Book Fifteen: 1812-13 - Chapter XVIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　It was a long time before Pierre could fall asleep that night. Hepaced up and down his room, now turning his thoughts on a difficultproblem and frowning, now suddenly shrugging his shoulders andwincing, and now smiling happily.

　　He was thinking of Prince Andrew, of Natasha, and of their love,at one moment jealous of her past, then reproaching himself for thatfeeling. It was already six in the morning and he still paced up anddown the room.

　　"Well, what's to be done if it cannot be avoided? What's to be done?Evidently it has to be so," said he to himself, and hastily undressinghe got into bed, happy and agitated but free from hesitation orindecision.

　　"Strange and impossible as such happiness seems, I must doeverything that she and I may be man and wife," he told himself.

　　A few days previously Pierre had decided to go to Petersburg onthe Friday. When he awoke on the Thursday, Savelich came to ask himabout packing for the journey.

　　"What, to Petersburg? What is Petersburg? Who is there inPetersburg?" he asked involuntarily, though only to himself. "Oh, yes,long ago before this happened I did for some reason mean to go toPetersburg," he reflected. "Why? But perhaps I shall go. What a goodfellow he is and how attentive, and how he remembers everything," hethought, looking at Savelich's old face, "and what a pleasant smile hehas!"

　　"Well, Savelich, do you still not wish to accept your freedom?"Pierre asked him.

　　"What's the good of freedom to me, your excellency? We lived underthe late count- the kingdom of heaven be his!- and we have lived underyou too, without ever being wronged."

　　"And your children?"

　　"The children will live just the same. With such masters one canlive."

　　"But what about my heirs?" said Pierre. "Supposing I suddenlymarry... it might happen," he added with an involuntary smile.

　　"If I may take the liberty, your excellency, it would be a goodthing."

　　"How easy he thinks it," thought Pierre. "He doesn't know howterrible it is and how dangerous. Too soon or too late... it isterrible!"

　　"So what are your orders? Are you starting tomorrow?" askedSavelich.

　　"No, I'll put it off for a bit. I'll tell you later. You mustforgive the trouble I have put you to," said Pierre, and seeingSavelich smile, he thought: "But how strange it is that he shouldnot know that now there is no Petersburg for me, and that that must besettled first of all! But probably he knows it well enough and is onlypretending. Shall I have a talk with him and see what he thinks?"Pierre reflected. "No, another time."

　　At breakfast Pierre told the princess, his cousin, that he hadbeen to see Princess Mary the day before and had there met- "Whom doyou think? Natasha Rostova!"

　　The princess seemed to see nothing more extraordinary in that thanif he had seen Anna Semenovna.

　　"Do you know her?" asked Pierre.

　　"I have seen the princess," she replied. "I heard that they werearranging a match for her with young Rostov. It would be a very goodthing for the Rostovs, they are said to be utterly ruined."

　　"No; I mean do you know Natasha Rostova?"

　　"I heard about that affair of hers at the time. It was a greatpity."

　　"No, she either doesn't understand or is pretending," thoughtPierre. "Better not say anything to her either."

　　The princess too had prepared provisions for Pierre's journey.

　　"How kind they all are," thought Pierre. "What is surprising is thatthey should trouble about these things now when it can no longer be ofinterest to them. And all for me!"

　　On the same day the Chief of Police came to Pierre, inviting himto send a representative to the Faceted Palace to recover thingsthat were to be returned to their owners that day.

　　"And this man too," thought Pierre, looking into the face of theChief of Police. "What a fine, good-looking officer and how kind.Fancy bothering about such trifies now! And they actually say he isnot honest and takes bribes. What nonsense! Besides, why shouldn'the take bribes? That's the way he was brought up, and everybody doesit. But what a kind, pleasant face and how he smiles as he looks atme."

　　Pierre went to Princess Mary's to dinner.

　　As he drove through the streets past the houses that had been burneddown, he was surprised by the beauty of those ruins. Thepicturesqueness of the chimney stacks and tumble-down walls of theburned-out quarters of the town, stretching out and concealing oneanother, reminded him of the Rhine and the Colosseum. The cabmen hemet and their passengers, the carpenters cutting the timber for newhouses with axes, the women hawkers, and the shopkeepers, all lookedat him with cheerful beaming eyes that seemed to say: "Ah, there heis! Let's see what will come of it!"

　　At the entrance to Princess Mary's house Pierre felt doubtfulwhether he had really been there the night before and really seenNatasha and talked to her. "Perhaps I imagined it; perhaps I shallgo in and find no one there." But he had hardly entered the roombefore he felt her presence with his whole being by the loss of hissense of freedom. She was in the same black dress with soft foldsand her hair was done the same way as the day before, yet she wasquite different. Had she been like this when he entered the day beforehe could not for a moment have failed to recognize her.

　　She was as he had known her almost as a child and later on as PrinceAndrew's fiancee. A bright questioning light shone in her eyes, and onher face was a friendly and strangely roguish expression.

　　Pierre dined with them and would have spent the whole evening there,but Princess Mary was going to vespers and Pierre left the housewith her.

　　Next day he came early, dined, and stayed the whole evening.Though Princess Mary and Natasha were evidently glad to see theirvisitor and though all Pierre's interest was now centered in thathouse, by the evening they had talked over everything and theconversation passed from one trivial topic to another and repeatedlybroke off. He stayed so long that Princess Mary and Natashaexchanged glances, evidently wondering when he would go. Pierrenoticed this but could not go. He felt uneasy and embarrassed, but saton because he simply could not get up and take his leave.

　　Princess Mary, foreseeing no end to this, rose first, andcomplaining of a headache began to say good night.

　　"So you are going to Petersburg tomorrow?" she asked.

　　"No, I am not going," Pierre replied hastily, in a surprised toneand as though offended. "Yes... no... to Petersburg? Tomorrow- but Iwon't say good-by yet. I will call round in case you have anycommissions for me," said he, standing before Princess Mary andturning red, but not taking his departure.

　　Natasha gave him her hand and went out. Princess Mary on the otherhand instead of going away sank into an armchair, and looked sternlyand intently at him with her deep, radiant eyes. The weariness she hadplainly shown before had now quite passed off. With a deep andlong-drawn sigh she seemed to be prepared for a lengthy talk.

　　When Natasha left the room Pierre's confusion and awkwardnessimmediately vanished and were replaced by eager excitement. He quicklymoved an armchair toward Princess Mary.

　　"Yes, I wanted to tell you," said he, answering her look as if shehad spoken. "Princess, help me! What am I to do? Can I hope? Princess,my dear friend, listen! I know it all. I know I am not worthy ofher, I know it's impossible to speak of it now. But I want to be abrother to her. No, not that, I don't, I can't..."

　　He paused and rubbed his face and eyes with his hands.

　　"Well," he went on with an evident effort at self-control andcoherence. "I don't know when I began to love her, but I have lovedher and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imaginelife without her. I cannot propose to her at present, but thethought that perhaps she might someday be my wife and that I may bemissing that possibility... that possibility... is terrible. Tellme, can I hope? Tell me what I am to do, dear princess!" he addedafter a pause, and touched her hand as she did not reply.

　　"I am thinking of what you have told me," answered Princess Mary."This is what I will say. You are right that to speak to her of loveat present..."

　　Princess Mary stopped. She was going to say that to speak of lovewas impossible, but she stopped because she had seen by the suddenchange in Natasha two days before that she would not only not behurt if Pierre spoke of his love, but that it was the very thing shewished for.

　　"To speak to her now wouldn't do," said the princess all the same.

　　"But what am I to do?

　　"Leave it to me," said Princess Mary. "I know..."

　　Pierre was looking into Princess Mary's eyes.

　　"Well?... Well?..." he said.

　　"I know that she loves... will love you," Princess Mary correctedherself.

　　Before her words were out, Pierre had sprung up and with afrightened expression seized Princess Mary's hand.

　　"What makes you think so? You think I may hope? You think...?"

　　"Yes, I think so," said Princess Mary with a smile. "Write to herparents, and leave it to me. I will tell her when I can. I wish itto happen and my heart tells me it will."

　　"No, it cannot be! How happy I am! But it can't be.... How happy Iam! No, it can't be!" Pierre kept saying as he kissed PrincessMary's hands.

　　"Go to Petersburg, that will be best. And I will write to you,"she said.

　　"To Petersburg? Go there? Very well, I'll go. But I may come againtomorrow?"

　　Next day Pierre came to say good-by. Natasha was less animatedthan she had been the day before; but that day as he looked at herPierre sometimes felt as if he was vanishing and that neither he norshe existed any longer, that nothing existed but happiness. "Is itpossible? No, it can't be," he told himself at every look, gesture,and word that filled his soul with joy.

　　When on saying good-by he took her thin, slender hand, he couldnot help holding it a little longer in his own.

　　"Is it possible that this hand, that face, those eyes, all thistreasure of feminine charm so strange to me now, is it possible thatit will one day be mine forever, as familiar to me as I am tomyself?... No, that's impossible!..."

　　"Good-by, Count," she said aloud. "I shall look forward very much toyour return," she added in a whisper.

　　And these simple words, her look, and the expression on her facewhich accompanied them, formed for two months the subject ofinexhaustible memories, interpretations, and happy meditations forPierre. "'I shall look forward very much to your return....' Yes, yes,how did she say it? Yes, 'I shall look forward very much to yourreturn.' Oh, how happy I am! What is happening to me? How happy I am!"said Pierre to himself.