingupthelastofhisbelongings。Dolohovwasreckoningupmoneyandnotingdownsums。
“Well，”hesaid，“youwillhavetogiveHvostikovtwothousand。”
“Well，giveithimthen，”saidAnatole。
“Makarkanow”（theirnameforMakarin），“hewouldgothroughfireandwaterforyouwithnothingtogainbyit。Well，herethen，ouraccountsarefinished，”saidDolohov，showinghimthepaper。“That’sallright？”
“Yes，ofcourse，it’sallright，”saidAnatole，evidentlynotattendingtoDolohov，andlookingstraightbeforehimwithasmilethatneverlefthisface。
Dolohovshutthebureauwithaslam，andturnedtoAnatolewithaironicalsmile。
“ButIsay，youdropitall；there’sstilltime！”hesaid。
“Idiot！”saidAnatole。“Leaveofftalkingrubbish。Ifonlyyouknew。…Devilonlyknowswhatthismeanstome！”
“You’dreallybetterdropit，”saidDolohov。“I’mspeakinginearnest。It’snojokingmatterthisschemeofyours。”
“Why，teasingagain，again？Gotothedevil！Eh。…”saidAnatole，frowning。“Really，I’minnohumourforyourstupidjokes。”Andhewentoutoftheroom。
DolohovsmiledacontemptuousandsupercilioussmilewhenAnatolehadgone。
“Waitabit，”hecalledafterAnatole。“I’mnotjoking。I’minearnest。Comehere，comehere！”
Anatolecamebackintotheroom，andtryingtoconcentratehisattention，lookedatDolohov，obviouslyobeyinghimunwillingly。
“Listentome。I’mspeakingtoyouforthelasttime。WhatshouldIwanttojokewithyoufor？HaveIeverthwartedyou？Whowasitarrangeditallforyou？Whofoundyourpriest？Whotookyourpassport？Whogotyouyourmoney？Ithasallbeenmydoing。”
“Well，andthankyouforit。DoyousupposeI’mnotgrateful？”AnatolesighedandembracedDolohov。
“Ihavehelpedyou；butstillIoughttotellyouthetruth:it’sadangerousbusiness，andifyoucometothinkofit，it’sstupid。Come，youcarryheroff，wellandgood。Doyousupposethey’llletitrest？Itwillcomeoutthatyouaremarried。Why，theywillhaveyouuponacriminalcharge，youknow…”
“Oh，nonsense，nonsense！”saidAnatole，frowningagain。“Why，didn’tIexplaintoyou？Eh？”andAnatole，withthatpeculiarpartiality（commoninpersonsofdullbrain），foranyconclusiontowhichtheyhavebeenledbytheirownmentalprocesses，repeatedtheargumenthehadrepeatedahundredtimesovertoDolohovalready。“Why，Iexplainedit，Isettledthat。Ifthismarriageisinvalid，”hesaid，crookinghisfinger，“thenitfollowsI’mnotanswerableforit。Well，andifitisvalid，itwon’tmatter。Noonewilleverknowofitabroad，so，yousee，it’sallright，isn’tit？Anddon’ttalktome；don’ttalktome；don’ttalktome！”
“Really，youdropit。You’llgetyourselfintoamess…”
“Yougotothedevil！”saidAnatole，andclutchingathishairhewentoffintothenextroom，butatoncereturninghesatwithhislegsuponanarm—chairclosetoDolohovandfacinghim。“Devilonlyknowswhat’sthematterwithme！Eh？Seehowitbeats。”HetookDolohov’shandandputitonhisheart。“Ah，whatafoot，mydearboy，whataglance！Agoddess！”hesaidinFrench。“Eh？”
Dolohov，withacoldsmileandagleaminhishandsomeimpudenteyes，lookedathim，obviouslydisposedtogetalittlemoreamusementoutofhim。
“Well，yourmoneywillbegone，whatthen？”
“Whatthen？Eh？”repeatedAnatole，withgenuineperplexityatthethoughtofthefuture。“Whatthen？Idon’tknowwhatthen…Come，whytalknonsense？”Helookedathiswatch。“It’stime！”
Anatolewentintothebackroom。
“Well，willyousoonhavedone？You’redawdlingthere，”heshoutedattheservants。
Dolohovputawaythemoney；andcallingaservanttogivehimordersaboutgettingsomethingtoeatanddrinkbeforethejourney，hewentintotheroomwhereHvostikovandMakarinweresitting。
Anatolelaydownonthesofainthestudy，and，proppedonhiselbows，smiledpensivelyandmurmuredsomethingferventlytohimself。
“Comeandhavesomethingtoeat。Here，haveadrink！”Dolohovshoutedtohimfromtheotherroom。
“Idon’twantto，”answeredAnatole，stillsmiling。
“Come，Balagaishere。”
Anatolegotup，andwentintothedining—room。Balagawasawell—knowndriver，whohadknownDolohovandAnatoleforthelastsixyears，anddriventheminhisthree—horsesledges。Morethanonce，whenAnatole’sregimenthadbeenstationedatTver，hehaddrivenhimoutofTverintheevening，reachedMoscowbydawn，anddrivenhimbackthenextnight。MorethanoncehehaddrivenDolohovsafeawaywhenhewasbeingpursued。Manyatimehehaddriventhemaboutthetownwithgypsiesand“gayladies，”ashecalledthem。Morethanonehorsehadheruinedindrivingthem。MorethanoncehehaddrivenoverpeopleandupsetvehiclesinMoscow，andalwayshis“gentlemen，”ashecalledthem，hadgothimoutoftrouble。Manyatimehadtheybeatenhim，manyatimemadehimdrunkwithchampagneandmadeira，awineheloved，andmorethanoneexploitheknewofeachofthem，whichwouldlongagohavesentanyordinarymantoSiberia。TheyoftencalledBalagaintotheircarousals，madehimdrinkanddancewiththegypsies，andmanyathousandroublesoftheirmoneyhadpassedthroughhishands。Intheirservice，twentytimesayear，heriskedhislifeandhisskin，andworeoutmorehorsesthantheyrepaidhimforinmoney。Buthelikedthem，likedtheirfuriousdriving，eighteenverstsanhour，likedupsettingcoachmen，andrunningdownpeopleonfootinMoscow，andalwaysflewfullgallopalongtheMoscowstreets。Helikedtohearbehindhimthewildshoutofdrunkenvoices，“Geton；geton！”whenitwasimpossibletodrivefaster；likedtogivealashonthenecktoapassingpeasantwhowasalreadyhasteningoutofhiswaymoredeadthanalive。“Realgentlemen！”hethought。
AnatoleandDolohovlikedBalaga，too，forhisspiriteddriving，andbecausehelikedthesamethingsthattheyliked。WithotherpeopleBalagadrovehardbargains；hewouldtakeasmuchastwenty—fiveroublesforatwohours’drive，andrarelydrovehimself，generallysendingoneofhisyoungmen。Butwithhisowngentlemen，ashecalledthem，healwaysdrovehimself，andneveraskedforanythingforthejob。
Onlyafterlearningthroughtheirvaletswhenmoneywasplentiful，hewouldturnuponceeveryfewmonthsinthemorning；andsober，andbowinglow，wouldaskthemtohelphimoutofhisdifficulties。Thegentlemenalwaysmadehimsitdown。
“Please，helpmeoutofascrape，FyodorIvanovitch，oryourexcellency，”hewouldsay。“I’mquiterunoutofhorses；lendmewhatyoucantogotothefair。”
AndwhenevertheywereflushofmoneyAnatoleandDolohovwouldgivehimathousandortwo。
Balagawasaflaxen—headed，squat，snub—nosedpeasantofsevenandtwenty，witharedfaceandaparticularlyred，thickneck，littlesparklingeyes，andalittlebeard。Heworeafinebluesilk—linedfullcoat，putonoverafurpelisse。
Hecrossedhimself，facingtheoppositecorner，andwentuptoDolohov，holdingouthisblack，littlehand。
“RespectstoFyodorIvanovitch！”saidhe，bowing
“Good—daytoyou，brother。Well，herehecomes！”
“Good—morning，yourexcellency！”hesaidtoAnatoleashecameinandtohim，too，heheldouthishand。
“Isay，Balaga，”saidAnatole，layinghishandsonhisshoulders，“doyoucareformeornot？Eh？Now’sthetimetodomegoodservice。…Whatsortofhorseshaveyoucomewith？Eh？”
“Asthemessengerbademe；yourfavouritebeasts，”saidBalaga。
“Come，Balaga，doyouhear？Youmaykillallthreeofthem；onlygetthereinthreehours。Eh？”
“IfIkillthem，howarewetogetthere？”saidBalaga，winking。
“Noneofyourjokesnow。I’llsmashyourfacein！”criedAnatolesuddenly，rollinghiseyes。
