THE VALET on going in informed the count that Moscow was on fire. The count put on his dressing-gown and went out to look. With him went Sonya, who had not yet undressed, and Madame Schoss, Natasha and the countess were left alone within. Petya was no longer with the family; he had gone on ahead with his regiment1 marching to Troitsa.
The countess wept on hearing that Moscow was in flames. Natasha, pale, with staring eyes, sat on the bench under the holy images, the spot where she had first thrown herself down on entering, and took no notice of her father's words. She was listening to the never-ceasing moan of the adjutant, audible three huts away.
“Oh! how awful!” cried Sonya, coming in chilled and frightened from the yard. “I do believe all Moscow is burning: there's an awful fire! Natasha, do look; you can see now from the window here,” she said, obviously trying to distract her friend's mind. But Natasha stared at her, as though she did not understand what was asked of her, and fixed2 her eyes again on the corner of the stove. Natasha had been in this petrified3 condition ever since morning, when Sonya, to the amazement4 and anger of the countess, had for some incomprehensible reason thought fit to inform Natasha of Prince Andrey's wound, and his presence among their train. The countess had been angry with Sonya, as she waited all the while on her friend, as though trying to atone5 for her fault.
“Look, Natasha, how frightfully it's burning,” said Sonya.
“What's burning?” asked Natasha. “Oh yes, Moscow.”
And to get rid of Sonya, and not hurt her by a refusal, she moved her head towards the window, looking in such a way that it was evident she could see nothing, and sat again in the same attitude as before.
“But didn't you see?”
“Yes, I really did see,” she declared in a voice that implored6 to be left in peace.
Both the countess and Sonya could readily understand that Moscow, the burning of Moscow, anything whatever in fact, could be of no interest to Natasha.
The count came in again behind the partition wall and lay down. The countess went up to Natasha, put the back of her hand to her head, as she did when her daughter was ill, then touched her forehead with her lips, as though to find out whether she were feverish7, and kissed her.
“You are chilled? You are all shaking. You should lie down,” she said.
“Lie down? Yes, very well, I'll lie down. I'll lie down in a minute,” said Natasha.
When Natasha had been told that morning that Prince Andrey was seriously wounded, and was travelling with them, she had at the first moment asked a great many questions, how and why and where she could see him. But after she had been told that she could not see him, that his wound was a serious one, but that his life was not in danger, though she plainly did not believe what was told her, she saw that she would get the same answer whatever she said, and gave up asking questions and speaking at all. All the way Natasha had sat motionless in the corner of the carriage with those wide eyes, the look which the countess knew so well and dreaded8 so much. And she was sitting in just the same way now on the bench in the hut. She was brooding on some plan; she was making, or already by now had made some decision, in her own mind—that the countess knew, but what that decision was she did not know, and that alarmed and worried her.
“Natasha, undress, darling, get into my bed.”
For the countess only a bed had been made up on a bedstead. Madame Schoss and the two girls were to sleep on hay on the floor.
“No, mamma, I'll lie here on the floor,” said Natasha irritably10; she went to the window and opened it. The moans of the adjutant could be heard more distinctly from the open window. She put her head out into the damp night air, and the countess saw her slender neck shaking with sobs12 and heaving against the window frame. Natasha knew it was not Prince Andrey moaning. She knew that Prince Andrey was in the same block of huts as they were in, that he was in the next hut just across the porch, but that fearful never-ceasing moan made her sob11. The countess exchanged glances with Sonya.
“Go to bed, darling, go to bed, my pet,” said the countess, lightly touching13 Natasha's shoulder. “Come, go to bed.”
“Oh yes … I'll go to bed at once, at once,” said Natasha, hurriedly undressing, and breaking the strings14 of her petticoats. Dropping off her dress, and putting on a dressing-jacket, she sat down on the bed made up on the floor, tucking her feet under her, and flinging her short, fine hair over her shoulder, began plaiting it. Her thin, long, practised fingers rapidly and deftly15 divided, plaited, and tied up her hair. Natasha's head turned from side to side as usual as she did this, but her eyes, feverishly16 wide, looked straight before her with the same fixed stare. When her toilet for the night was over, Natasha sank softly down on to the sheet laid on the hay nearest the door.
“Natasha, you lie in the middle,” said Sonya.
