第176章

第176章twomonthshadpassedsincethenewsofthedefeatofausterlitzandthelossofprinceandreyhadreachedbleakhills.inspiteofallresearchesandlettersthroughtherussianembassy,hisbodyhadnotbeenfound,norwasheamongtheprisoners.whatmadeitworstofallforhisfatherandsisterwasthefactthattherewasstillhopethathemighthavebeenpickeduponthebattlefieldbythepeopleofthecountry,andmightperhapsbelying,recovering,ordyingsomewherealone,amongstrangers,incapableofgivinganyaccountofhimself.thenewspapers,fromwhichtheoldprincehadfirstheardofthedefeatatausterlitz,had,asalways,givenverybriefandvagueaccountsofhowtherussianshadbeenobligedafterbrilliantvictoriestoretreatandhadmadetheirwithdrawalinperfectorder.theoldprincesawfromthisofficialaccountthatourarmyhadbeendefeated.aweekafterthenewspaperthathadbroughtnewsofthedefeatofausterlitz,camealetterfromkutuzov,whodescribedtotheoldprincetheparttakeninitbyhisson.

“beforemyeyes,”wrotekutuzov,“yoursonwiththeflaginhishands,attheheadofaregiment,felllikeahero,worthyofhisfatherandhisfatherland.tomyregretandthegeneralregretofthewholearmyithasnotbeenascertaineduptonowwhetherheisaliveordead.icomfortmyselfandyouwiththehopethatyoursonisliving,as,otherwise,hewouldhavebeenmentionedamongtheofficersfoundonthefieldofbattle,alistofwhomhasbeengivenmeunderflagoftruce.”

afterreceivingthisletter,lateintheeveningwhenhewasaloneinhisstudy,theoldprincewentforthismorningwalkasusualnextday.buthewassilentwiththebailiff,thegardener,andthearchitect,andthoughhelookedwrathful,saidnothingtothem.whenprincessmaryawentintohimattheusualhour,hewasstandingatthelatheandwentonturningasusual,withoutlookingroundather.“ah？princessmarya！”hesaidsuddenlyinanunnaturalvoice,andheletthelathego.（thewheelswungroundfromtheimpetus.longafter,princessmaryarememberedthedyingcreakofthewheel,whichwasassociatedforherwithwhatfollowed.）

princessmaryawentuptohim;shecaughtsightofhisface,andsomethingseemedsuddenlytogivewaywithinher.hereyescouldnotseeclearly.fromherfather’sface—notsadnorcrushed,butvindictiveandfullofunnaturalconflict—shesawthattherewashangingoverher,comingtocrushher,aterriblecalamity,theworstinlife,acalamityshehadnotknowntillthen,acalamityirrevocable,irremediable,thedeathofonebeloved.

“father！andrey？…”saidtheungainly,awkwardprincesswithsuchunutterablebeautyofsorrowandself-forgetfulnessthatherfathercouldnotbeartomeethereyesandturnedawaysobbing.

“ihavehadnews.notamongtheprisoners,notamongthekilled,kutuzovwrites,”hescreamedshrilly,asthoughhewoulddrivehisdaughterawaywiththatshriek.“killed！”

theprincessdidnotswoon,shedidnotfallintoafaint.shewaspale,butwhensheheardthosewordsherfacewastransformed,andtherewasaradianceofsomethinginherbeautiful,luminouseyes.somethinglikejoy,anexaltedjoy,apartfromthesorrowsandjoysofthisworld,floodedthebittergriefshefeltwithinher.sheforgotallherterrorofherfather,wentuptohim,tookhimbythehand,drewhimtoher,andputherarmabouthiswithered,sinewyneck.

“father,”shesaid,“donotturnawayfromme,letusweepforhimtogether.”