“Jokes！”saidthedriver，laughing。“DoIgrudgeanythingformygentlemen？Asfastaseverthehorsescangallopweshallgetthere。”
“Ah！”saidAnatole。“Well，sitdown。”
“Come，sitdown，”saidDolohov。
“Oh，I’llstand，FyodorIvanovitch。”
“Sitdown；nonsense！haveadrink，”saidAnatole，andhepouredhimoutabigglassofmadeira。Thedriver’seyessparkledatthesightofthewine。Refusingitatfirstformanners’sake，hetosseditoff，andwipedhismouthwitharedsilkhandkerchiefthatlayinhiscap。
“Well，andwhenarewetostart，yourexcellency？”
“Oh…”Anatolelookedathiswatch。“Wemustsetoffatonce。Nowmind，Balaga。Eh？You’llgetthereintime？”
“Tobesure，ifwe’veluckingettingoff。Whyshouldn’twedoitinthetime？”saidBalaga。“WegotyoutoTver，andgotthereinsevenhours。Youremember，Ibet，yourexcellency！”
“Doyouknow，IoncedrovefromTveratChristmastime，”saidAnatole，withasmileattherecollection，addressingMakarin，whowasgazingadmiringlyathim。“Wouldyoubelieveit，Makarka，onecouldhardlybreatheweflewsofast。Wedroveintoatrainofwagonsandroderightovertwoofthem！Eh？”
“Theywerehorses，too，”Balagawenton。“I’dputtwoyounghorsesinthetraceswiththebayintheshafts”—heturnedtoDolohov—“and，wouldyoubelieveme，FyodorIvanovitch，sixtyverststhosebeastsgalloped。Therewasnoholdingthem，formyhandswerenumb；itwasafrost。Iflungdownthereins。“Youholdthemyourself，yourexcellency，”saidI，andIrolledupinsidethesledge。Noneedofdrivingthem。Why，wecouldn’tholdtheminwhenwegotthere。Inthreehoursthedevilsbroughtus。Onlytheleftonediedofit。”
Chapter17
ANATOLEwentoutoftheroom，andafewminuteslaterhecamebackwearingafurpelisse，girtwithasilverbelt，andasablecap，jauntilystuckononeside，andverybecomingtohishandsomeface。Lookingathimselfinthelooking—glass，andthenstandingbeforeDolohovinthesameattitudehehadtakenbeforethelooking—glass，hetookaglassofwine。
“Well，Fedya，farewell；thanksforeverything，andfarewell，”saidAnatole。“Come，comrades，friends…”—hegrewpensive—“ofmyyouth…farewell，”heturnedtoMakarinandtheothers。
Althoughtheywereallgoingwithhim，Anatoleevidentlywantedtomakeatouchingandsolemnceremonyofthisaddresstohiscomrades。Hespokeinaloud，deliberatevoice，squaringhischestandswingingoneleg。
“Alltakeglasses；youtoo，Balaga。Well，lads，friendsofmyyouth，wehavehadjollyspreestogether。Eh？Now，whenshallwemeetagain？I’mgoingabroad！We’vehadagoodtime，andfarewell，lads。Here’stoourhealth！Hurrah！…”hesaid，tossingoffhisglass，andflingingitonthefloor。
“Toyourhealth！”saidBalaga。He，too，emptiedhisglassandwipedhislipswithhishandkerchief。
MakarinembracedAnatolewithtearsinhiseyes。
“Ah，prince，howitgrievesmyhearttopartfromyou，”hesaid。
“Start！start！”shoutedAnatole。
Balagawasgoingoutoftheroom。
“No；stay，”saidAnatole。“Shutthedoor；wemustsitdown。Likethis。”Theyshutthedoorandallsatdown。
“Well，now，quick，march，lads！”saidAnatole，gettingup。
Thevalet，Joseph，gaveAnatolehisknapsackandsword，andtheyallwentoutintothevestibule。
“Butwhere’safurcloak？”saidDolohov。“Hey，Ignatka！RunintoMatryonaMatveyevna，andaskherforthesablecloak。I’veheardwhatelopementsarelike，”saidDolohov，winking。“She’llcomeskippingoutmoredeadthanalivejustinthethingsshehadonindoors；theslightestdelayandthentherearetears，anddearpapaanddearmamma，andshe’sfrozeninaminuteandforgoingbackagain—youwrapherupinacloakatonceandcarryhertothesledge。”
Thevaletbroughtawoman’sfox—linedpelisse。
“Fool，Itoldyouthesable。Hey，Matryoshka，thesable，”heshouted，sothathisvoicerangoutthroughtherooms。
Ahandsome，thin，andpalegypsywoman，withshiningblackeyesandcurlyblackhair，withabluishshadeinit，ranout，wearingaredshawlandholdingasablecloakonherarm。
“Here，Idon’tgrudgeit；takeit，”shesaid，invisiblefearofherlordandregretfulatlosingthecloak。
Dolohov，makinghernoanswer，tookthecloak，flungitaboutMatryosha，andwrappedherupinit。
“That’stheway，”saidDolohov。“Andthenthisistheway，”hesaidandheturnedthecollaruproundherhead，leavingitonlyalittleopenbeforetheface。“Andthenthisistheway，doyousee？”andhemovedAnatole’sheadforwardtomeettheopenspaceleftbythecollar，fromwhichMatryosha’sflashingsmilepeepedout。
“Well，good—bye，Matryosha，”saidAnatole，kissingher。“Ah，allmyfunhereisover！GivemylovetoStyoshka。There，good—bye！Good—bye，Matryosha；wishmehappiness。”
“Godgrantyougreathappiness，prince，”saidMatryosha，withhergypsyaccent。
Atthestepsstoodtwothree—horsesledges；twostalwartyoungdriverswereholdingthem。Balagatookhisseatintheforemost，andholdinghiselbowshigh，begandeliberatelyarrangingthereinsinhishands。AnatoleandDolohovgotinwithhim。Makarin，Hvostikov，andthevaletgotintotheothersledge。
“Ready，eh？”queriedBalaga。“Off！”heshouted，twistingthereinsroundhishands，andthesledgeflewatbreak—neckpacealongtheNikitskyBoulevard。
“Tprroo！Hi！…Tproo！！”Balagaandtheyoungdriverontheboxwerecontinuallyshouting。
InArbatskySquarethesledgecameintocollisionwithacarriage；therewasacrashandshouts，andthesledgeflewoffalongArbaty。TurningtwicealongPodnovinsky，Balagabegantopullup，andturningback，stoppedthehorsesattheOldEquerrys’crossing。
Asmartyoungdriverjumpeddowntoholdthehorsesbythebridle；AnatoleandDolohovwalkedalongthepavement。Onreachingthegates，Dolohovwhistled。Thewhistlewasanswered，andamaid—servantranout。
“Comeintothecourtyard，oryou’llbeseen；sheiscominginaminute，”shesaid。
Dolohovstayedatthegate。Anatolefollowedthemaidintothecourtyard，turnedacorner，andranupthesteps。
HewasmetbyGavrilo，MaryaDmitryevna’shugegroom。
“Walkthiswaytothemistress，”saidthegroominhisbass，blockingupthedoorway。
“Whatmistress？Andwhoareyou？”Anatoleaskedinabreathlesswhisper。
“Walkin；myordersaretoshowyouin。”
“Kuragin！back！”shoutedDolohov。“Treachery，back！”
Dolohov，atthelittlebackgatewherehehadstopped，wasstrugglingwiththeporter，whowastryingtoshutthegateafterAnatoleasheranin。WithadesperateeffortDolohovshovedawaytheporter，andclutchingatAnatole，pulledhimthroughthegate，andranbackwithhimtothesledge。
Chapter18
MARYADMITRYEVNAcominguponSonyaweepinginthecorridorhadforcedhertoconfesseverything。SnatchingupNatasha’sletterandreadingit，MaryaDmitryevnawentintoNatasha，withtheletterinherhand。
“Vilegirl，shamelesshussy！”shesaidtoher。“Iwon’thearaword！”PushingasideNatasha，whogazedatherwithamazedbuttearlesseyes，shelockedherintotheroom，andgivingorderstohergateportertoadmitthepersonswhowouldbecomingthatevening，butnottoallowthemtopassoutagain，andgivinghergroomsorderstoshowthosepersonsuptoher，sheseatedherselfinthedrawing—roomawaitingtheabductors。
WhenGavrilocametoannouncetoMaryaDmitryevnathatthepersonswhohadcomehadrunaway，shegotupfrowning，andclaspingherhandsbehindher，walkedalongwhileupanddownthroughherrooms，ponderingwhatshewastodo。AtmidnightshewalkedtowardsNatasha’sroom，feelingthekeyinherpocket。Sonyawassittingsobbinginthecorridor，“MaryaDmitryevna，do，forGod’ssake，letmegointoher！”shesaid。
