THE ROSTOVS remained in Moscow till the 1st of September, the day before the enemy entered the city.

After Petya had joined Obolensky's regiment of Cossacks and had gone away to Byely Tserkov, where the regiment was being enrolled, the countess fell into a panic of terror. The idea that both her sons were at the war, that they had both escaped from under her wing, that any day either of them—and possibly even both at once, like the three sons of a lady of her acquaintance—might be killed, seemed for the first time that summer to strike her imagination with cruel vividness. She tried to get Nikolay back, wanted to go herself after Petya, or to obtain some post for him in Petersburg; but all these seemed equally impossible. Petya could not be brought back except by the return of his regiment, or through being transferred to another regiment on active service. Nikolay was somewhere at the front, and nothing had been heard from him since the letter in which he had given a detailed account of his meeting with Princess Marya. The countess could not sleep at nights, and when she did sleep, she dreamed that her sons had been killed. After much talking the matter over, and many consultations of friends, the count at last hit on a means for soothing the countess. He got Petya transferred from Obolensky's regiment to Bezuhov's, which was in formation near Moscow. Though, even so, Petya remained in the army, by this exchange the countess had the consolation of seeing one son at least again under her wing; and she hoped to manage not to let her Petya escape her again, but to succeed in getting him always appointed to places where there would be no risk of his being in battle. While Nikolay had been the only one in danger, the countess had fancied (and had suffered some pricks of conscience on the subject) that she loved her elder son better than the other children. But now that her younger boy, the scapegrace Petya, always idle at his lessons, always in mischief, and teasing every one, her little Petya, with his snub-nose, his merry black eyes, his fresh colour, and the soft down just showing on his cheeks, had slipped away into the company of those big, dreadful, cruel men, who were fighting away somewhere about something, and finding a sort of pleasure in it—now it seemed to the mother that she loved him more, far more, than all the rest. The nearer the time came for the return of her longed-for Petya to Moscow, the greater was the uneasiness of the countess. She positively thought she would never live to see such happiness. Not only Sonya's presence, even her favourite Natasha's, even her husband's company, irritated the countess. “What do I want with them, I want no one but Petya!” she thought. One day towards the end of August, the Rostovs received a second letter from Nikolay. He wrote from the province of Voronezh, where he had been sent to procure remounts. This letter did not soothe the countess. Knowing that one son was out of danger, she seemed to feel even greater alarm on Petya's account.

Although by the 20th of August almost all the Rostovs' acquaintances had left Moscow; although everybody was trying to persuade the countess to get away as quickly as possible, she would not hear of leaving till her treasure, her idolised Petya, had come back. On the 28th of August Petya arrived. The morbidly passionate tenderness with which his mother received him was by no means gratifying to the sixteen-year-old officer. Though his mother concealed her intention of never letting him escape from under her wing again, Petya divined her plans, and instinctively afraid of his mother's making him too soft, of her “making a ninny” of him (as he expressed it in his own mind), he treated her rather coolly, avoided being with her, and during his stay in Moscow devoted himself exclusively to Natasha, for whom he had always had the warmest brotherly affection, almost approaching adoration.

The count, with his characteristic carelessness, had by the 28th made no preparations for leaving, and the waggons that were to come from their Moscow and Ryazan estate to remove all their property out of the house only arrived on the 30th.

From the 28th to the 31st, Moscow was all bustle and movement. Every day thousands of wounded from the field of Borodino were brought in at the Dorogomilov gate and conveyed across Moscow, and thousands of vehicles, full of residents and their belongings, were driving out at the gates on the opposite side of the city. In spite of Rastoptchin's placards—either arising independently of them, or perhaps in consequence of them—the strangest and most contradictory rumours were circulating about the town. Some said that every one was forbidden to leave the city; others asserted that all the holy pictures had been taken from the churches, and every one was to be driven out of Moscow by force. Some said there had been another battle after Borodino, in which the French had been utterly defeated; others declared that the whole Russian army had been annihilated. Some talked of the Moscow militia, which was to advance, preceded by priests, to Three Hills; others whispered that Father Augustin had been forbidden to leave, that traitors had been caught, that the peasants were in revolt, and were plundering those who left the town, and so on. But all this was only talk: in reality even though the council at Fili, at which it was decided to abandon Moscow, had not yet taken place, all—those who were leaving and those who were staying—felt that Moscow would be surrendered, though they did not say so freely, and felt that they must make all haste to escape, and to save their property. There was a feeling that there must come a general crash and change, yet till the 1st of September everything went on unchanged. Like a criminal being led to the gallows, who knows in a minute he must die, and yet stares about, and puts straight the cap awry on his head, Moscow instinctively went on with the daily routine of life, though aware that the hour of ruin was approaching, when all the customary conditions of life would be at an end.

During the three days preceding the occupation of Moscow, the whole Rostov family was busily engaged in various practical ways. The head of the family, Count Ilya Andreitch, was continually driving about the town, picking up all the rumours that were in circulation, and while at home, gave superficial and hasty directions for the preparations for departure.

