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Princess
Mary spent half of every day with little Nicholas, watching his
lessons,
teaching him Russian and music herself, and talking to
Dessalles;
the rest of the day she spent over her books, with her old
nurse,
or with "God's folk" who sometimes came by the back door to see
her.
Of
the war Princess Mary thought as women do think about wars. She
feared
for her brother who was in it, was horrified by and amazed at the
strange
cruelty that impels men to kill one another, but she did not
understand
the significance of this war, which seemed to her like all
previous
wars. She did not realize the significance of this war, though
Dessalles
with whom she constantly conversed was passionately interested
in
its progress and tried to explain his own conception of it to
her,
and
though the "God's folk" who came to see her reported, in their
own
way,
the rumors current among the people of an invasion by Antichrist,
and
though Julie (now Princess Drubetskaya), who had resumed
correspondence
with her, wrote patriotic letters from Moscow.
"I
write you in Russian, my good friend," wrote Julie in her
Frenchified
Russian,
"because I have a detestation for all the French, and the same
for
their language which I cannot support to hear spoken.... We in
Moscow
are elated by enthusiasm for our adored Emperor.
"My
poor husband is enduring pains and hunger in Jewish taverns, but
the
news
which I have inspires me yet more.
"You
heard probably of the heroic exploit of Raevski, embracing his
two
sons
and saying: 'I will perish with them but we will not be shaken!'
And
truly though the enemy was twice stronger than we, we were
unshakable.
We pass the time as we can, but in war as in war! The
princesses
Aline and Sophie sit whole days with me, and we, unhappy
widows
of live men, make beautiful conversations over our 'charpie',
only
you, my friend, are missing..." and so on.
The
chief reason Princess Mary did not realize the full significance
of
this
war was that the old prince never spoke of it, did not recognize
it,
and laughed at Dessalles when he mentioned it at dinner. The
prince's
tone was so calm and confident that Princess Mary
unhesitatingly
believed him.
All
that July the old prince was exceedingly active and even
animated.
He
planned another garden and began a new building for the domestic
serfs.
The only thing that made Princess Mary anxious about him was that
he
slept very little and, instead of sleeping in his study as usual,
changed
his sleeping place every day. One day he would order his camp
bed
to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he remained on the
couch
or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and dozed there
without
undressing,
while--instead of Mademoiselle Bourienne--a serf boy read to
him.
Then again he would spend a night in the dining room.
On
August 1, a second letter was received from Prince Andrew. In his
first
letter which came soon after he had left home, Prince Andrew had
dutifully
asked his father's forgiveness for what he had allowed himself
to
say and begged to be restored to his favor. To this letter the
old
prince
had replied affectionately, and from that time had kept the
Frenchwoman
at a distance. Prince Andrew's second letter, written near
Vitebsk
after the French had occupied that town, gave a brief account of
the
whole campaign, enclosed for them a plan he had drawn and
forecasts
as
to the further progress of the war. In this letter Prince Andrew
pointed
out to his father the danger of staying at Bald Hills, so near
the
theater of war and on the army's direct line of march, and
advised
him
to move to Moscow.
At
dinner that day, on Dessalles' mentioning that the French were
said
to
have already entered Vitebsk, the old prince remembered his son's
letter.
"There
was a letter from Prince Andrew today," he said to Princess Mary-
-"Haven't
you read it?"
"No,
Father," she replied in a frightened voice.
She
could not have read the letter as she did not even know it had
arrived.
"He
writes about this war," said the prince, with the ironic smile
that
had
become habitual to him in speaking of the present war.
"That
must be very interesting," said Dessalles. "Prince Andrew is in a
position
to know..."
"Oh,
very interesting!" said Mademoiselle Bourienne.
"Go
and get it for me," said the old prince to Mademoiselle
Bourienne.
"You
know--under the paperweight on the little table."
Mademoiselle
Bourienne jumped up eagerly.
"No,
don't!" he exclaimed with a frown. "You go, Michael Ivanovich."
Michael
Ivanovich rose and went to the study. But as soon as he had left
the
room the old prince, looking uneasily round, threw down his
napkin
and
went himself.
"They
can't do anything... always make some muddle," he muttered.
While
he was away Princess Mary, Dessalles, Mademoiselle Bourienne, and
even
little Nicholas exchanged looks in silence. The old prince
returned
with
quick steps, accompanied by Michael Ivanovich, bringing the
letter
and
a plan. These he put down beside him--not letting anyone read
them
at
dinner.