MaryaDmitryevna，makinghernoreply，openedthedoorandwentin。“Hateful，disgusting，inmyhouse，thenastyhussy，onlyI’msorryforherfather！”MaryaDmitryevnawasthinking，tryingtoallayherwrath。“Hardasitmaybe，Iwillforbidanyonetospeakofit，andwillconcealitfromthecount。”MaryaDmitryevnawalkedwithresolutestepsintotheroom。
Natashawaslyingonthesofa；shehadherheadhiddeninherhandsanddidnotstir。ShewaslyinginexactlythesamepositioninwhichMaryaDmitryevnahadlefther。
“You’reanicegirl，averynicegirl！”saidMaryaDmitryevna。“Encouragingmeetingswithloversinmyhouse！There’snouseinhumbugging。YoulistenwhenIspeaktoyou。”MaryaDmitryevnatouchedheronthearm。“YoulistenwhenIspeak。You’vedisgracedyourselflikethelowestwench。Idon’tknowwhatIcouldn’tdotoyou，butIfeelforyourfather。Iwillhideitfromhim。”
Natashadidnotchangeherposition，onlyherwholebodybegantowrithewithnoiseless，convulsivesobs，whichchokedher。MaryaDmitryevnalookedroundatSonya，andsatdownontheedgeofthesofabesideNatasha。
“It’sluckyforhimthatheescapedme；butI’llgetholdofhim，”shesaidinhercoarsevoice。“DoyouhearwhatIsay，eh？”SheputherbighandunderNatasha’sface，andturnedittowardsher。BothMaryaDmitryevnaandSonyaweresurprisedwhentheysawNatasha’sface。Hereyeswereglitteringanddry；herlipstightlycompressed；hercheekslookedsunken。
“Letmebe…whatdoI…Ishalldie。…”shearticulated，withangryeffort，toreherselfawayfromMaryaDmitryevna，andfellbackintothesameattitudeagain。
“Natalya！…”saidMaryaDmitryevna。“Iwishforyourgood。Liestill；come，liestilllikethatthen，Iwon’ttouchyou，andlisten。…I’mnotgoingtotellyouhowwronglyyouhaveacted。Youknowthatyourself。Butnowyourfather’scomingbackto—morrow。WhatamItotellhim？Eh？”
AgainNatasha’sbodyheavedwithsobs。
“Well，hewillhearofit，yourbrother，yourbetrothed！”
“Ihavenobetrothed；Ihaverefusedhim，”criedNatasha。
“Thatmakesnodifference，”pursuedMaryaDmitryevna。“Well，theyhearofit。Doyousupposetheywillletthematterrest？Supposehe—yourfather，Iknowhim—ifhechallengeshimtoaduel，willthatbeallright？Eh？”
“Oh，letmebe；whydidyouhindereverything！Why？why？whoaskedyouto？”criedNatasha，gettingupfromthesofa，andlookingvindictivelyatMaryaDmitryevna。
“Butwhatwasityouwanted？”screamedMaryaDmitryevna，gettinghotagain。“Why，youweren’tshutup，wereyou？Whohinderedhiscomingtothehouse？Whycarryyouoff，likesomegypsywench？…Ifhehadcarriedyouoff，doyousupposetheywouldn’thavecaughthim？Yourfather，orbrother，orbetrothed？He’sawretch，ascoundrel，that’swhatheis！”
“He’sbetterthananyofyou，”criedNatasha，gettingup。“Ifyouhadn’tmeddled…OmyGod，whatdoesitmean？Sonya，whydidyou？Goaway！…”Andshesobbedwithadespairwithwhichpeopleonlybewailatroubletheyfeeltheyhavebroughtonthemselves。
MaryaDmitryevnawasbeginningtospeakagain；butNatashacried，“Goaway，goaway，youallhatemeanddespiseme！”Andsheflungherselfagainonthesofa。
MaryaDmitryevnawentonforsometimelongerlecturingNatasha，andurgingonherthatitmustallbekeptfromthecount，thatnoonewouldknowanythingofitifNatashawouldonlyundertaketoforgetitall，andnottoshowasigntoanyoneofanythinghavinghappened。Natashamadenoanswer。Shedidnotsobanymore，butshewastakenwithshiveringfitsandtrembling。MaryaDmitryevnaputapillowunderherhead，laidtwoquiltsoverher，andbroughthersomelime—flowerwaterwithherownhands；butNatashamadenoresponsewhenshespoketoher。
“Well，lethersleep，”saidMaryaDmitryevna，asshewentoutoftheroom，supposinghertobeasleep。ButNatashawasnotasleep，herwide—openeyesgazedstraightbeforeheroutofherpaleface。AllthatnightNatashadidnotsleep，anddidnotweep，andsaidnotawordtoSonya，whogotupseveraltimesandwentintoher。
Nextday，atlunchtime，ashehadpromised，CountIlyaAndreitcharrivedfromhisestateintheenvirons。Hewasinverygoodspirits:hehadcometotermswiththepurchaser，andtherewasnothingnowtodetainhiminMoscowawayfromhiscountess，forwhomhewaspining。MaryaDmitryevnamethim，andtoldhimthatNatashahadbeenveryunwellonthepreviousday，thattheyhadsentforadoctor，andthatnowshewasbetter。Natashadidnotleaveherroomthatmorning。Withtightlyshut，parchedlips，anddry，staringeyes，shesatatthewindowuneasilywatchingthepassers—byalongthestreet，andhurriedlylookingroundatanyonewhoenteredherroom。Shewasobviouslyexpectingnewsofhim，expectingthathewouldcomehimselforwouldwritetoher。
Whenthecountwentintoher，sheturneduneasilyatthesoundofhismanlytread，andherfaceresumeditspreviouscoldandevenvindictiveexpression。Shedidnotevengetuptomeethim。
“Whatisit，myangel；areyouill？”askedthecount。
Natashawassilentamoment。
“Yes，Iamill，”sheanswered。
Inanswertothecount’sinquirieswhyshewasdepressedandwhetheranythinghadhappenedwithherbetrothed，sheassuredhimthatnothinghad，andbeggedhimnottobeuneasy。MaryaDmitryevnaconfirmedNatasha’sassurancesthatnothinghadhappened。Fromthepretenceofillness，fromhisdaughter’sagitatedstate，andthetroubledfacesofSonyaandMaryaDmitryevna，thecountsawclearlythatsomethinghadhappenedinhisabsence。Butitwassoterribletohimtobelievethatanythingdisgracefulhadhappenedtohisbeloveddaughter，andhesoprizedhisowncheerfulserenity，thatheavoidedinquiriesandtriedtoassurehimselfthatitwasnothingveryoutoftheway，andonlygrievedthatherindispositionwoulddelaytheirreturntothecountry。
Chapter19
FROMTHEDAYofhiswife’sarrivalinMoscow，Pierrehadbeenintendingtogoawaysomewhereelse，simplynottobewithher。SoonaftertheRostovs’arrivalinMoscow，theimpressionmadeuponhimbyNatashahadimpelledhimtohastenincarryingouthisintention。HewenttoTvertoseethewidowofOsipAlexyevitch，whohadlongbeforepromisedtogivehimpapersofthedeceased’s。
WhenPierrecamebacktoMoscow，hewashandedaletterfromMaryaDmitryevna，whosummonedhimtoheronamatterofgreatimportance，concerningAndreyBolkonskyandhisbetrothed。PierrehadbeenavoidingNatasha。Itseemedtohimthathehadforherafeelingstrongerthanamarriedmanshouldhaveforagirlbetrothedtohisfriend。Andsomefatewascontinuallythrowinghimintohercompany。
“Whathashappened？Andwhatdotheywantwithme？”hethoughtashedressedtogotoMaryaDmitryevna’s。“IfonlyPrinceAndreywouldmakehastehomeandmarryher，”thoughtPierreonthewaytothehouse。
IntheTverskoyBoulevardsomeoneshoutedhisname。
“Pierre！Beenbacklong？”afamiliarvoicecalledtohim。Pierreraisedhishead。Anatole，withhiseverlastingcompanionMakarin，dashedbyinasledgewithapairofgreytrotting—horses，whowerekickingupthesnowontotheforepartofthesledge。Anatolewassittingintheclassicposeofmilitarydandies，thelowerpartofhisfacemuffledinhisbeavercollar，andhisheadbentalittleforward。Hisfacewasfreshandrosy；hishat，withitswhiteplume，wasstuckononeside，showinghiscurled，pomadedhair，sprinkledwithfinesnow。
“Indeed，heistherealphilosopher！”thoughtPierre。“Heseesnothingbeyondthepresentmomentofpleasure；nothingworrieshim，andsoheisalwayscheerful，satisfied，andserene。WhatwouldInotgivetobejustlikehim！”Pierremusedwithenvy。
