Book Fifteen: 1812-13 - Chapter XVII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining room; a fewminutes later he heard footsteps and Princess Mary entered withNatasha. Natasha was calm, though a severe and grave expression hadagain settled on her face. They all three of them now experienced thatfeeling of awkwardness which usually follows after a serious andheartfelt talk. It is impossible to go back to the sameconversation, to talk of trifles is awkward, and yet the desire tospeak is there and silence seems like affectation. They wentsilently to table. The footmen drew back the chairs and pushed them upagain. Pierre unfolded his cold table napkin and, resolving to breakthe silence, looked at Natasha and at Princess Mary. They hadevidently both formed the same resolution; the eyes of both shone withsatisfaction and a confession that besides sorrow life also has joy.

　　"Do you take vodka, Count?" asked Princess Mary, and those wordssuddenly banished the shadows of the past. "Now tell us aboutyourself," said she. "One hears such improbable wonders about you."

　　"Yes," replied Pierre with the smile of mild irony now habitual tohim. "They even tell me wonders I myself never dreamed of! MaryAbramovna invited me to her house and kept telling me what hadhappened, or ought to have happened, to me. Stepan Stepanych alsoinstructed me how I ought to tell of my experiences. In general I havenoticed that it is very easy to be an interesting man (I am aninteresting man now); people invite me out and tell me all aboutmyself."

　　Natasha smiled and was on the point of speaking.

　　"We have been told," Princess Mary interrupted her, "that you losttwo millions in Moscow. Is that true?"

　　"But I am three times as rich as before," returned Pierre.

　　Though the position was now altered by his decision to pay hiswife's debts and to rebuild his houses, Pierre still maintained thathe had become three times as rich as before.

　　"What I have certainly gained is freedom," he began seriously, butdid not continue, noticing that this theme was too egotistic.

　　"And are you building?"

　　"Yes. Savelich says I must!"

　　"Tell me, you did not know of the countess' death when you decidedto remain in Moscow?" asked Princess Mary and immediately blushed,noticing that her question, following his mention of freedom, ascribedto his words a meaning he had perhaps not intended.

　　"No," answered Pierre, evidently not considering awkward the meaningPrincess Mary had given to his words. "I heard of it in Orel and youcannot imagine how it shocked me. We were not an exemplary couple," headded quickly, glancing at Natasha and noticing on her facecuriosity as to how he would speak of his wife, "but her death shockedme terribly. When two people quarrel they are always both in fault,and one's own guilt suddenly becomes terribly serious when the otheris no longer alive. And then such a death... without friends andwithout consolation! I am very, very sorry for her," he concluded, andwas pleased to notice a look of glad approval on Natasha's face.

　　"Yes, and so you are once more an eligible bachelor," saidPrincess Mary.

　　Pierre suddenly flushed crimson and for a long time tried not tolook at Natasha. When he ventured to glance her way again her face wascold, stern, and he fancied even contemptuous.

　　"And did you really see and speak to Napoleon, as we have beentold?" said Princess Mary.

　　Pierre laughed.

　　"No, not once! Everybody seems to imagine that being takenprisoner means being Napoleon's guest. Not only did I never see himbut I heard nothing about him- I was in much lower company!"

　　Supper was over, and Pierre who at first declined to speak about hiscaptivity was gradually led on to do so.

　　"But it's true that you remained in Moscow to kill Napoleon?"Natasha asked with a slight smile. "I guessed it then when we met atthe Sukharev tower, do you remember?"

　　Pierre admitted that it was true, and from that was gradually led byPrincess Mary's questions and especially by Natasha's into giving adetailed account of his adventures.

　　At first he spoke with the amused and mild irony now customarywith him toward everybody and especially toward himself, but when hecame to describe the horrors and sufferings he had witnessed he wasunconsciously carried away and began speaking with the suppressedemotion of a man re-experiencing in recollection strong impressions hehas lived through.

　　Princess Mary with a gentle smile looked now at Pierre and now atNatasha. In the whole narrative she saw only Pierre and hisgoodness. Natasha, leaning on her elbow, the expression of her faceconstantly changing with the narrative, watched Pierre with anattention that never wandered- evidently herself experiencing all thathe described. Not only her look, but her exclamations and the briefquestions she put, showed Pierre that she understood just what hewished to convey. It was clear that she understood not only what hesaid but also what he wished to, but could not, express in words.The account Pierre gave of the incident with the child and the womanfor protecting whom he was arrested was this: "It was an awfulsight- children abandoned, some in the flames... One was snatchedout before my eyes... and there were women who had their thingssnatched off and their earrings torn out..." he flushed and grewconfused. "Then a patrol arrived and all the men- all those who werenot looting, that is- were arrested, and I among them."