The countess superintended the sorting out of things to be packed; she was out of humour with every one, and was in continual pursuit of Petya, who was as continually escaping from her, and exciting her jealousy by spending all his time with Natasha. Sonya was the only person who really undertook the practical business of getting things packed. But Sonya had been particularly silent and melancholy of late. She had been present when Nikolay's letter mentioning Princess Marya had elicited the most delighted deductions from the countess, who saw in Nikolay's meeting with Princess Marya the direct intervention of Providence.

“I was never really happy,” said the countess, “when Bolkonsky was engaged to Natasha, but I had always longed for Nikolay to marry the princess, and I have always had a presentiment about it. And what a good thing it would be!”

Sonya felt that this was true; that the only possibility of retrieving the Rostovs' position was by Nikolay's marriage to an heiress, and that the princess would be an excellent match for him. But this reflection was very bitter for her. In spite, or perhaps in consequence, of her sadness, she undertook the difficult task of seeing after the sorting and packing of the household goods, and for whole days together she was busily employed. The count and countess referred to her when they had any orders to give. Petya and Natasha, on the contrary, did nothing to help their parents, but were generally in every one's way, and were only a hindrance. And all day long the house resounded with their flying footsteps and shouts and shrieks of causeless mirth. They laughed and were gay, not in the least because there was reason for laughter. But they were gay and glad at heart, and so everything that happened was reason enough for gaiety and laughter in them. Petya was in high spirits because he had left home a boy, and come back (so every one told him) a fine young man, because he was at home, because he had left Byely Tserkov, where there seemed no hope of being soon on active service, and come to Moscow where there would be fighting in a few days, and above all, because Natasha, whose lead he always followed, was in high spirits. Natasha was gay, because she had too long been sad, and now nothing reminded her of the cause of her sadness, and she was quite strong again. She was gay too, because she needed some one to adore her (the adoration of others was like the grease on the wheels, without which her mechanism never worked quite smoothly), and Petya did adore her. And above all, they were both gay, because there was war at the very gates of Moscow, because there would be fighting at the barriers, because arms were being given out, and everybody was rushing about, and altogether something extraordinary was happening, which is always inspiriting, especially for the young.

罗斯托夫家直到九月一日，即敌军开进莫斯科前夕，都还留在城里。

彼佳参加奥博连斯基哥萨克团赴该团驻地白采尔科维之后，恐惧找上了伯爵夫人。他那两个儿子从军打仗，双双从她羽翼下飞走，今天或明天其中一个，也可能两个一齐阵亡，就像她一个朋友的三个儿子那样，这个想法，在这年夏天，第一次冷酷无情地清清楚楚呈现在她的脑际。她试图把尼古拉弄回她的身边，又想亲自去找彼佳，把他安插到彼得堡的某个地方，但两件事都办不成。彼佳不可能调回，除非随团一道或通过调动到另一个团的方式回家一趟。尼古拉在另一处部队上，他写来详细叙述与玛丽亚公爵小姐邂逅的上封信后，便再无音讯。伯爵夫人夜里睡不着觉，一旦睡着，便梦见两个阵亡的儿子。经过多次商量和交谈，伯爵终于想出一个安慰伯爵夫人的办法。他把彼佳从奥博连斯基团转到在莫斯科郊外整编的别祖霍夫团。虽然彼佳仍在军队服役，但这一调动之后，伯爵夫人至少看得到一个儿子置于自己的羽翼之下而得到慰藉，她还指望通过安排，使自己的彼佳不再放走，并且永远隶属于一个无论如何绝不会投入战斗的军事单位。现在只有尼古拉一个人有危险了，伯爵夫人觉得（她甚至如此后悔），她爱老大超过了其余孩子；可是，当那个小的调皮鬼，学习糟糕，在家里老是闹得天翻地覆，人人讨厌的彼佳，那个翘鼻子的彼佳，长着一双活泼的黑眼睛、面颊清新红润、刚长出一层茸毛的彼佳，与这些大个儿的可怕的粗暴的男人混在一起，而这些人·为·着·某·种·目·的而厮杀，并从中得到乐趣，这时，母亲便觉得她最爱这个小儿子远远超过爱自己所有别的孩子。彼佳回莫斯科的归期愈益临近，望眼欲穿的伯爵夫人的焦急不安愈益增加。她开始觉得她永远等不到这一幸福了。不仅有索尼娅，还有可爱的娜塔莎，甚至还有丈夫出现在她面前，他们都会使她惶惶不安。“我和他们有何相干，我谁也不希罕，只要彼佳！”她想。

八月底，罗斯托夫家收到尼古拉第二封来信。信是从沃罗涅日省寄来的，他去那里置办马匹。这封信没有使伯爵夫人放心。在知道一个孩子平安的情况下，她却更强烈地耽心起彼佳来了。