“I'll stay here,” said Natasha. “And do go to bed,” she added in a tone of annoyance17. And she buried her face in the pillow.
The countess, Madame Schoss, and Sonya hurriedly undressed and went to bed. The lamp before the holy images was the only light left in the room. But out of doors the fire at Little Mytishtchy lighted the country up for two versts round, and there was a noisy clamour of peasants shouting at the tavern18 across the street, which Mamonov's Cossacks had broken into, and the moan of the adjutant could be heard unceasingly through everything.
For a long while Natasha listened to the sounds that reached her from within and without, and she did not stir. She heard at first her mother's prayers and sighs, the creaking of her bed under her, Madame Schoss's familiar, whistling snore, Sonya's soft breathing. Then the countess called to Natasha. Natasha did not answer.
“I think she's asleep, mamma,” answered Sonya.
The countess, after a brief silence, spoke19 again, but this time no one answered her.
Soon after this Natasha caught the sound of her mother's even breathing. Natasha did not stir, though her little bare foot, poking20 out below the quilt, felt frozen against the uncovered floor.
A cricket chirped21 in a crack, as though celebrating a victory over all the world. A cock crowed far away, and another answered close by. The shouts had died away in the tavern, but the adjutant's moaning went on still the same. Natasha sat up.
“Sonya! Are you asleep? Mamma!” she whispered. No one answered. Slowly and cautiously, Natasha got up, crossed herself, and stepped cautiously with her slender, supple22, bare feet on to the dirty, cold floor. The boards creaked. With nimble feet she ran like a kitten a few steps, and took hold of the cold door-handle.
It seemed to her that something with heavy, rhythmical23 strokes was banging on all the walls of the hut; it was the beating of her own heart, torn with dread9, with love and terror.
She opened the door, stepped over the lintel, and on to the damp, cold earth of the passage outside. The cold all about her refreshed her. Her bare foot felt a man asleep; she stepped over him, and opened the door of the hut in which Prince Andrey was lying.
In that hut it was dark. A tallow candle with a great, smouldering wick stood on a bench in the further corner, by a bed, on which something was lying.
Ever since she had been told in the morning of Prince Andrey's wound and his presence there, Natasha had resolved that she must see him. She could not have said why this must be, but she knew their meeting would be anguish24 to her, and that made her the more certain that it must be inevitable25.
All day long she had lived in the hope that at night she would see him. But now when the moment had come, a terror came over her of what she would see. How had he been disfigured? What was left of him? Was he like that unceasing moan of the adjutant? Yes, he was all over like that. In her imagination he was that awful moan of pain personified. When she caught sight of an undefined mass in the corner, and took his raised knees under the quilt for his shoulders, she pictured some fearful body there, and stood still in terror. But an irresistible26 force drew her forward. She made one cautious step, another, and found herself in the middle of the small hut, cumbered up with baggage. On the bench, under the holy images, lay another man (this was Timohin), and on the floor were two more figures (the doctor and the valet).
The valet sat up and muttered something. Timohin, in pain from a wound in his leg, was not asleep, and gazed, all eyes, at the strange apparition27 of a girl in a white night-gown, dressing-jacket, and nightcap. The valet's sleepy and frightened words “What is it? What do you want?” only made Natasha hasten towards the figure lying in the corner. However fearfully unlike a human shape that figure might be now, she must see him. She passed by the valet, the smouldering candle flickered28 up, and she saw clearly Prince Andrey, lying with his arms stretched out on the quilt, looking just as she had always seen him.
He was just the same as ever; but the flush on his face, his shining eyes, gazing passionately29 at her, and especially the soft, childlike neck, showing above the lay-down collar of the nightshirt, gave him a peculiarly innocent, childlike look, such as she had never seen in him before. She ran up to him and with a swift, supple, youthful movement dropped on her knees.
He smiled, and held out his hand to her.
