Book Four: 1806 - Chapter XIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　For two days after that Rostov did not see Dolokhov at his own or atDolokhov's home: on the third day he received a note from him:

　　As I do not intend to be at your house again for reasons you knowof, and am going to rejoin my regiment, I am giving a farewellsupper tonight to my friends- come to the English Hotel.

　　About ten o'clock Rostov went to the English Hotel straight from thetheater, where he had been with his family and Denisov. He was at onceshown to the best room, which Dolokhov had taken for that evening.Some twenty men were gathered round a table at which Dolokhov satbetween two candles. On the table was a pile of gold and papermoney, and he was keeping the bank. Rostov had not seen him sincehis proposal and Sonya's refusal and felt uncomfortable at the thoughtof how they would meet.

　　Dolokhov's clear, cold glance met Rostov as soon as he entered thedoor, as though he had long expected him.

　　"It's a long time since we met," he said. "Thanks for coming. I'lljust finish dealing, and then Ilyushka will come with his chorus."

　　"I called once or twice at your house," said Rostov, reddening.

　　Dolokhov made no reply.

　　"You may punt," he said.

　　Rostov recalled at that moment a strange conversation he had oncehad with Dolokhov. "None but fools trust to luck in play," Dolokhovhad then said.

　　"Or are you afraid to play with me?" Dolokhov now asked as ifguessing Rostov's thought.

　　Beneath his smile Rostov saw in him the mood he had shown at theClub dinner and at other times, when as if tired of everyday life hehad felt a need to escape from it by some strange, and usuallycruel, action.

　　Rostov felt ill at ease. He tried, but failed, to find some jokewith which to reply to Dolokhov's words. But before he had thoughtof anything, Dolokhov, looking straight in his face, said slowly anddeliberately so that everyone could hear:

　　"Do you remember we had a talk about cards... 'He's a fool whotrusts to luck, one should make certain,' and I want to try."

　　"To try his luck or the certainty?" Rostov asked himself.

　　"Well, you'd better not play," Dolokhov added, and springing a newpack of cards said: "Bank, gentlemen!"

　　Moving the money forward he prepared to deal. Rostov sat down by hisside and at first did not play. Dolokhov kept glancing at him.

　　"Why don't you play?" he asked.

　　And strange to say Nicholas felt that he could not help taking upa card, putting a small stake on it, and beginning to play.

　　"I have no money with me," he said.

　　"I'll trust you."

　　Rostov staked five rubles on a card and lost, staked again, andagain lost. Dolokhov "killed," that is, beat, ten cards of Rostov'srunning.

　　"Gentlemen," said Dolokhov after he had dealt for some time. "Pleaseplace your money on the cards or I may get muddled in the reckoning."

　　One of the players said he hoped he might be trusted.

　　"Yes, you might, but I am afraid of getting the accounts mixed. So Iask you to put the money on your cards," replied Dolokhov. "Don'tstint yourself, we'll settle afterwards," he added, turning to Rostov.

　　The game continued; a waiter kept handing round champagne.

　　All Rostov's cards were beaten and he had eight hundred rublesscored up against him. He wrote "800 rubles" on a card, but whilethe waiter filled his glass he changed his mind and altered it tohis usual stake of twenty rubles.

　　"Leave it," said Dolokhov, though he did not seem to be even lookingat Rostov, "you'll win it back all the sooner. I lose to the othersbut win from you. Or are you afraid of me?" he asked again.

　　Rostov submitted. He let the eight hundred remain and laid down aseven of hearts with a torn corner, which he had picked up from thefloor. He well remembered that seven afterwards. He laid down theseven of hearts, on which with a broken bit of chalk he had written"800 rubles" in clear upright figures; he emptied the glass of warmchampagne that was handed him, smiled at Dolokhov's words, and witha sinking heart, waiting for a seven to turn up, gazed at Dolokhov'shands which held the pack. Much depended on Rostov's winning or losingon that seven of hearts. On the previous Sunday the old count hadgiven his son two thousand rubles, and though he always dislikedspeaking of money difficulties had told Nicholas that this was allhe could let him have till May, and asked him to be more economicalthis time. Nicholas had replied that it would be more than enoughfor him and that he gave his word of honor not to take anything moretill the spring. Now only twelve hundred rubles was left of thatmoney, so that this seven of hearts meant for him not only the loss ofsixteen hundred rubles, but the necessity of going back on his word.With a sinking heart he watched Dolokhov's hands and thought, "Nowthen, make haste and let me have this card and I'll take my cap anddrive home to supper with Denisov, Natasha, and Sonya, and willcertainly never touch a card again." At that moment his home life,jokes with Petya, talks with Sonya, duets with Natasha, piquet withhis father, and even his comfortable bed in the house on thePovarskaya rose before him with such vividness, clearness, and charmthat it seemed as if it were all a lost and unappreciated bliss,long past. He could not conceive that a stupid chance, letting theseven be dealt to the right rather than to the left, might deprive himof all this happiness, newly appreciated and newly illumined, andplunge him into the depths of unknown and undefined misery. That couldnot be, yet he awaited with a sinking heart the movement of Dolokhov'shands. Those broad, reddish hands, with hairy wrists visible fromunder the shirt cuffs, laid down the pack and took up a glass and apipe that were handed him.

　　"So you are not afraid to play with me?" repeated Dolokhov, and asif about to tell a good story he put down the cards, leaned back inhis chair, and began deliberately with a smile:

　　"Yes, gentlemen, I've been told there's a rumor going about Moscowthat I'm a sharper, so I advise you to be careful."

　　"Come now, deal!" exclaimed Rostov.

　　"Oh, those Moscow gossips!" said Dolokhov, and he took up thecards with a smile.

　　"Aah!" Rostov almost screamed lifting both hands to his head. Theseven he needed was lying uppermost, the first card in the pack. Hehad lost more than he could pay.

　　"Still, don't ruin yourself!" said Dolokhov with a side glance atRostov as he continued to deal.