InMaryaDmitryevna’sentrance—hallthefootman，ashetookoffPierre’sfurcoat，toldhimthathismistressbeggedhimtocometoherinherbedroom。
Asheopenedthedoorintothereception—room，PierrecaughtsightofNatasha，sittingatthewindowwithathin，pale，andill—temperedface。Shelookedroundathim，frowned，andwithanexpressionoffrigiddignitywalkedoutoftheroom。
“Whathashappened？”askedPierre，goingintoMaryaDmitryevna。
“Finedoings，”answeredMaryaDmitryevna。“Fifty—eightyearsIhavelivedintheworld—neverhaveIseenanythingsodisgraceful。”AndexactingfromPierrehiswordofhonournottosayawordaboutallhewastohear，MaryaDmitryevnainformedhimthatNatashahadbrokenoffherengagementwithouttheknowledgeofherparents；thatthecauseofherdoingsowasAnatoleKuragin，withwhomPierre’swifehadthrownher，andwithwhomNatashahadattemptedtoelopeinherfather’sabsenceinordertobesecretlymarriedtohim。
Pierre，withhunchedshouldersandopenmouth，listenedtowhatMaryaDmitryevnawassaying，hardlyabletobelievehisears。ThatPrinceAndrey’sfiancée，sopassionatelylovedbyhim，NatashaRostov，hithertosocharming，shouldgiveupBolkonskyforthatfoolAnatole，whowasmarriedalready（Pierreknewthesecretofhismarriage），andbesomuchinlovewithhimastoconsenttoelopewithhim—thatPierrecouldnotconceiveandcouldnotcomprehend。HecouldnotreconcilethesweetimpressionhehadinhissoulofNatasha，whomhehadknownfromchildhood，withthisnewconceptionofherbaseness，folly，andcruelty。Hethoughtofhiswife。“Theyareallalike，”hesaidtohimself，reflectinghewasnottheonlymanwhoseunhappyfateitwastobeboundtoalowwoman。ButstillhefeltreadytoweepwithsorrowforPrinceAndrey，withsorrowforhispride。Andthemorehefeltforhisfriend，thegreaterwasthecontemptandevenaversionwithwhichhethoughtofNatasha，whohadjustpassedhimwithsuchanexpressionofrigiddignity。HecouldnotknowthatNatasha’sheartwasfilledwithdespair，shame，andhumiliation，andthatitwasnotherfaultthatherfaceaccidentallyexpresseddignityandseverity。
“What！getmarried？”criedPierreatMaryaDmitryevna’swords。“Hecan’tgetmarried；heismarried。”
“Worseandworse，”saidMaryaDmitryevna。“He’saniceyouth。Aperfectscoundrel。Andshe’sexpectinghim；she’sbeenexpectinghimthesetwodays。Wemusttellher；atleastshewillleaveoffexpectinghim。”
AfterlearningfromPierrethedetailsofAnatole’smarriage，andpouringoutherwrathagainsthiminabusiveepithets，MaryaDmitryevnainformedPierreofherobjectinsendingforhim。MaryaDmitryevnawasafraidthatthecountorBolkonsky，whomightarriveanymoment，mighthearoftheaffair，thoughsheintendedtoconcealitfromthem，andmightchallengeKuragin，andshethereforebeggedPierretobidhisbrother—in—lawfromhertoleaveMoscowandnottodaretoshowhimselfinherpresence。Pierrepromisedtodoasshedesiredhim，onlythengraspingthedangermenacingtheoldcount，andNikolay，andPrinceAndrey。Afterbrieflyandpreciselyexplainingtohimherwishes，shelethimgotothedrawing—room。
“Mind，thecountknowsnothingofit。Youbehaveasthoughyouknownothing，”shesaidtohim。“AndI’llgoandtellherit’snouseforhertoexpecthim！Andstaytodinner，ifyoucareto，”MaryaDmitryevnacalledafterPierre。
Pierremettheoldcount。Heseemedupsetandanxious。ThatmorningNatashahadtoldhimthatshehadbrokenoffherengagementtoBolkonsky。
“I’mintrouble，introuble，mydearfellow，”hesaidtoPierre，“withthosegirlswithoutthemother。IdoregretnowthatIcame。Iwillbeopenwithyou。Haveyouheardshehasbrokenoffherengagementwithoutawordtoanyone？Ineverdid，I’lladmit，feelverymuchpleasedatthemarriage。He’sanexcellentman，ofcourse，butstilltherecouldbenohappinessagainstafather’swill，andNatashawillneverwantforsuitors。Stillithadbeengoingonsolong，andthensuchastep，withoutherfather’sorhermother’sknowledge！Andnowshe’sill，andGodknowswhatitis。It’sabadthing，count，abadthingtohaveadaughterawayfromhermother。…”Pierresawthecountwasgreatlytroubled，andtriedtochangetheconversationtosomeothersubject，butthecountwentbackagaintohistroubles。
Sonyacameintothedrawing—roomwithanagitatedface。
“Natashaisnotverywell；sheisinherroomandwouldliketoseeyou。MaryaDmitryevnaiswithherandsheasksyoutocometoo。”
“Why，yes，you’resuchagreatfriendofBolkonsky’s；nodoubtshewantstosendhimsomemessage，”saidthecount。“Ah，myGod，myGod！Howhappyitallwas！”Andclutchingathissparselocks，thecountwentoutoftheroom。
MaryaDmitryevnahadtoldNatashathatAnatolewasmarried。Natashawouldnotbelieveher，andinsistedonthestatementbeingconfirmedbyPierrehimself。SonyatoldPierrethisassheledhimacrossthecorridortoNatasha’sroom。
Natasha，paleandstern，wassittingbesideMaryaDmitryevna，andshemetPierreatthedoorwitheyesoffeverishbrillianceandinquiry。Shedidnotsmilenornodtohim。Shesimplylookedhardathim，andthatlookaskedhimsimply:washeafriendoranenemyliketherest，asregardsAnatole？Pierreinhimselfhadevidentlynoexistenceforher。
“Heknowseverything，”saidMaryaDmitryevna，addressingNatasha。“LethimtellyouwhetherIhavespokenthetruth。”
Asahunted，woundedbeastlooksattheapproachingdogsandhunters，Natashalookedfromonetotheother。
“NatalyaIlyinitchna，”Pierrebegan，droppinghiseyesandconsciousofafeelingofpityforherandloathingfortheoperationhehadtoperform，“whetheritistrueornotcannotaffectyousince…”
“Thenitisnottruethatheismarried？”
“No；itistrue。”
“Hashebeenmarriedlong？”sheasked。“Onyourwordofhonour？”
Pierretoldhersoonhiswordofhonour。
“Ishestillhere？”sheaskedrapidly。
“Yes，Ihavejustseenhim。”
Shewasobviouslyincapableofspeaking；shemadeasignwithherhandsforthemtoleaveheralone。
Chapter20
PIERREdidnotstaytodinnerbutwentawayatonceonleavingNatasha’sroom。HedroveaboutthetownlookingforAnatoleKuragin，attheverythoughtofwhomthebloodrushedtohisheart，andhefeltadifficultyinbreathing。Ontheice—hills，atthegypsies’，atSomonenohewasnottobefound。Pierredrovetotheclub。Intheclubeverythingwasgoingonjustasusual:thememberswhohadcomeintodinnerweresittingingroups；theygreetedPierre，andtalkedofthenewsofthetown。Thefootman，aftergreetinghim，toldhim，asheknewhisfriendsandhishabits，thattherewasaplaceleftforhiminthelittledining—room，thatPrinceMihailZaharitchwasinthelibrary，andthatPavelTimofeitchhadnotcomeinyet。OneofPierre’sacquaintancesaskedhiminthemiddleofaconversationabouttheweather，whetherhehadheardofKuragin’selopementwithNatalieRostov，ofwhicheveryonewastalkinginthetown；wasittrue？Pierresaid，laughing，thatitwasallnonsense，forhehadjustcomefromtheRostovs’。HeaskedeveryoneaboutAnatole；onemantoldhimhehadnotcomeinyet；anothersaidhewastodinetherethatday。ItwasstrangetoPierretolookatthatcalm，indifferentcrowdofpeople，whoknewnothingofwhatwaspassinginhissoul。Hewalkedaboutthehall，waitedtilleveryonehadcomein，andstillseeingnothingofAnatole，hedidnotdine，butdrovehome。