跟班回屋去报告伯爵说，莫斯科在燃烧，伯爵穿上外套出去看。和他一起出去的还有尚未脱衣就寝的索尼娅和肖斯太太。只有伯爵夫人和娜塔莎留在房间里。（彼佳再未和家人在一起，因为他随同开赴特罗伊茨的他所属的团队赶往前面去了。）
伯爵夫人听到莫斯科大火的消息，就哭起来了。娜塔莎面色苍白，目光呆定，坐在圣像下的长凳上（她一到达就坐在那里了），毫不注意她父亲的话。她在倾听副官一刻也没停止的呻吟，呻吟是从三间房舍以外传来的。
“啊，多么可怕！”打着冷战受到惊吓的索尼娅从院子里回来说，“我看，莫斯科会整个烧光，好吓人的火光啊！娜塔莎，现在你看看，从这儿的窗户就看得见，”她对表妹说，显然希望打破她的郁闷。但娜塔莎看了看她，似乎并不明白向她问什么，她又把眼睛盯在炉角上。娜塔莎当天从早晨起便这样呆呆地坐着，一直到现在，这时，索尼娅使伯爵夫人惊讶和恼怒，竟然擅自向娜塔莎透露，安德烈公爵负伤，且与他们同行，真不知出于什么原因。伯爵夫人从未对索尼娅发过那么大的脾气。索尼娅哭着请求原谅，现在，则好像尽量减轻自己的过失似的，不停地体贴表妹，照顾表妹。“快看，娜塔莎，烧得多可怕啊。”索尼娅说。
“哪里在燃烧？”娜塔莎问。“啊，对，莫斯科。”于是，似乎不便故意不顺从索尼娅，同时为了摆脱她，她把头转向窗户，用那显然看不见什么的样子看了看，然后又照原来坐的姿势坐下。
“你没有看见吧？”
“不，真的我看见了。”娜塔莎用乞求安静的声音说道。
伯爵夫人和索尼娅这才明白，无论莫斯科或莫斯科的火灾，都绝对不能对娜塔莎产生影响。
伯爵又回到隔板后躺下来了。伯爵夫人走近娜塔莎，用手背扪一下她的头，每当女儿生病她都是这样做的，然后用嘴唇接触她的额角，像是要知道是否有热度，接着吻了吻她。
“你冷啊？全身发抖呢。你最好躺下。”她说。
“躺下？对，好好，我躺下。我现在躺下。”娜塔莎说。
从当天早晨她得知安德烈公爵伤势严重，与他们同行的时候起，她只是最初一连串问过，他去哪儿？伤势怎么样？有致命危险吗？她能否看望他？但告诉她说她不能去看他，他伤势严重，但生命没有危险之后，她明显不相信对她说的话，而且坚定地认为，她无论说多少次，她只能得到相同的回答，便停止提问，连话也不说了。一路上，娜塔莎睁大着眼睛（伯爵夫人十分熟悉的眼睛，眼里的神情使伯爵夫人十分害怕），一动不动地坐在轿式马车的一角，这时，她在长凳上也依然坐着不动。她在考虑一件事，她要末还在盘算，要末拿定了主意。伯爵夫人看得出来，但不晓得是在想什么事，这便使她害怕，使她苦恼。
“娜塔莎，脱衣服，宝贝；睡到我床上来吧。”（只为伯爵夫人一人在一张床架上铺了床。肖斯太太和两位小姐都要睡在地板上铺的干草上。）
“不，妈妈，我要躺在这儿的地板上睡。”娜塔莎生气地回答，走到窗子跟前，把窗子打开。副官的呻吟，从打开的窗户听得更清楚了。她把头伸到夜晚那润湿的空气中，伯爵夫人便看到她细小的脖颈因抽泣而发抖，触动着窗框。娜塔莎知道呻吟的不是安德烈公爵。她知道安德烈公爵躺在隔着过道的一间小屋里，连着他们住的房子；但这可怕的不停的呻吟使她哭泣。伯爵夫人与索尼娅交换了一下眼神。
“躺下吧，宝贝，躺下吧，小伙伴，”伯爵夫人轻轻拍着娜塔莎的肩头说。“好啦，躺下睡嘛。”
“啊，是的……我马上，马上躺下。”娜塔莎说道，并急忙脱衣服，扯开裙带。她脱下连衣裙穿上短睡衣后，跪在地板的铺位上，把小辫甩到胸前，开始重新编扎。她那细长熟练的指头迅速地打散发辫，重新编好，然后扎起来。她的头习惯地向两边转动，但是她那发热似的睁大的眼睛，一动不动地看着前面。当换好衣裳后，娜塔莎悄悄钻进铺在门边干草上的褥子里。
“娜塔莎，你睡在中间。”索尼娅说。
“我就睡在这儿，”娜塔莎回答，“你们也躺下嘛。”她又烦恼地补了一句。随后，把脸埋进枕头里。
