Book Eight: 1811-12 - Chapter XX

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Pierre did not stay for dinner, but left the room and went away atonce. He drove through the town seeking Anatole Kuragin, at thethought of whom now the blood rushed to his heart and he felt adifficulty in breathing. He was not at the ice hills, nor at thegypsies', nor at Komoneno's. Pierre drove to the Club. In the Club allwas going on as usual. The members who were assembling for dinner weresitting about in groups; they greeted Pierre and spoke of the townnews. The footman having greeted him, knowing his habits and hisacquaintances, told him there was a place left for him in the smalldining room and that Prince Michael Zakharych was in the library,but Paul Timofeevich had not yet arrived. One of Pierre'sacquaintances, while they were talking about the weather, asked ifhe had heard of Kuragin's abduction of Rostova which was talked ofin the town, and was it true? Pierre laughed and said it wasnonsense for he had just come from the Rostovs'. He asked everyoneabout Anatole. One man told him he had not come yet, and anotherthat he was coming to dinner. Pierre felt it strange to see this calm,indifferent crowd of people unaware of what was going on in hissoul. He paced through the ballroom, waited till everyone had come,and as Anatole had not turned up did not stay for dinner but drovehome.

　　Anatole, for whom Pierre was looking, dined that day withDolokhov, consulting him as to how to remedy this unfortunateaffair. It seemed to him essential to see Natasha. In the evening hedrove to his sister's to discuss with her how to arrange a meeting.When Pierre returned home after vainly hunting all over Moscow, hisvalet informed him that Prince Anatole was with the countess. Thecountess' drawing room was full of guests.

　　Pierre without greeting his wife whom he had not seen since hisreturn- at that moment she was more repulsive to him than ever-entered the drawing room and seeing Anatole went up to him.

　　"Ah, Pierre," said the countess going up to her husband. "Youdon't know what a plight our Anatole..."

　　She stopped, seeing in the forward thrust of her husband's head,in his glowing eyes and his resolute gait, the terrible indications ofthat rage and strength which she knew and had herself experiencedafter his duel with Dolokhov.

　　"Where you are, there is vice and evil!" said Pierre to his wife."Anatole, come with me! I must speak to you," he added in French.

　　Anatole glanced round at his sister and rose submissively, readyto follow Pierre. Pierre, taking him by the arm, pulled him towardhimself and was leading him from the room.

　　"If you allow yourself in my drawing room..." whispered Helene,but Pierre did not reply and went out of the room.

　　Anatole followed him with his usual jaunty step but his facebetrayed anxiety.

　　Having entered his study Pierre closed the door and addressedAnatole without looking at him.

　　"You promised Countess Rostova to marry her and were about toelope with her, is that so?"

　　"Mon cher," answered Anatole (their whole conversation was inFrench), "I don't consider myself bound to answer questions put tome in that tone."

　　Pierre's face, already pale, became distorted by fury. He seizedAnatole by the collar of his uniform with his big hand and shook himfrom side to side till Anatole's face showed a sufficient degree ofterror.

　　"When I tell you that I must talk to you!..." repeated Pierre.

　　"Come now, this is stupid. What?" said Anatole, fingering a buttonof his collar that had been wrenched loose with a bit of the cloth.

　　"You're a scoundrel and a blackguard, and I don't know what deprivesme from the pleasure of smashing your head with this!" said Pierre,expressing himself so artificially because he was talking French.

　　He took a heavy paperweight and lifted it threateningly, but at onceput it back in its place.

　　"Did you promise to marry her?"

　　"I... I didn't think of it. I never promised, because..."

　　Pierre interrupted him.

　　"Have you any letters of hers? Any letters?" he said, movingtoward Anatole.

　　Anatole glanced at him and immediately thrust his hand into hispocket and drew out his pocketbook.

　　Pierre took the letter Anatole handed him and, pushing aside a tablethat stood in his way, threw himself on the sofa.

　　"I shan't be violent, don't be afraid!" said Pierre in answer to afrightened gesture of Anatole's. "First, the letters," said he, asif repeating a lesson to himself. "Secondly," he continued after ashort pause, again rising and again pacing the room, "tomorrow youmust get out of Moscow."

　　"But how can I?..."

　　"Thirdly," Pierre continued without listening to him, "you mustnever breathe a word of what has passed between you and CountessRostova. I know I can't prevent your doing so, but if you have a sparkof conscience..." Pierre paced the room several times in silence.

　　Anatole sat at a table frowning and biting his lips.

　　"After all, you must understand that besides your pleasure thereis such a thing as other people's happiness and peace, and that youare ruining a whole life for the sake of amusing yourself! Amuseyourself with women like my wife- with them you are within yourrights, for they know what you want of them. They are armed againstyou by the same experience of debauchery; but to promise a maid tomarry her... to deceive, to kidnap.... Don't you understand that it isas mean as beating an old man or a child?..."

　　Pierre paused and looked at Anatole no longer with an angry but witha questioning look.

　　"I don't know about that, eh?" said Anatole, growing moreconfident as Pierre mastered his wrath. "I don't know that and don'twant to," he said, not looking at Pierre and with a slight tremor ofhis lower jaw, "but you have used such words to me- 'mean' and soon- which as a man of honor I can't allow anyone to use."

　　Pierre glanced at him with amazement, unable to understand what hewanted.

　　"Though it was tete-a-tete," Anatole continued, "still I can't..."

　　"Is it satisfaction you want?" said Pierre ironically.

　　"You could at least take back your words. What? If you want me to doas you wish, eh?"

　　"I take them back, I take them back!" said Pierre, "and I ask you toforgive me." Pierre involuntarily glanced at the loose button. "And ifyou require money for your journey..."

　　Anatole smiled. The expression of that base and cringing smile,which Pierre knew so well in his wife, revolted him.

　　"Oh, vile and heartless brood!" he exclaimed, and left the room.

　　Next day Anatole left for Petersburg.