AnatolewasdiningthatdaywithDolohov，andconsultingwithhimhowtoachievetheexploitthathadmiscarried。ItseemedtohimessentialtoseeNatasha。Intheeveninghewenttohissister’s，todiscusswithhermeansforarrangingtheirmeeting。WhenPierre，aftervainlydrivingaboutallMoscow，returnedhome，hisvalettoldhimthatPrinceAnatoleVassilyevitchwaswiththecountess。Thedrawing—roomofthecountesswasfullofguests。
Pierredidnotbestowagreetingonhiswife，whomhehadnotseensincehisreturn（shewasmorehatefultohimthaneveratthatmoment）；hewalkedintothedrawing—room，andseeingAnatole，wentstraightuptohim。
“Ah，Pierre，”saidthecountess，goinguptoherhusband，“youdon’tknowwhataplightourpoorAnatoleisin…”Shestoppedshort，seeinginherhusband’sbowedhead，inhisglitteringeyes，inhisresolutetread，thatterriblelookofrageandpower，whichsheknewandhadexperiencedinherowncaseaftertheduelwithDolohov。
“Whereveryouare，thereisviceandwickedness，”saidPierretohiswife。“Anatole，comealong，Iwantawordwithyou，”hesaidinFrench。Anatolelookedroundathissister，andgotupobediently，preparedtofollowPierre。
Pierretookhimbythearm，drewhimtohim，andwalkedoutoftheroom。
“Ifyouallowyourselfinmydrawing—room…”Ellenwhispered；butPierrewalkedoutoftheroom，withoutansweringher。
Anatolefollowedhim，withhisusualjauntyswagger。Buthisfacebetrayeduneasiness。Goingintohisownroom，Pierreshutthedoor，andaddressedAnatolewithoutlookingathim。“DidyoupromiseCountessRostovtomarryher？Didyoutrytoelopewithher？”
“Mydearfellow，”answeredAnatole，inFrench（aswasthewholeconversation），“Idon’tconsidermyselfboundtoanswerquestionsputtomeinthattone。”
Pierre’sface，whichhadbeenpalebefore，wasdistortedbyfury。WithhisbighandheclutchedAnatolebythecollarofhisuniform，andproceededtoshakehimfromsidetoside，tillAnatole’sfaceshowedasufficientdegreeofterror。
“WhenIsayIwantawordwithyou…”Pierrerepeated。
“Well，what？thisisstupid。Eh？”saidAnatole，feelingabuttonofhiscollarthathadbeentornoffwiththecloth。
“You’reascoundrelandablackguard；andIdon’tknowwhatpreventsmefrompermittingmyselfthepleasureofbrainingyouwiththis，see，”saidPierre，expressinghimselfsoartificially，becausehewasspeakingFrench。Hetookupaheavypaper—weight，andlifteditinamenacingway，butatoncehurriedlyputitdowninitsplace。
“Didyoupromisetomarryher？”
“I，I，…I…didn’tthink…Ineverpromised，though，because…”
Pierreinterruptedhim。
“Haveyouanyofherletters？Haveyouanyletters？”Pierrerepeated，advancinguponAnatole。Anatoleglancedathim，andatoncethrusthishandinhispocket，andtookoutapocket—book。
Pierretooktheletterhegavehim，andpushingawayatablethatstoodintheway，heplumpeddownonthesofa。
“Iwon’tbeviolent，don’tbeafraid，”saidPierre，inresponsetoagestureofalarmfromAnatole。“Letters—one，”saidPierre，asthoughrepeatingalessontohimself。“Two”—afteramoment’ssilencehewenton，gettingupagainandbeginningtowalkabout—“to—morrowyouaretoleaveMoscow。”
“ButhowcanI…？”
“Three”—Pierrewenton，notheedinghim—“youarenevertosayawordofwhathaspassedbetweenyouandtheyoungcountess。ThatIknowIcan’tpreventyourdoing；butifyouhaveasparkofconscience…”Pierrewalkedseveraltimesupanddowntheroom。Anatolesatatthetable，scowlingandbitinghislips。
“Yousurelymustunderstandthat，apartfromyourownpleasure，there’sthehappiness，thepeaceofotherpeople；thatyouareruiningawholelife，simplybecauseyouwanttoamuseyourself。Amuseyourselfwithwomenlikemywife—withthemyou’rewithinyourrights，theyknowwhatitisyouwantofthem。Theyarearmedagainstyoubythesameexperienceofvice；buttopromiseagirltomarryher…todeceive，tosteal…Surelyyoumustseethatit’sasbaseasattackinganoldmanorachild！…”
PierrepausedandglancedatAnatole，morewithinquirynowthanwithwrath。
“Idon’tknowaboutthat。Eh？”saidAnatole，growingbolderasPierregainedcontroloverhisrage。“Idon’tknowaboutthat，andIdon’twantto，”hesaid，lookingawayfromPierre，andspeakingwithaslightquiverofhislowerjaw，“butyouhavesaidwordstome，baseandallthatsortofthing，whichasamanofhonourIcan’tallowanyonetodo。”
Pierrelookedathiminamazement，notabletounderstandwhatitwashewanted。
“Thoughithasbeenonlytête—à—tête，”Anatolewenton，“stillIcan’t…”
“What，doyouwantsatisfaction？”saidPierresarcastically。
“Atanyrateyoumighttakebackyourwords。Eh？Ifyouwantmetodoasyouwish。Eh！”
“I’lltakethemback，I’lltakethemback，”saidPierre，“andbegyoutoforgiveme。”Pierrecouldnothelpglancingattheloosebutton。“Andhere’smoneytoo，ifyouwantsomeforyourjourney。”
Anatolesmiled。
Theexpressionofthatbaseandcringingsmile，thatheknewsowellinhiswife，infuriatedPierre。“Oh，youvile，heartlesstribe！”hecried，andwalkedoutoftheroom。
NextdayAnatoleleftforPetersburg。
Chapter21
PIERREdrovetoMaryaDmitryevna’storeporttohertheexecutionofhercommands，astoKuragin’sbanishmentfromMoscow。Thewholehousewasinexcitementandalarm。Natashawasveryill；andasMaryaDmitryevnatoldhiminsecret，shehadonthenightaftershehadbeentoldAnatolewasmarried，takenarsenic，whichshehadprocuredbystealth。Afterswallowingalittle，shehadbeensofrightenedthatshewakedSonya，andtoldherwhatshehaddone。Antidoteshadbeengivenintime，andnowshewasoutofdanger；butshewasstillsoweak，thattheycouldnotdreamofmovinghertothecountry，andthecountesshadbeensentfor。Pierresawthecountingreattrouble，andSonyaintears，buthecouldnotseeNatasha。
ThatdayPierredinedattheclub，andheardoneverysidegossipabouttheattemptedabductionoftheyoungCountessRostov，andpersistentlydeniedthestory，assuringeveryonethattheonlyfoundationforitwasthathisbrother—in—lawhadmadetheyoungladyanofferandhadbeenrefused。ItseemedtoPierrethatitwaspartofhisdutytoconcealthewholeaffair，andtosavetheyoungcountess’sreputation。
HewaslookingforwardwithterrortoPrinceAndrey’sreturn，anddroveroundeverydaytoaskfornewsofhimfromtheoldprince。
PrinceNikolayAndreitchheardalltherumourscurrentinthetownthroughMademoiselleBourienne；andhehadreadthenotetoPrincessMarya，inwhichNatashahadbrokenoffherengagement。Heseemedinbetterspiritsthanusual，andlookedforwardwithimpatiencetoseeinghisson。
AfewdaysafterAnatole’sdeparture，PierrereceivedanotefromPrinceAndreytoinformhimthathehadarrived，andtobeghimtogoandseehim。
ThefirstminuteofPrinceAndrey’sarrivalinMoscow，hewashandedbyhisfatherNatasha’snotetoPrincessMarya，inwhichshebrokeoffherengagement（thenotehadbeenstolenfromPrincessMarya，andgiventotheoldprincebyMademoiselleBourienne）。Heheardfromhisfather’slipsthestoryofNatasha’selopement，withadditions。
PrinceAndreyhadarrivedintheevening；Pierrecametoseehimthefollowingmorning。PierrehadexpectedtofindPrinceAndreyalmostinthesamestateasNatasha，andhewasthereforesurprisedwhenasheenteredthedrawing—roomheheardthesoundofPrinceAndrey’svoiceinthestudy，loudlyandeagerlydiscussingsomePetersburgintrigue。Theoldprinceandsomeothervoiceinterruptedhimfromtimetotime。PrincessMaryacameouttomeetPierre。Shesighed，turninghereyestowardsthedooroftheroom，wherePrinceAndreywas，plainlyintendingtoexpresshersympathywithhissorrow；butPierresawbyPrincessMarya’sfacethatshewasgladbothatwhathadhappenedandatthewayherbrotherhadtakenthenewsofhisfiancée’streachery。