伯爵夫人，肖斯太太和索尼娅匆匆脱衣就寝。房里剩下圣像下的孤灯一盏。而院子里却被两俄里外的小梅季希村的大火照得很明亮，街上，斜对门被马蒙诺夫哥萨克砸过的小酒馆里，可以听见人们夜间的喧闹，仍然听见副官不停的呻吟。
娜塔莎注意听室内外传来的声音，一动不动地听了很久，她先听到母亲的祷告和叹息，她的睡榻的吱扭声，肖斯太太那熟悉的带嘘声的呼噜，以及索尼娅轻柔的鼻息声。然后，伯爵夫人呼唤娜塔莎。娜塔莎却不回应。
“看来，她睡着了，妈妈。”索尼娅轻轻回答。伯爵夫人静了一会儿再叫唤，已无人回答她了。
这之后娜塔莎很快地听到母亲均匀的呼吸。她没有弄出声响，尽管她的一只光脚丫露出被窝外，在光地板上快冻坏了。
一只蟋蟀，好像庆祝它战胜了所有的人，在墙缝里唧唧地叫。远处一只公鸡叫了，近处一只公鸡应和。小酒馆里的叫喊声沉寂下来，只听得到副官仍在呻吟。娜塔莎坐了起来。
“索尼娅？你睡了吗？妈妈？”她轻声呼唤，没有人回答。娜塔莎慢慢地小心地起身，划了十字，小心地将瘦小而灵活的光脚板踏到肮脏的冰凉的地板上。地板吱吱作响。她飞快地翻动脚板，像小猫一样跑了几步，便抓住了冰凉的门把。
她觉得有某种沉重的东西，节奏均匀地敲打着农舍的四壁：这是她那颗紧紧收缩的心，因惊悸、恐惧和爱情而破碎的心的跳动。
她打开门，跨过门槛，踩到过厅潮湿的冰凉的地上。扑面而来的冷空气使她精神一振。她的光脚触到一个睡着的人，她从他身上跨过去，打开了安德烈公爵住的那间农舍的房门。这间屋子很黑。在最里面的角落，在有什么躺着的床旁边的凳子上，立着一根烛芯结成一朵大烛花的脂油制的蜡烛。
娜塔莎从早上被告知安德烈公爵负伤，并住在这里的时候起，就决定她应该去看他。她不知道为什么要这样做，但她知道，会面将是痛苦的，而正因为这样，她才坚定地认为必须会面。
一整天，她都在期待着晚上去见他。而现在，当这一时刻来临，她又对即将见到的情形产生恐惧。他伤残得怎么样？还剩下些什么？是否像那个不停呻吟的副官的样子？是的，他完全是这样的。他在她的想象中，是那可怕的呻吟的化身。当她看到屋角里一团模糊的东西，把被子下面他拱起的膝盖当成他的肩膀时，她以为见到了一付可怕的躯体，吓得不敢动了。但不可抗拒的力量吸引她又往前走。她小心地迈出一步，再一步，出现在这间堆放杂物的房子中央。在圣像下几条拼起来的长凳上，躺着另一个人（这是季莫欣），而地板上还躺着某两个人（这是医生和随从）。
随从欠起身来小声说了句什么。季莫欣因腿上的伤疼得未能入睡，两眼盯着这个奇怪的身影——身穿白衬衫和短上衣，头戴套发帽的少女。睡意朦胧的随从惊恐地问了一声——“您要什么，来干什么？”——这使娜塔莎更快地走近躺在屋角的那件东西。无论这付躯体怎样可怕，简直不成人形，她都要见他。她走过随从身旁，蜡烛芯结的灯花掉下来，于是，她清楚地看见了手伸出被子的躺着的安德烈公爵，像她从前一向见到的那个样子。
他不像往常一样；但发热的面颜，兴奋地注视着她的明亮的眼睛，特别是从衬衫敞领露出的细细的孩子般的脖子，这一切赋予他特殊的稚气的模样，这是她从未在安德烈公爵身上见到过的。她用轻快的柔韧的年轻的步子走到他身旁跪了下来。
他微笑了，把手伸给她。
收听单词发音 |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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28
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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