Page 160 of 470
“Ah, it’s you? Very glad, very glad to see you,” he said, however, coming toward him with a smile. But Rostv had noticed his first impulse.
“I’ve come at a bad time I think. I should not have come, but I have business,” he said coldly.
“No, I only wonder how you managed to get away from your regiment. Dans un moment je suis vous,” * he said, answering someone who called him.
* “In a minute I shall be at your disposal.”
“I see I’m intruding,” Rostv repeated.
The look of annoyance had already disappeared from Bors’ face: having evidently reflected and decided how to act, he very quietly took both Rostv’s hands and led him into the next room. His eyes, looking serenely and steadily at Rostv, seemed to be veiled by something, as if screened by blue spectacles of conventionality. So it seemed to Rostv.
“Oh, come now! As if you could come at a wrong time!” said Bors, and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his.
“Count Zhilnski—le Comte N. N.—le Capitaine S. S.,” said he, naming his guests. Rostv looked frowningly at the Frenchmen, bowed reluctantly, and remained silent.
Zhilnski evidently did not receive this new Russian person very willingly into his circle and did not speak to Rostv. Bors did not appear to notice the constraint the newcomer produced and, with the same pleasant composure and the same veiled look in his eyes with which he had met Rostv, tried to enliven the conversation. One of the Frenchmen, with the politeness characteristic of his countrymen, addressed the obstinately taciturn Rostv, saying that the latter had probably come to Tilsit to see the Emperor.
“No, I came on business,” replied Rostv, briefly.
Rostv had been out of humor from the moment he noticed the look of dissatisfaction on Bors’ face, and as always happens to those in a bad humor, it seemed to him that everyone regarded him with aversion and that he was in everybody’s way. He really was in their way, for he alone took no part in the conversation which again became general. The looks the visitors cast on him seemed to say: “And what is he sitting here for?” He rose and went up to Bors.
“Anyhow, I’m in your way,” he said in a low tone. “Come and talk over my business and I’ll go away.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” said Bors. “But if you are tired, come and lie down in my room and have a rest.”
“Yes, really...”
They went into the little room where Bors slept. Rostv, without sitting down, began at once, irritably (as if Bors were to blame in some way) telling him about Densov’s affair, asking him whether, through his general, he could and would intercede with the Emperor on Densov’s behalf and get Densov’s petition handed in. When he and Bors were alone, Rostv felt for the first time that he could not look Bors in the face without a sense of awkwardness. Bors, with one leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender fingers of his right, listened to Rostv as a general listens to the report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight into Rostv’s eyes with the same veiled look. Each time this happened Rostv felt uncomfortable and cast down his eyes.
“I have heard of such cases and know that His Majesty is very severe in such affairs. I think it would be best not to bring it before the Emperor, but to apply to the commander of the corps.... But in general, I think...”
“So you don’t want to do anything? Well then, say so!” Rostv almost shouted, not looking Bors in the face.
Bors smiled.
“On the contrary, I will do what I can. Only I thought...”
At that moment Zhilnski’s voice was heard calling Bors.
“Well then, go, go, go...” said Rostv, and refusing supper and remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room.
Rostv had come to Tilsit the day least suitable for a petition on Densov’s behalf. He could not himself go to the general in attendance as he was in mufti and had come to Tilsit without permission to do so, and Bors, even had he wished to, could not have done so on the following day. On that day, June 27, the preliminaries of peace were signed. The Emperors exchanged decorations: Alexander received the Cross of the Legion of Honor and Napoleon the Order of St. Andrew of the First Degree, and a dinner had been arranged for the evening, given by a battalion of the French Guards to the Preobrazhnsk battalion. The Emperors were to be present at that banquet.
Rostv felt so ill at ease and uncomfortable with Bors that, when the latter looked in after supper, he pretended to be asleep, and early next morning went away, avoiding Bors. In his civilian clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the Russian and French Emperors were staying. In a square he saw tables being set up and preparations made for the dinner; he saw the Russian and French colors draped from side to side of the streets, with huge monograms A and N. In the windows of the houses also flags and bunting were displayed.
“Bors doesn’t want to help me and I don’t want to ask him. That’s settled,” thought Nicholas. “All is over between us, but I won’t leave here without having done all I can for Densov and certainly not without getting his letter to the Emperor. The Emperor!... He is here!” thought Rostv, who had unconsciously returned to the house where Alexander lodged.
Saddled horses were standing before the house and the suite were assembling, evidently preparing for the Emperor to come out.
“I may see him at any moment,” thought Rostv. “If only I were to hand the letter direct to him and tell him all... could they really arrest me for my civilian clothes? Surely not! He would understand on whose side justice lies. He understands everything, knows everything. Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he? And even if they did arrest me for being here, what would it matter?” thought he, looking at an officer who was entering the house the Emperor occupied. “After all, people do go in.... It’s all nonsense! I’ll go in and hand the letter to the Emperor myself so much the worse for Drubetsky who drives me to it!” And suddenly with a determination he himself did not expect, Rostv felt for the letter in his pocket and went straight to the house.