“Hesaidhehadexpectedit，”shesaid。“Iknowhispridewillnotallowhimtoexpresshisfeelings；butanyway，hehasborneitbetter，farbetter，thanIhadexpected。Itseemsitwastobeso…”
“Butisitallreallyatanend？”saidPierre。
PrincessMaryalookedathimwithsurprise。Shecouldnotunderstandhowonecouldasksuchaquestion。Pierrewentintothestudy。PrinceAndreywasverymuchchanged，andvisiblymuchmorerobust，buttherewasanewhorizontallinebetweenhisbrows。Hewasinciviliandress，andstandingfacinghisfatherandPrinceMeshtchersky，hewashotlyarguing，makingvigorousgesticulations。
ThesubjectwasSperansky，ofwhosesuddendismissalandsupposedtreasonnewshadjustreachedMoscow。
“Nowhe”（Speransky）“willbecriticisedandcondemnedbyallwhowereenthusiasticabouthimamonthago，”PrinceAndreywassaying，“andwereincapableofunderstandinghisaims。It’sveryeasytocondemnamanwhenhe’soutoffavour，andtothrowuponhimtheblameofallthemistakesofotherpeople。ButImaintainthatifanythingofvaluehasbeendoneinthepresentreign，ithasbeendonebyhim—byhimalone…”Hestopped，seeingPierre。Hisfacequivered，andatonceassumedavindictiveexpression。“Andposteritywilldohimjustice，”hefinished，andatonceturnedtoPierre。“Well，howareyou，stillgettingstouter？”hesaideagerly，butthenewlinewasstillmoredeeplyfurrowedonhisforehead。“Yes，I’mverywell，”heansweredtoPierre’squestion，andhesmiled。ItwascleartoPierrethathissmilemeant，“Iamwell，butmyhealthisofnousetoanyonenow。”
AftersayingafewwordstoPierreoftheawfulroadfromthefrontiersofPoland，ofpeoplehehadmetinSwitzerlandwhoknewPierre，andofM。Dessalle，whomhehadbroughtbackfromSwitzerlandasatutorforhisson，PrinceAndreywarmlytookpartagainintheconversationaboutSperansky，whichhadbeenkeptupbetweenthetwooldgentlemen。
“Iftherehadbeentreason，andtherewereproofsofhissecretrelationswithNapoleon，theywouldhavemadethempublic，”hesaid，withheatandhaste。“Idon’tandIdidn’tlikeSperanskypersonally，butIdolikejustice。”
Pierrerecognizednowinhisfriendthatdesireheknewonlytoowell，forexcitementanddiscussionofsomethingapartfromhimself，simplyinordertostiflethoughtsthatweretoopainfulandtoonearhisheart。
WhenPrinceMeshtcherskyhadgone，PrinceAndreytookPierre’sarm，andaskedhimtocometotheroomthathadbeenassignedhim。Inthatroomtherewasafoldingbedsteadandopentrunksandboxes。PrinceAndreywentuptooneofthemandtookoutacase。Outofthecasehetookapacketofletters。Hedidallthisinsilence，andveryrapidly。Hestoodupagainandclearedhisthroat。Hisfacewasfrowning，andhislipsset。
“Forgiveme，ifI’mtroublingyou…”PierresawthatPrinceAndreywasgoingtospeakofNatasha，andhisbroadfaceshowedsympathyandpity。ThatexpressioninPierre’sfaceexasperatedPrinceAndrey。Hewentonresolutely，clearly，anddisagreeably:“IhavereceivedarefusalfromCountessRostov，andrumourshavereachedmeofyourbrother—in—law’sseekingherhand，orsomethingofthekind。Isthattrue？”
“Bothtrueanduntrue，”beganPierre；butPrinceAndreycuthimshort。
“Hereareherlettersandherportrait，”hesaid。HetookthepacketfromthetableandgaveittoPierre。
“Givethattothecountess…ifyouwillseeher。”
“Sheisveryill，”saidPierre。
“Soshe’sstillhere？”saidPrinceAndrey。“AndPrinceKuragin？”heaskedquickly。
“Hehasbeengonealongwhile。Shehasbeenatdeath’sdoor。”
“Iamverysorrytohearofherillness，”saidPrinceAndrey。Helaughedacold，malignant，unpleasantlaughlikehisfather’s。
“ButM。Kuragin，then，didnotdeigntobestowhishandonCountessRostov？”saidPrinceAndrey。Hesnortedseveraltimes。
“Hecouldnothavemarriedher，becauseheismarried，”saidPierre。
PrinceAndreylaughedunpleasantly，againrecallinghisfather。
“Andwhereishenow，yourbrother—in—law，mayIask？”hesaid。
“HewenttoPeter…but，really，Idon’tknow，”saidPierre。
“Well，that’snomatter，”saidPrinceAndrey。“TellCountessRostovfrommethatshewasandisperfectlyfree，andthatIwishherallprosperity。”
Pierretookthepacket。PrinceAndrey，asthoughreflectingwhetherhehadnotsomethingmoretosay，orwaitingforPierretosaysomething，lookedathimwithafixedgaze。
“Listen。DoyourememberourdiscussioninPetersburg？”saidPierre。“Doyourememberabout—？”
“Iremember，”PrinceAndreyansweredhurriedly。“Isaidthatafallenwomanshouldbeforgiven，butIdidnotsayIcouldforgiveone。Ican’t。”
“Howcanyoucompareit？…”saidPierre。
PrinceAndreycuthimshort。Hecriedharshly:“Yes，askherhandagain，bemagnanimous，andallthatsortofthing？…Oh，that’sallverynoble，butI’mnotequaltofollowinginthatgentleman’stracks。Ifyoucaretoremainmyfriend，neverspeaktomeofthat…ofallthisbusiness。Well，good—bye。Soyou’llgivethat？…”
Pierrelefthim，andwentintotheoldprinceandPrincessMarya。
Theoldmanseemedlivelierthanusual。PrincessMaryawasthesameasusual，butbehindhersympathyforherbrother，Pierredetectedherreliefthatherbrother’smarriagewasbrokenoff。Lookingatthem，PierrefeltwhatacontemptanddisliketheyallhadfortheRostovs；feltthatitwouldbeimpossibleintheirpresenceeventomentionthenameofthegirlwhocouldgiveupPrinceAndreyforanyoneintheworld。
Atdinnertheytalkedofthecomingwar，ofwhichtherecouldnowbenodoubtinthenearfuture。PrinceAndreytalkedincessantly，andarguedfirstwithhisfather，andthenwithDessalle，theSwisstutor。Heseemedmoreeagerthanusual，withthateagernessofwhichPierreknewsowelltheinnercause。
Chapter22
THATEVENINGPierrewenttotheRostovs’tofulfilPrinceAndrey’scommission。Natashawasinbed，thecountwasattheclub，andPierre，aftergivingtheletterstoSonya，wentintoseeMaryaDmitryevna，whowasinterestedtoknowhowPrinceAndreyhadtakenthenews。Tenminuteslater，SonyacameintoMaryaDmitryevna。
“NatashainsistsonseeingCountPyotrKirillitch，”shesaid。
“Why，arewetotakehimuptoher，eh？Why，youareallinamuddlethere，”saidMaryaDmitryevna。
“No，shehasdressedandgoneintothedrawing—room，”saidSonya。
MaryaDmitryevnacouldonlyshrughershoulders。“Whenwillthecountesscome？Shehasquitewornmeout！Youmindnow，don’ttellhereverything，”shesaidtoPierre。“Onehasn’tthehearttoscoldher，she’ssopiteous，poorthing。”
Natashawasstandinginthemiddleofthedrawing—room，lookingthinner，andwithapale，setface（notatallovercomewithshame，asPierrehadexpectedtoseeher）。WhenPierreappearedinthedoorway，shemadeahurriedmovement，evidentlyinuncertaintywhethertogotomeethim，ortowaitforhimtocometoher。
Pierrewenthurriedlytowardsher。Hethoughtshewouldgivehimherhandasusual。Butcomingnearhimshestopped，breathinghard，andlettingherhandshanglifelessly，exactlyinthesameposeinwhichsheusedtostandinthemiddleoftheroomtosing，butwithanutterlydifferentexpression。
