战争与和平(上)-第194部分
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Princess Marya ran out on to the steps； along the flower…bed path； and into the avenue。 A great crowd of militiamen and servants were coming down it towards her； and in the middle of that crowd several men were holding up and dragging along a little old man in a uniform and decorations。 Princess Marya ran towards him； and in the dancing； tiny rings of light that filtered through the shade of the lime…tree avenue； she could form no distinct impression of the change in his face。 The only thing she could see was that the stern and determined expression of his face had changed to a look of timidity and submission。 On seeing his daughter； he tried to move his powerless lips； and uttered a hoarse sound。 It was impossible to understand what he meant。 He was lifted up； carried into his study； and laid on the couch； which had been such an object of dread to him of late。
The doctor； who was brought over the same night； bled him； and declared that the prince had had a stroke； paralysing his right side。
To remain at Bleak Hills was becoming more and more dangerous； and the next day they moved the prince to Bogutcharovo。 The doctor travelled with him。
When they reached Bogutcharovo； they found Dessalle had already set off for Moscow with the little prince。
For three weeks the old prince lay stricken with paralysis； getting neither better nor worse； in the new house Prince Andrey had planned at Bogutcharovo。 The old prince was unconscious； he lay like a deformed corpse。 He muttered incessantly； twitching his eyebrows and lips； and it was impossible to tell whether he understood his surroundings or not。 Only one thing could be said for certain： that was； that he was suffering； and had a craving to express something。 But what that was no one could tell： whether it were some sick and half…crazy whim； whether it related to public affairs or family circumstances。
The doctor said that this uneasiness meant nothing； that it was due to physical causes。 But Princess Marya believed （and the fact that her presence seemed to intensify the restlessness； confirmed her supposition） that he wanted to tell her something。
He was evidently suffering both physically and mentally。 There was no hope of recovery。 It was impossible to move him。 What if he were to die on the road？ “Wouldn’t it be better if it were over； if all were over？” Princess Marya thought sometimes。 Day and night； almost without sleep； she watched him； and； terrible to say； she watched him； not in the hope of finding symptoms of a change for the better； but often in the hope of seeing symptoms of the approaching end。
Strange as it was for the princess to own it to herself； she had this feeling in her heart。 And what was still more horrible to Princess Marya was the fact that ever since her father’s illness （if not even before； when she resolved to stay with him； in vague expectation of something） all the forgotten hopes and desires slumbering within her head awakened。 Ideas that had not entered her head for years—dreams of a life free from the terror of her father； even of the possibility of love and a happy married life； haunted her imagination like temptations of the devil。 In vain she tried to drive away the thought； questions were continually in her mind how she would order her life now； after this。 It was a temptation of the devil； and Princess Marya knew it。 She knew that the sole weapon of avail against him was prayer； and she strove to pray。 She threw herself into the attitude of prayer； gazed at the holy pictures； repeated the words of the prayer； but still she could not pray。 She felt herself carried off into a new world of real life； of labour and free activity； utterly opposed to the moral atmosphere in which she had been kept in bondage and in which the one consolation was prayer。 She could not pray and could not weep； and practical cares absorbed her mind。
To remain at Bogutcharovo was becoming unsafe。 Rumours came from all sides of the French being near； and in one village； fifteen versts from Bogutcharovo； a house had been sacked by French marauders。 The doctor insisted on the necessity of moving the prince； the marshal of the province sent an official to Princess Marya to persuade her to get away as quickly as possible。 The captain of the police visited Bogutcharovo to insist on the same thing； telling her that the French were only forty versts away； that French proclamations were circulating in the villages； and that if the princess did not move her father before the 15th； he could not answer for the consequences。
The princess made up her mind to leave on the 15th。 The preparations and giving all the necessary instructions； for which every one applied to her； kept her busy the whole of the previous day。 The night of the 14th she spent as usual； without undressing； in the room next to the one where the old prince lay。 Several times she waked up； hearing his groaning and muttering； the creak of the bedstead； and the steps of Tihon and the doctor moving him。 Several times she listened at the door； and it seemed to her that he was muttering more loudly than usual and turning more restlessly。 She could not sleep； and several times she went to the door； listening； tempted to go in； but unable to make up her mind to do so。 Although he could not speak； Princess Marya saw and knew how he disliked any expression of anxiety about him。 She had noticed how he turned in displeasure away from her eyes； which were sometimes unconsciously fixed persistently on him。 She knew her going in at night； at an unusual time； would irritate him。