虽然从八月二十日起，几乎所有罗斯托夫家的熟人纷纷离开了莫斯科，虽然大家都劝伯爵夫人尽快出发，但在她的宝贝，她宠爱的彼佳未回来之前，她一点也听不进关于走的事。二十八日，彼佳回来了。母亲迎接他时那种热情得近乎病态的爱怜，这位十六岁的军官很不高兴。虽然母亲向他隐瞒着她的意图——从此再不把他从自己羽翼下放走，彼佳却明白她的用意，所以，他出于本能的畏惧，害怕同母亲过于缠绵而失掉男子气概（他心里这样想），他便对她冷漠，躲避她，在逗留莫斯科期间只与娜塔莎为伴，他对她总是表现出特殊的，近乎爱恋的手足之情。

因为伯爵一贯疏忽大意，八月二十八日还没有作好启程的任何准备，等待中的梁赞和莫斯科乡下派来搬运全部家产的车辆，三十日才抵达。

自八月二十八至三十一，全莫斯科处于忙乱和流动之中。每天，都有成千的波罗底诺战役的伤兵，从多罗戈米洛夫城门运进，分散安置于全市，又有几千辆大车载着居民和财物从别的城门驶出。尽管有拉斯托普钦的通告，或者与通告无关，或者与其直接有关，各种相互矛盾的、耸人听闻的消息仍在全城流传。有的人在说离城的命令尚未下达；相反，有的人却说，各教堂的圣像都已抬走，大家都要被强制疏散；有的人说波罗底诺战役之后又打了一仗，打垮了法军；有的人却相反地说，俄军全军覆没；有的人在议论民团将开赴三座山，神父走在前列；有的人在暗地里讲述奥古斯丁未获准离城啦，抓住了奸细啦，农民正在暴动，抢劫逃难的人啦，如此等等，不一而足。但这一切不过是传闻而已，而实际上呢，无论是走还是留下的人（其实，决定放弃莫斯科的菲利军事会议尚未召开），通通明白，尽管嘴上不说，莫斯科必将陷落，应该尽快打点行装，保住自己的财产。有一种气氛，好像突然之间一切会瓦解会变成另一个样子。但到一号为止，毫无变化发生。像被带往刑场的囚犯，明知死期已至，仍在回处张望，整理好戴歪了的帽子一样，莫斯科不由自主地继续着它的日常生活，虽然知道覆灭之期已近，届时，人们已惯于遵循的生活常规将瘫痪掉。

在莫斯科落入敌手之前的三天时间里，罗斯托夫一家大小都杂乱无章地忙于各种生活琐事。一家之主的伊利亚·安得烈伊奇伯爵天天乘马车在城里各处奔忙，收集四面八方的传闻，而在家里对于启程的准备，只作此浮皮潦草的安排。

伯爵夫人监督着东西的清理收拾，对谁都不满意，时时去照拂一见她就躲开的彼佳，为他而妒嫉娜塔莎，因为他总跟她在一起。只有索尼娅一个人料理实际的事务：收拾包裹。但是索尼娅最后这几天始终特别忧郁和沉默寡言。尼古拉那封提到玛丽亚公爵小姐的信，使得伯爵夫人高兴地下了断语，当着她的面说，在玛丽亚公爵小姐和尼古拉的巧遇上，她看到上帝的意愿。

“博尔孔斯基做娜塔莎的未婚夫，我从来没有高兴过，”伯爵夫人说，“可我总是希望，而且我有预感，尼古连卡会娶公爵小姐。这该多好啊！”

索尼娅觉得这是对的。罗斯托夫家业重振的唯一希望，是娶一房有钱的媳妇，而公爵小姐就是一个很好的配偶，但这对她说来太痛苦了。尽管痛苦，也许正由于痛苦，她把所有繁杂的如何收拾装箱打包的事全揽了起来，整整几天地忙碌，伯爵和伯爵夫人有什么事须要吩咐时，便去找她。相反，彼佳和娜塔莎不仅不帮父母的忙，还大部份时间让家里的所有人感到厌烦和碍事。整天几乎都听得到他们在宅院追逐、叫喊和无缘无故的哈哈大笑。他们高兴地笑闹，不是因为有值得笑的理由；但他们心里感到高兴和愉快，所以，无论发生什么事，都是他们开心和笑的理由。彼佳高兴，是因为他离家时是个孩子，而回来时（大家都对他这样说）已是男子汉大丈夫了，因为他回到家里还因为离开了白采尔科维，那地方没有即将投入战斗的希望，而今回到莫斯科，几天之内这儿就要打仗。主要的是，因为一贯影响他情绪的娜塔莎心里高兴。娜塔莎的高兴，则是由于她忧郁得太久了，现在已没有什么使她触发忧郁的情绪，并且，她身体健康。她高兴，是还因为有一个人在赞美她（他人的赞美，是使她的机器运转完全自如的必不可少的齿轮的润滑油），而彼佳就是这个人。总而言之，他们俩人高兴，是因为战争逼进莫斯科，就要在城墙边打起来，就要分发武器，大家在逃跑，在往别处去，发生着不寻常的事情，不寻常的事情对于众人来说，尤其是对青年人来说，总是很开心的。