“PyotrKirillitch，”shebegan，speakingquickly，“PrinceBolkonskywasyourfriend—heisyourfriend，”shecorrectedherself。（Itseemedtoherthateverythingwasinthepast，andnowallwaschanged。）“Hetoldmetoapplytoyou…”
Pierrechokeddumblyashelookedather。Tillthenhehadinhisheartblamedher，andtriedtodespiseher；butnowhefeltsosorryforher，thattherewasnoroominhisheartforblame。
“Heisherenow，tellhim…tofor…toforgiveme。”Shestoppedshortandbreathedevenmorequickly，butshedidnotweep。
“Yes…Iwilltellhim，”saidPierre；“but…”Hedidnotknowwhattosay。
NatashawasevidentlydismayedattheideathatmighthaveoccurredtoPierre。
“No，Iknowthateverythingisover，”shesaidhurriedly。“No，thatcanneverbe。I’monlywretchedatthewrongIhavedonehim。OnlytellhimthatIbeghimtoforgive，toforgive，forgivemeforeverything…”Herwholebodywasheaving；shesatdownonachair。
AfeelingofpityhehadneverknownbeforefloodedPierre’sheart。
“Iwilltellhim，Iwilltellhimeverythingoncemore，”saidPierre；“but…Ishouldliketoknowonething…”
“Toknowwhat？”Natasha’seyesasked。
“Ishouldliketoknow，didyoulove…”PierredidnotknowwhattocallAnatole，andflushedatthethoughtofhim—“didyoulovethatbadman？”
“Don’tcallhimbad，”saidNatasha。“ButIdon’t…know，Idon’tknow…”Shebegancryingagain，andPierrewasmorethaneveroverwhelmedwithpity，tenderness，andlove。Hefeltthetearstricklingunderhisspectacles，andhopedtheywouldnotbenoticed。
“Wewon’ttalkanymoreofit，mydear，”hesaid。ItseemedsuddenlysostrangetoNatashatohearthegentle，tender，sympatheticvoiceinwhichhespoke。“Wewon’ttalkofit，mydear，I’lltellhimeverything。ButonethingIbegyou，lookonmeasyourfriend；andifyouwanthelp，advice，orsimplywanttoopenyourhearttosomeone—notnow，butwhenthingsareclearerinyourheart—thinkofme。”Hetookherhandandkissedit。“Ishallbehappy，ifIamable…”Pierrewasconfused。
“Don’tspeaktomelikethat；I’mnotworthit！”criedNatasha，andshewouldhavelefttheroom，butPierreheldherhand。Heknewtherewassomethingmorehemustsaytoher。Butwhenhesaidit，hewassurprisedathisownwords。
“Hush，hush，yourwholelifeliesbeforeyou，”hesaidtoher。
“Beforeme！No！Allisoverforme，”shesaid，withshameandself—humiliation。
“Allover？”herepeated。“IfIwerenotmyself，butthehandsomest，cleverest，bestmanintheworld，andifIwerefreeIwouldbeonmykneesthisminutetobegforyourhandandyourlove。”
ForthefirsttimeformanydaysNatashaweptwithtearsofgratitudeandsoftenedfeeling，andglancingatPierre，shewentoutoftheroom。
Pierrefollowedher，almostrunningintothevestibule，andrestrainingthetearsoftendernessandhappinessthatmadealumpinhisthroat。Heflungonhisfurcoat，unabletofindthearmholes，andgotintohissledge。
“Nowwhere，yourexcellency？”askedthecoachman。
“Where？”Pierreaskedhimself。“WherecanIgonow？Nottotheclubortopaycalls。”Allmenseemedtohimsopitiful，sopoorincomparisonwiththefeelingoftendernessandloveinhisheart，incomparisonwiththatsoftened，gratefulglanceshehadturneduponhimthatlastminutethroughhertears。
“Home，”saidPierre，throwingopenthebearskincoatoverhisbroad，joyouslybreathingchestinspiteoftendegreesoffrost。
Itwasclearandfrosty。Overthedirty，half—darkstreets，overtheblackroofswasadark，starlitsky。ItwasonlylookingattheskythatPierreforgotthemortifyingmeannessofallthingsearthlyincomparisonwiththeheighthissoulhadrisento。AshedroveintoArbatskySquare，theimmenseexpanseofdark，starlitskylayopenbeforePierre’seyes。AlmostinthecentreofitabovethePrechistenskyBoulevard，surroundedonallsidesbystars，butdistinguishedfromallbyitsnearnesstotheearth，itswhitelightandlong，upturnedtail，shonethehuge，brilliantcometof1812；thecometwhichbetokened，itwassaid，allmannerofhorrorsandtheendoftheworld。ButinPierre’sheartthatbrightcomet，withitslong，luminoustail，arousednofeelingofdread。Onthecontrary，hiseyeswetwithtears，Pierrelookedjoyouslyatthisbrightcomet，whichseemedasthoughafterflyingwithinconceivableswiftnessthroughinfinitespaceinaparabola，ithadsuddenly，likeanarrowpiercingtheearth，stuckfastatonechosenspotintheblacksky，andstayedthere，vigorouslytossingupitstail，shiningandplayingwithitswhitelightamongthecountlessothertwinklingstars。ItseemedtoPierrethatitwasinfullharmonywithwhatwasinhissoftenedandemboldenedheart，thathadgainedvigourtoblossomintoanewlife。
PartNine
Chapter1
TOWARDSTHEENDoftheyear1811，therebegantobegreateractivityinlevyingtroopsandinconcentratingtheforcesofWesternEurope，andin1812theseforces—millionsofmen，reckoningthoseengagedinthetransportandfeedingofthearmy—movedfromthewesteastward，towardsthefrontiersofRussia，where，since1811，theRussianforceswerebeinginlikemannerconcentrated。
Onthe12thofJunetheforcesofWesternEuropecrossedthefrontier，andthewarbegan，thatis，aneventtookplaceopposedtohumanreasonandallhumannature。Millionsofmenperpetratedagainstoneanothersogreatamassofcrime—fraud，swindling，robbery，forgery，issueofcounterfeitmoney，plunder，incendiarism，andmurder—thattheannalsofallthecriminalcourtsoftheworldcouldnotmustersuchasumofwickednessinwholecenturies，thoughthemenwhocommittedthosedeedsdidnotatthattimelookonthemascrimes。
Whatledtothisextraordinaryevent？Whatwereitscauses？Historians，withsimple—heartedconviction，tellusthatthecausesofthiseventweretheinsultofferedtotheDukeofOldenburg，thefailuretomaintainthecontinentalsystem，theambitionofNapoleon，thefirmnessofAlexander，themistakesofthediplomatists，andsoon。
Accordingtothem，ifonlyMetternich，Rumyantsev，orTalleyrandhad，intheintervalbetweenalevéeandacourtball，reallytakenpainsandwrittenamorejudiciousdiplomaticnote，orifonlyNapoleonhadwrittentoAlexander，“IconsenttorestoretheduchytotheDukeofOldenburg，”therewouldhavebeennowar。
Wecanreadilyunderstandthatbeingtheconceptionofthewarthatpresenteditselftocontemporaries。WecanunderstandNapoleon’ssupposingthecauseofthewartobetheintriguesofEngland（ashesaid，indeed，inSt。Helena）；wecanunderstandhowtothemembersoftheEnglishHouseofCommonsthecauseofthewarseemedtobeNapoleon’sambition；howtotheDukeofOldenburgthewarseemedduetotheoutragedonehim；howtothetradingclassthewarseemedduetothecontinentalsystemthatwasruiningEurope；totheoldsoldiersandgeneralsthechiefreasonforitseemedtheirneedofactiveservice；totheregimentsoftheperiod，thenecessityofre—establishinglesbonsprincipes；whilethediplomatistsofthetimesetitdowntotheallianceofRussiawithAustriain1809nothavingbeenwithsufficientcareconcealedfromNapoleon，andthememorandum，No。178，havingbeenawkwardlyworded。Wemaywellunderstandcontemporariesbelievinginthosecauses，andinacountless，endlessnumbermore，themultiplicityofwhichisduetotheinfinitevarietyofmen’spointsofview。Buttousofalatergeneration，contemplatinginallitsvastnesstheimmensityoftheaccomplishedfact，andseekingtopenetrateitssimpleandfearfulsignificance，thoseexplanationsmustappearinsufficient。TousitisinconceivablethatmillionsofChristianmenshouldhavekilledandtorturedeachother，becauseNapoleonwasambitious，Alexanderfirm，Englishpolicycrafty，andtheDukeofOldenburghardlytreated。Wecannotgrasptheconnectionbetweenthesecircumstancesandthebarefactofmurderandviolence，norwhytheduke’swrongsshouldinducethousandsofmenfromtheothersideofEuropetopillageandmurdertheinhabitantsoftheSmolenskandMoscowprovincesandtobeslaughteredbythem。