But never had she felt so sorry for him； never had she felt it so dreadful to lose him。 She went over all her life with him； and in every word； every action； she saw an expression of his love for her。 Occasionally these reminiscences were interrupted by the temptation of the devil； dreams came back to her imagination of what would happen after his death； and how she would order her new independent existence。 But she drove away such thoughts with horror。 Towards morning he was quieter； and she fell asleep。
She waked up late。 The perfect sincerity； which often accompanies the moment of waking； showed her unmistakably what it was that was of most interest to her in her father’s illness。 She waked up； listened to what was passing through the door； and catching the sound of his muttering； she told herself with a sigh that there was no change。
“But what should there be？ What did I hope for？ I hope for his death；” she cried； with inward loathing of herself。
She washed； dressed； said her prayers； and went out on to the steps。 At the entrance the carriages in which their luggage was packed were standing without horses。
The morning was warm and grey。 Princess Marya lingered on the steps； still horrified at her own spiritual infamy； and trying to get her ideas into shape before going in to see him。
The doctor came downstairs and out to her。
“He is a little better to…day；” said the doctor。 “I was looking for you。 One can make out a little of what he says。 His head is clearer。 Come in。 He is asking for you…”
Princess Marya’s heart beat so violently at this news that she turned pale and leaned against the door to keep from falling。 To see him； to talk to him； to be under his eyes now； when all her soul was filled with these fearful； sinful imaginings was full of an agonising joy and terror for her。
“Let us go in；” said the doctor。
Princess Marya went in to her father； and went up to his bedside。 He was lying raised high on his back； his little bony hands； covered with knotted purple veins； were laid on the quilt； his left eye was gazing straight before him； while the right eye was distorted； and his lips and eyebrows were motionless。 He looked so thin； so small； and pitiable。 His face looked withered up or melted away； his features all seemed smaller。 Princess Marya went up and kissed his hand。 His left hand clasped her hand in a way that showed he had long been wanting her。 He twitched her hand； and his eyebrows and lips quivered angrily。
She looked at him in dismay； trying to fathom what he wanted of her。 When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her； he seemed satisfied； and for several seconds kept his eye fixed on her。 Then his lips and tongue twitched； sounds came； and he tried to speak； looking with imploring timidity at her； evidently afraid she would not understand him。
Princess Marya strained every faculty of attention as she gazed at him。 The comic effort with which he strove to make his tongue work made Princess Marya drop her eyes； and she had much ado to stifle the sobs that rose in her throat。 He was saying something； several times repeating his words。 Princess Marya could not understand them； but she tried to guess what he was saying； and repeated interrogatively the words she supposed him to be uttering。
“O … o … aye … aye …！” he repeated several time。 It was impossible to interpret these sounds。 The doctor thought he had guessed it； and asked：
“The princess is afraid？”
He shook his head； and again repeated the same sounds。
“The soul； the soul is in pain！” Princess Marya guessed。 He grunted affirmatively； took her hand； and began pressing it to different parts of his breast as though seeking the right place for it。
“Always thinking！—about you … thinking …！” he articulated； far more intelligibly than before now that he felt sure of being understood。 Princess Marya pressed her head against his arm； trying to hide her sobs and tears。
He passed his hand over her hair。
“I called for you all night …” he articulated。
“If I had only known …” she said； through her tears。 “I was afraid to come in。”
He pressed her hand。
“Weren’t you asleep？”
“No； I couldn’t sleep；” said Princess Marya； shaking her head。
Unconsciously imitating her father； she tried to speak more by signs； as he spoke； as though she； too； had a difficulty in articulating。
“Darling！” … or “dear one！” … Princess Marya could not distinguish the word； but from the expression of his eyes she had no doubt what was said was a word of caressing tenderness such as he had never used to her before。 “Why didn’t you come？”
“And I was wishing； wishing for his death！” thought Princess Marya。
He paused。
“Thanks … to you �
