Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

On August 17, Rostov and Ilyin rode from their quarters fifteen versts from Bogucharovo with Lavrushka, who had just been released from the prison camp, and a hussar messenger. Yankovo ​​set out—to try out the horse Ilyin had just bought and to find out if there was any hay in the villages around here. For the last three days Bogucharovo had been between the opposing armies, and the Russian rearguard and the French vanguard had easy access there.Rostov, a scheming cavalry commander, wanted to get ahead of the French and get the rations left at Bogucharovo. Rostov and Ilyin were in a very happy mood.On the way they sometimes amused themselves by asking Lavrushka about Napoleon; sometimes they raced each other and tried Ilyin's horse.In this way they drove to the estate of a prince in Bogucharovo, hoping to find a large number of domestic slaves and beautiful girls there.

Rostov did not know or suspect that the village to which he was going was the estate of Bolkonsky, to whom his sister had been engaged. When they were approaching Bogucharovo, Rostov and Ilyin let their horses go for a last race along the hills with gentle slopes.Rostov overtook Ilyin and was the first to run into the street of the village of Bogucharovo. "You ran to the front," said Ilyin, blushing. "Yes, all the way ahead, whether on the grass or here," replied Rostov, stroking the sweaty Don horse. "I ride my French horse, my lord," said Lavrushka after him.He called his poor cart-horse a French horse. "Who can win, but I don't want to make others lose face."

They rode slowly towards the barn where a large group of farmers stood. The peasants saw several men on horseback, some with their hats off, some without.At this time, two tall old men with wrinkled faces and sparse mustaches came out of the tavern.They laughed and sang out of tune as they approached the officers. "Good job!" said Rostov, laughing. "Is there any hay here?" "It's all the same..." said Ilyn. "Quick...quick...live...live, my darling...my darling..." The two drunks sang, smiling happily. A peasant stepped out of the crowd and came up to Rostov.

"Who are you?" he asked. "The Frenchman," Ilyin teased, "is Napoleon himself," he replied, pointing to Lavrushka. "So you are all Russians?" asked the peasant again. "Do you have many troops here?" asked another small farmer, approaching him. "A lot, a lot," replied Rostov. "What are you all doing here?" he asked, adding, "Is it a holiday?" "The old men gathered together to discuss the commune." The farmer replied, saying yes and walking away. At this moment, two women and a man in a white hat appeared on the road leading to the owner's house, and they walked towards the officer.

"The woman in the pink dress is mine. Be careful not to snatch it." Yilin said when he saw Dunyasha who was obviously walking towards him. "It belongs to us all!" Lavrushka winked at Ilyin. "What do you need, my beauty?" Ilyin asked with a smile. "The princess has orders. She wants to know which team you belong to and your surnames." "This is Count Rostov, captain of the hussars, and I am your loyal servant." "My darling... darling..." the drunk man sang, looking at Ilyin who was talking to the girl, and smiling happily.Alpatych, who was following Dunyasha, came up to Rostov and took off his hat at a distance.

"Your Excellency, I dare to disturb you," he said respectfully, putting his hand in his chest, but with a touch of contempt because the officer was so young, "Our lady, who died on the fifteenth of this month, The daughter of Admiral Prince Nikolai Andreyevich Bolkonsky is in trouble because of the ignorance of these people." Pointing to the peasants, he said, "she welcomes you... "Alpatych said with a wry smile, "please walk a few steps, otherwise it will be very inconvenient in front of..." Alpatych pointed to two peasants who were swaying back and forth beside him like horseflies.

"Ah! . . . Alpatych . . . ah? Yakov Alpatych! . . . Very well! For Jesus' sake, spare us! Huh? . . . " the two peasants laughed. tell him.Rostov looked at the two old men who were drunk and smiled. "Perhaps this pleases your Excellency, you?" Yakov Alpatitch said solemnly, pointing to the two old men with his hand which was not in his bosom. "No, it's nothing to be merry about," said Rostov, riding on. "What's going on here?" he asked. "I venture to tell your lordship that the rough country folk here will not let the lady leave the manor. They are threatening to unload the horses, so the carriage was loaded early in the morning, and the princess just can't go."

"Impossible!" Rostov cried. "What I want to tell you is the truth," said Alpatych. Rostov dismounted, handed the horse over to the orderly, and walked together with Alpatych to the house, asking for details as they went.Indeed, yesterday the princess proposed to distribute grain to the peasants, explained her attitude to Dron and the assembly, and made things so bad that Dron finally handed over the keys, sided with the peasants, and no longer listened to Alpa. Tecchi ordered.In the morning the princess ordered the carts to be harnessed and was ready to go, but a large number of peasants gathered in front of the barn and sent people to say that the princess would not be allowed to leave the village, that there was an order not to take things away, and that they were going to unload the horses from the carts. down.Alpatych came out to persuade them, but the answer he received was still: the princess cannot go, there is an order (Karp was the one who spoke mainly, Dron was not present in the crowd), they said, please stay. After coming down, they served her as usual and obeyed her in everything.

While Rostov and Ilyin were galloping along the road, Princess Marya, despite the dissuasion of Alpatych, the nurse, and the maid, ordered the carts to be harnessed and prepared to set off, but she saw some cavalrymen galloping up, and thought they were Frenchmen. They fled, and the women's cries rang out in the house. "My God, savior! God has sent you." Rostov heard voices of gratitude as he passed through the former town. When Rostov was introduced to Princess Marya, she was sitting in the hall, bewildered and helpless.She didn't understand who he was, what he was here for, and what he would do to her.She recognized him as a man of her class by the shape of his Russian face and the way he walked in and the words he spoke from the moment he opened his mouth.She glanced at him with her deep, bright eyes, and spoke brokenly and tremblingly with excitement.Rostov immediately felt that the encounter was romantic. "A helpless and distressed girl, alone at the mercy of rough and violent peasants! What a strange fate has brought me here!" thought Rostov, listening and gazing at her.

"How docile and noble is her countenance and expression!" thought he, as she spoke timidly. Her voice trembled as she began to describe how this all happened the day after her father's burial.She turned her face away, but, fearing that Rostov might think she was trying to arouse his pity, she looked at him suspiciously and alarmed.Rostov's eyes filled with tears.Princess Marya noticed this, and looked gratefully at Rostov, whose eyes were so bright that one could overlook her not-so-beautiful face. "Princess, I came here by chance, and it is an indescribable honor to be at your service," Rostov said, rising. "Go, I assure you on my honor, if you will allow me to escort You, no one will dare to trouble you." He bowed respectfully as if saluting a royal woman, and walked towards the door.

Rostov's courteous manner seemed to indicate that although it was a blessing to have made her acquaintance, he did not want to take advantage of her misfortune to approach her. Princess Marya understood and cherished this attitude. "I am very, very grateful to you!" the princess said to him in French, "but I hope it is only a misunderstanding and no one is at fault!" The princess burst into tears. "Forgive me," she said. Rostov frowned, bowed deeply again, and went out of the room.