　　"I am sure you're not telling us everything; I am sure you didsomething..." said Natasha and pausing added, "something fine?"

　　Pierre continued. When he spoke of the execution he wanted to passover the horrible details, but Natasha insisted that he should notomit anything.

　　Pierre began to tell about Karataev, but paused. By this time he hadrisen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following himwith her eyes. Then he added:

　　"No, you can't understand what I learned from that illiterate man-that simple fellow."

　　"Yes, yes, go on!" said Natasha. "Where is he?"

　　"They killed him almost before my eyes."

　　And Pierre, his voice trembling continually, went on to tell ofthe last days of their retreat, of Karataev's illness and his death.

　　He told of his adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now,as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now thathe was telling it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure whicha man has when women listen to him- not clever women who whenlistening either try to remember what they hear to enrich theirminds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adoptit to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their ownclever comments prepared in their little mental workshop- but thepleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select andabsorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowingit was all attention: she did not lose a word, no single quiver inPierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor asingle gesture. She caught the unfinished word in its flight andtook it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning ofall Pierre's mental travail.

　　Princess Mary understood his story and sympathized with him, but shenow saw something else that absorbed all her attention. She saw thepossibility of love and happiness between Natasha and Pierre, andthe first thought of this filled her heart with gladness.

　　It was three o'clock in the morning. The footmen came in with sadand stern faces to change the candles, but no one noticed them.

　　Pierre finished his story. Natasha continued to look at him intentlywith bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying tounderstand something more which he had perhaps left untold. Pierrein shamefaced and happy confusion glanced occasionally at her, andtried to think what to say next to introduce a fresh subject. PrincessMary was silent. It occurred to none of them that it was three o'clockand time to go to bed.

　　"People speak of misfortunes and sufferings," remarked Pierre,"but if at this moment I were asked: 'Would you rather be what youwere before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again?'then for heaven's sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh!We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all islost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. Whilethere is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. I saythis to you," he added, turning to Natasha.

　　"Yes, yes," she said, answering something quite different. "I tooshould wish nothing but to relive it all from the beginning."

　　Pierre looked intently at her.

　　"Yes, and nothing more." said Natasha.

　　"It's not true, not true!" cried Pierre. "I am not to blame forbeing alive and wishing to live- nor you either."

　　Suddenly Natasha bent her head, covered her face with her hands, andbegan to cry.

　　"What is it, Natasha?" said Princess Mary.

　　"Nothing, nothing." She smiled at Pierre through her tears. "Goodnight! It is time for bed."

　　Pierre rose and took his leave.

　　Princess Mary and Natasha met as usual in the bedroom. They talkedof what Pierre had told them. Princess Mary did not express heropinion of Pierre nor did Natasha speak of him.

　　"Well, good night, Mary!" said Natasha. "Do you know, I am oftenafraid that by not speaking of him" (she meant Prince Andrew) "forfear of not doing justice to our feelings, we forget him."

　　Princess Mary sighed deeply and thereby acknowledged the justiceof Natasha's remark, but she did not express agreement in words.

　　"Is it possible to forget?" said she.

　　"It did me so much good to tell all about it today. It was hardand painful, but good, very good!" said Natasha. "I am sure hereally loved him. That is why I told him... Was it all right?" sheadded, suddenly blushing.

　　"To tell Pierre? Oh, yes. What a splendid man he is!" saidPrincess Mary.

　　"Do you know, Mary..." Natasha suddenly said with a mischievoussmile such as Princess Mary had not seen on her face for a longtime, "he has somehow grown so clean, smooth, and fresh- as if hehad just come out of a Russian bath; do you understand? Out of a moralbath. Isn't it true?"

　　"Yes," replied Princess Mary. "He has greatly improved."

　　"With a short coat and his hair cropped; just as if, well, just asif he had come straight from the bath... Papa used to..."

　　"I understand why he" (Prince Andrew) "liked no one so much as him,"said Princess Mary.

　　"Yes, and yet he is quite different. They say men are friends whenthey are quite different. That must be true. Really he is quite unlikehim- in everything."

　　"Yes, but he's wonderful."

　　"Well, good night," said Natasha.

　　And the same mischievous smile lingered for a long time on herface as if it had been forgotten there.