第537章

第537章twoequallypowerfulfeelingsdrewpierreirresistiblytohisdesign.thefirstwasthecravingforsacrificeandsufferingthroughthesenseofthecommoncalamity,thefeelingthathadimpelledhimtogotomozhaiskonthe25th,andtoplacehimselfintheverythickofthebattle,andnowtorunawayfromhisownhouse,togiveuphisaccustomedluxuryandcomfort,tosleepwithoutundressingonahardsofa,andtoeatthesamefoodasgerasim.theotherwasthatvagueandexclusivelyrussianfeelingofcontemptforeverythingconventional,artificial,human,foreverythingthatisregardedbythemajorityofmenasthehighestgoodintheworld.pierrehadforthefirsttimeexperiencedthatstrangeandfascinatingfeelingintheslobodskypalace,whenhesuddenlyfeltthatwealthandpowerandlife,allthatmenbuildupandguardwithsucheffort,isonlyworthanythingthroughthejoywithwhichitcanallbecastaway.

itwasthesamefeelingthatimpelsthevolunteer-recruittodrinkuphislastfarthing,thedrunkenmantosmashlooking-glassesandwindow-panesfornoapparentcause,thoughheknowsitwillcosthimhislittleall;thefeelingthroughwhichamanindoingthings,vulgarlyspeaking,senseless,asitwere,proveshispersonalforceandpower,bymanifestingthepresenceofahigherstandardofjudginglife,outsidemerehumanlimitations.

eversincethedaywhenpierrefirstexperiencedthisfeelingintheslobodskypalace,hehadbeencontinuallyundertheinfluenceofit,butitwasonlynowthatitfoundfullsatisfaction.moreoveratthepresentmomentpierrewassupportedinhisdesign,andpreventedfromabandoningit,bythestepshehadalreadytakeninthatdirection.hisflightfromhisownhouse,andhisdisguise,andhispistol,andhisstatementtotherostovsthatheshouldremaininmoscow,—allwouldhavebeendevoidofmeaning,wouldhavebeenindeedabsurdandlaughable（apointtowhichpierrewassensitive）ifafterallthathehadsimplygoneoutofmoscowlikeotherpeople.

pierre’sphysicalstate,asisalwaysthecase,correspondedwithhismoralcondition.thecoarsefaretowhichhewasunused,thevodkahedrankduringthosedays,thelackofwineandcigars,hisdirty,unchangedlinen,andtwohalf-sleeplessnights,spentonashortsofawithoutbedding,allreducedpierretoastateofnervousirritabilityborderingonmadness.

itwastwoo’clockintheafternoon.thefrenchhadalreadyenteredmoscow.pierreknewthis,butinsteadofacting,heonlybroodedoverhisenterprise,goingoveralltheminutestdetailsofit.inhisdreamspierreneverclearlypicturedtheveryactofstrikingtheblow,northedeathofnapoleon,butwithextraordinaryvividnessandmournfulenjoymentdweltonhisownendandhisheroicfortitude.

“yes,onemanforall,imustactorperish！”hethought.“yes,iwillapproach…andthenallatonce…withapistoloraer！”thoughtpierre.“butthatdoesn’tmatter.it’snotibutthehandofprovidencepunishesyou.…ishallsay”（pierreponderedoverthewordshewouldutterashekillednapoleon）.“well,takeme,executeme！”pierrewouldmurmurtohimself,bowinghisheadwithasadbutfirmexpressiononhisface.

whilepierrewasstandinginthemiddleoftheroom,musinginthisfashion,thedoorofthestudyopened,andmakaralexyevitch—alwayshithertosotimid—appearedinthedoorway,completelytransformed.

hisdressing-gownwashangingopen.hisfacewasredanddistorted.hewasunmistakablydrunk.onseeingpierrehewasforthefirstminutedisconcerted,butobservingdiscomfitureinpierre’sfacetoo,hewasatonceemboldenedbyit;andwithhisthin,totteringlegswalkedintothemiddleoftheroom.

“theyhavegrownfearful,”hesaid,inahuskyandconfidentialvoice.“isay：iwillnotsurrender,isay…eh,sir？”hepausedandsuddenlycatchingsightofthepistolonthetable,snatcheditwithsurprisingrapidityandranoutintothecorridor.

gerasimandtheporter,whohadfollowedmakaralexyevitch,stoppedhiminthevestibule,andtriedtogetthepistolawayfromhim.pierrecomingoutofthestudylookedwithrepugnanceandcompassionatthehalf-insaneoldman.makaralexyevitch,frowningwitheffort,eededinkeepingthepistol,andwasshoutinginahuskyvoice,evidentlyimaginingsomeheroicscene.

“toarms！boardthem！youshan’tgetit！”hewasshouting.

“giveover,please,giveover.domethefavour,sir,pleasebequiet.therenow,ifyouplease,sir,…”gerasimwassaying,cautiouslytryingtosteermakaralexyevitchbyhiselbowstowardsthedoor.

“whoareyou？bonaparte！…”yelledmakaralexyevitch.

“that’snotthething,sir.youcomeintoyourroomandrestalittle.letmehavethepistolnow.”

“away,baseslave！don’ttouchme！doyousee？”screamedmakaralexyevitch,brandishingthepistol.“runthemdown！”

“takehold！”gerasimwhisperedtotheporter.

theyseizedmakaralexyevitchbythearmsandedhimtowardsthedoor.

thevestibulewasfilledwiththeunseemlysoundsofscufflinganddrunken,huskygasping.

suddenlyanewsound,ashrill,feminineshriek,washeardfromtheporch,andthecookranintothevestibule.

“they！mercifulheavens！…mygoodness,heretheyare！fourofthem,horsemen！”shescreamed.

gerasimandtheporterletmakaralexyevitchgo,andinthehushthatfollowedinthecorridortheycoulddistinctlyhearseveralhandsknockingatthefrontdoor.