War And Peace

‘We knew nothing about it when we were leaving Moscow. I didn’t dare ask about him. And suddenly Sonya told me he was with us. I couldn’t think. I had no idea what state he was in. I just had to see him and be with him,’ she said, all breathless and trembling. And brooking no interruption she went through the story she had never told before, every detail of what she had suffered in the three weeks of their journey and the time spent in Yaroslavl.

Pierre listened to her open-mouthed, and his brimming eyes never left her. As he listened, he wasn’t thinking about Prince Andrey, or death, or what she was saying. He was just listening to her voice and feeling sorry for what she was going through as she told her story.

The princess sat by Natasha’s side frowning in an effort to hold back her tears. This was the first time she had heard the story of her brother’s last days and the love between him and Natasha.

To speak of that agonizing and joyous time was obviously something Natasha urgently needed to do.

On she went, mixing up trivial details with the innermost secrets of her heart, and it seemed as if she would never finish. Several times she said the same thing twice.

Dessalles’ voice was heard at the door asking whether little Nikolay might come in to say goodnight.

‘And that’s it. That’s all there is . . .’ said Natasha. She got quickly to her feet just as little Nikolay came in, almost ran across to the door, bumped her head against it where it was hidden by the curtain, and with a cry of pain mixed with grief she rushed out of the room.

Pierre stared at the door she had gone out through and wondered why suddenly he felt alone in the big wide world.

Princess Marya roused him from his thoughts by drawing his attention to her nephew, who had just come in.

Little Nikolay’s face – so like his father’s – made such an impact on Pierre at this moment of emotional strain that when he had kissed the little boy he got to his feet, took out his handkerchief and walked over to the window. He wanted to take leave of Princess Marya, but she wouldn’t let him go.

‘No, Natasha and I often stay up till after two o’clock. Please stay a little longer. We’ll have some supper. Go downstairs. We’ll be down in a minute.’

Before Pierre went down, the princess said to him, ‘It’s the first time she’s talked about him like this.’

CHAPTER 17

Pierre was shown into the large, brightly lit dining-room. After a few minutes he heard footsteps and the princess and Natasha came into the room. Natasha was calm, though the rather grim and unsmiling expression was back on her face. Princess Marya, Natasha and Pierre were all experiencing the feeling of awkwardness that usually follows when people have just finished a serious and intimate conversation. There is no going back to the earlier subject, but light-hearted chitchat seems wrong, and saying nothing is unacceptable because the urge to talk is still there, and silence would seem like an affectation. They were silent as they came to the table. The footmen drew the chairs back and pushed them in again. Pierre unfolded his cold dinner napkin. Determined to break the silence, he glanced across at Natasha and at Princess Marya. The two of them had clearly come to the same decision at the same time; their eyes shone, they seemed glad to be alive and ready to acknowledge life’s happiness along with its sorrow.

‘Do you drink vodka, Count?’ said Princess Marya, and at those words the shadows of the past were immediately dispelled.

‘Tell us how you’ve been getting on,’ said Princess Marya. ‘We’ve heard the most fantastic stories about you.’

‘Oh yes,’ answered Pierre, with the gentle smile of irony that was now second nature to him. ‘I keep hearing fantastic things too – things I would never have dreamt of myself. Marya Abramovna invited me over and spent the whole time telling me what had happened to me, or was supposed to have happened. Stepan Stepanovich gave me some lessons in telling my story. I’ve come to the conclusion it’s an easy life being an interesting person. (I am now an interesting person.) People invite me over, and they do the talking.’

Natasha smiled and was about to speak.

‘We did hear,’ said Princess Marya, cutting in, ‘that you had lost two million in Moscow. Is that right?’

‘Oh, I’m three times as rich as I was,’ said Pierre. Despite the change in his affairs brought about by his wife’s debts and the need to rebuild, Pierre still went about claiming that his wealth had trebled.

‘The one thing I did get,’ he said, ‘is freedom . . .’ He was off on a serious subject, but then he thought better of it and stopped, feeling he was becoming too self-centred.

‘And are you going to rebuild?’

‘Yes. So Savelich tells me.’