Forusofalatergeneration，whoarenothistoriansledawaybytheprocessofresearch，andsocanlookatthefactswithcommon—senseunobscured，thecausesofthiswarappearinnumerableintheirmultiplicity。Themoredeeplywesearchoutthecausesthemoreofthemwediscover；andeverycause，andevenawholeclassofcausestakenseparately，strikesusasbeingequallytrueinitself，andequallydeceptivethroughitsinsignificanceincomparisonwiththeimmensityoftheresult，anditsinabilitytoproduce（withoutalltheothercausesthatconcurredwithit）theeffectthatfollowed。Suchacause，forinstance，occurstousasNapoleon’srefusaltowithdrawhistroopsbeyondtheVistula，andtorestoretheduchyofOldenburg；andthenagainwerememberthereadinessorthereluctanceofthefirstchanceFrenchcorporaltoserveonasecondcampaign；forhadhebeenunwillingtoserve，andasecondandathird，andthousandsofcorporalsandsoldiershadsharedthatreluctance，Napoleon’sarmywouldhavebeenshortofsomanymen，andthewarcouldnothavetakenplace。
IfNapoleonhadnottakenoffenceattherequesttowithdrawbeyondtheVistula，andhadnotcommandedhistroopstoadvance，therewouldhavebeennowar。Butifallthesergeantshadbeenunwillingtoserveonanothercampaign，therecouldhavebeennowareither。
AndthewarwouldnothavebeenhadtherebeennointriguesonthepartofEngland，noDukeofOldenburg，noresentmentonthepartofAlexander；norhadtherebeennoautocracyinRussia，noFrenchRevolutionandconsequentdictatorshipandempire，norallthatledtotheFrenchRevolution，andsoonfurtherback:withoutanyoneofthosecauses，nothingcouldhavehappened。Andsoallthosecauses—myriadsofcauses—coincidedtobringaboutwhathappened。Andconsequentlynothingwasexclusivelythecauseofthewar，andthewarwasboundtohappen，simplybecauseitwasboundtohappen。Millionsofmen，repudiatingtheircommon—senseandtheirhumanfeelings，wereboundtomovefromwesttoeast，andtoslaughtertheirfellows，justassomecenturiesbeforehordesofmenhadmovedfromeasttowesttoslaughtertheirfellows。
TheactsofNapoleonandAlexander，onwhosewordsitseemedtodependwhetherthisshouldbedoneornot，wereaslittlevoluntaryastheactofeachsoldier，forcedtomarchoutbythedrawingofalotorbyconscription。Thiscouldnotbeotherwise，forinorderthatthewillofNapoleonandAlexander（onwhomthewholedecisionappearedtorest）shouldbeeffective，acombinationofinnumerablecircumstanceswasessential，withoutanyoneofwhichtheeffectcouldnothavefollowed。Itwasessentialthatthemillionsofmeninwhosehandstherealpowerlay—thesoldierswhofiredgunsandtransportedprovisionsandcannons—shouldconsenttocarryoutthewillofthosefeebleandisolatedpersons，andthattheyshouldhavebeenbroughttothisacquiescencebyaninfinitenumberofvariedandcomplicatedcauses。
Weareforcedtofallbackuponfatalisminhistorytoexplainirrationalevents（thatisthoseofwhichwecannotcomprehendthereason）。Themorewetrytoexplainthoseeventsinhistoryrationally，themoreirrationalandincomprehensibletheyseemtous。Everymanlivesforhimself，makinguseofhisfree—willforattainmentofhisownobjects，andfeelsinhiswholebeingthathecandoornotdoanyaction。Butassoonashedoesanything，thatact，committedatacertainmomentintime，becomesirrevocableandisthepropertyofhistory，inwhichithasasignificance，predestinedandnotsubjecttofreechoice。
Therearetwoaspectstothelifeofeveryman:thepersonallife，whichisfreeinproportionasitsinterestsareabstract，andtheelementallifeoftheswarm，inwhichamanmustinevitablyfollowthelawslaiddownforhim。
Consciouslyamanlivesonhisownaccountinfreedomofwill，butheservesasanunconsciousinstrumentinbringingaboutthehistoricalendsofhumanity。Anacthehasoncecommittedisirrevocable，andthatactofhis，coincidingintimewithmillionsofactsofothers，hasanhistoricalvalue。Thehigheraman’splaceinthesocialscale，themoreconnectionshehaswithothers，andthemorepowerhehasoverthem，themoreconspicuousistheinevitabilityandpredestinationofeveryacthecommits。“TheheartsofkingsareinthehandofGod。”Thekingistheslaveofhistory。
History—thatistheunconsciouslifeofhumanityintheswarm，inthecommunity—makeseveryminuteofthelifeofkingsitsown，asaninstrumentforattainingitsends。
Althoughinthatyear，1812，Napoleonbelievedmorethaneverthattoshedornottoshedthebloodofhispeoplesdependedentirelyonhiswill（asAlexandersaidinhislastlettertohim），yetthen，andmorethanatanytime，hewasinbondagetothoselawswhichforcedhim，whiletohimselfheseemedtobeactingfreely，todowhatwasboundtobehisshareinthecommonedificeofhumanity，inhistory。
Thepeopleofthewestmovedtotheeastformentokilloneanother。Andbythelawofthecoincidenceofcauses，thousandsofpettycausesbackedoneanotherupandcoincidedwiththateventtobringaboutthatmovementandthatwar:resentmentatthenon—observanceofthecontinentalsystem，andtheDukeofOldenburg，andthemassingoftroopsinPrussia—ameasureundertaken，asNapoleonsupposed，withtheobjectofsecuringarmedpeace—andtheFrenchEmperor’sloveofwar，towhichhehadgrownaccustomed，inconjunctionwiththeinclinationsofhispeople，whowerecarriedawaybythegrandiosescaleofthepreparations，andtheexpenditureonthosepreparations，andthenecessityofrecoupingthatexpenditure。ThentherewastheintoxicatingeffectofthehonourspaidtotheFrenchEmperorinDresden，andthenegotiationstooofthediplomatists，whoweresupposedbycontemporariestobeguidedbyagenuinedesiretosecurepeace，thoughtheyonlyinflamedtheamour—propreofbothsides；andmillionsuponmillionsofothercauses，chiminginwiththefatedeventandcoincidentwithit。
Whentheappleisripeandfalls—whydoesitfall？Isitbecauseitisdrawnbygravitationtotheearth，becauseitsstalkiswithered，becauseitisdriedbythesun，becauseitgrowsheavier，becausethewindshakesit，orbecausetheboystandingunderthetreewantstoeatit？
Notoneofthoseisthecause。Allthatsimplymakesuptheconjunctionofconditionsunderwhicheveryliving，organic，elementaleventtakesplace。Andthebotanistwhosaysthattheapplehasfallenbecausethecellsaredecomposing，andsoon，willbejustasrightastheboystandingunderthetreewhosaystheapplehasfallenbecausehewantedtoeatitandprayedforittofall。Thehistorian，whosaysthatNapoleonwenttoMoscowbecausehewantedto，andwasruinedbecauseAlexanderdesiredhisruin，willbejustasrightandaswrongasthemanwhosaysthatthemountainofmillionsoftons，totteringandundermined，hasbeenfelledbythelaststrokeofthelastworkingman’spick—axe。Inhistoricaleventsgreatmen—socalled—arebutthelabelsthatservetogiveanametoanevent，andlikelabels，theyhavetheleastpossibleconnectionwiththeeventitself。