On
moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess Mary
and,
spreading
out before him the plan of the new building and fixing his
eyes
upon it, told her to read the letter aloud. When she had done so
Princess
Mary looked inquiringly at her father. He was examining the
plan,
evidently engrossed in his own ideas.
"What
do you think of it, Prince?" Dessalles ventured to ask.
"I?
I?..." said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not
taking
his
eyes from the plan of the building.
"Very
possibly the theater of war will move so near to us that..."
"Ha
ha ha! The theater of war!" said the prince. "I have said and
still
say
that the theater of war is Poland and the enemy will never get
beyond
the Niemen."
Dessalles
looked in amazement at the prince, who was talking of the
Niemen
when the enemy was already at the Dnieper, but Princess Mary,
forgetting
the geographical position of the Niemen, thought that what
her
father was saying was correct.
"When
the snow melts they'll sink in the Polish swamps. Only they could
fail
to see it," the prince continued, evidently thinking of the
campaign
of 1807 which seemed to him so recent. "Bennigsen should have
advanced
into Prussia sooner, then things would have taken a different
turn..."
"But,
Prince," Dessalles began timidly, "the letter mentions
Vitebsk...."
"Ah,
the letter? Yes..." replied the prince peevishly. "Yes... yes..."
His
face suddenly took on a morose expression. He paused. "Yes, he
writes
that the French were beaten at... at... what river is it?"
Dessalles
dropped his eyes.
"The
prince says nothing about that," he remarked gently.
"Doesn't
he? But I didn't invent it myself."
No
one spoke for a long time.
"Yes...
yes... Well, Michael Ivanovich," he suddenly went on, raising
his
head and pointing to the plan of the building, "tell me how you
mean
to
alter it...."
Michael
Ivanovich went up to the plan, and the prince after speaking to
him
about the building looked angrily at Princess Mary and Dessalles
and
went
to his own room.
Princess
Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed on
her
father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that her
father
had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; but she
was
not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the reason of
his
confusion
and silence, but was afraid even to think about it.
In
the evening Michael Ivanovich, sent by the prince, came to
Princess
Mary
for Prince Andrew's letter which had been forgotten in the
drawing
room.
She gave it to him and, unpleasant as it was to her to do so,
ventured
to ask him what her father was doing.
"Always
busy," replied Michael Ivanovich with a respectfully ironic
smile
which caused Princess Mary to turn pale. "He's worrying very much
about
the new building. He has been reading a little, but now"--Michael
Ivanovich
went on, lowering his voice--"now he's at his desk, busy with
his
will, I expect." (One of the prince's favorite occupations of
late
had
been the preparation of some papers he meant to leave at his
death
and
which he called his "will.")
"And
Alpatych is being sent to Smolensk?" asked Princess Mary.
"Oh,
yes, he has been waiting to start for some time."
CHAPTER
III
When
Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the old
prince,
with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was sitting at his
open
bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in his outstretched
hand,
and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading his manuscript--
his
"Remarks" as he termed it--which was to be transmitted to the
Emperor
after his death.
When
Michael Ivanovich went in there were tears in the prince's eyes
evoked
by the memory of the time when the paper he was now reading had
been
written. He took the letter from Michael Ivanovich's hand, put it
in
his pocket, folded up his papers, and called in Alpatych who had
long
been
waiting.
The
prince had a list of things to be bought in Smolensk and, walking
up
and
down the room past Alpatych who stood by the door, he gave his
instructions.
"First,
notepaper--do you hear? Eight quires, like this sample, gilt-
edged...
it must be exactly like the sample. Varnish, sealing wax, as in
Michael
Ivanovich's list."
He
paced up and down for a while and glanced at his notes.
"Then
hand to the governor in person a letter about the deed."
Next,
bolts for the doors of the new building were wanted and had to be
of
a special shape the prince had himself designed, and a leather
case
had
to be ordered to keep the "will" in.
The
instructions to Alpatych took over two hours and still the prince
did
not let him go. He sat down, sank into thought, closed his eyes,
and
dozed
off. Alpatych made a slight movement.
"Well,
go, go! If anything more is wanted I'll send after you."
Alpatych
went out. The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into it,
fingered
his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at the table
to
write to the governor.
It
was already late when he rose after sealing the letter. He wished
to
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