Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

The end of Moscow is coming.It was autumn and the weather was fine.It was Sunday.As usual on Sundays, church bells rang for services.It seems that no one will understand what awaits Moscow. There are only two indicators of social conditions that describe Moscow's situation: the underclass, the poor, and the problem of prices.Workers, slaves, and peasants, as well as petty officials, high school students, and nobles, flocked to the Three Mountains early in the morning.When they got there, Rastoptchin was nowhere to be seen, and after confirming that Moscow was going to give up, they dispersed and went back to various parts of Moscow, pouring into hotels and restaurants.Today's prices also show the state of affairs.The prices of arms, gold, chariots and horses continued to rise, and the prices of paper money and urban household goods kept falling, so that at noon it came to a situation where expensive goods, such as cloth, were paid half a cent for the cartman who carried them, and five cents for a farmer's horse. A hundred rubles; furniture, mirrors, and brassware are free.

In the magnificent old mansion in Rostov, the original appearance of life is slightly decaying.In terms of personnel, only three of the many servants fled at night, but they did not steal anything; in terms of wealth, the thirty carts from the manor turned out to be a huge fortune. Many people envied these carts, Willing to spend a huge sum of money to negotiate with the Rostov family.Not only were people spending huge sums of money trying to buy vehicles, but orderlies and servants from wounded officers, wounded who lived at his house and neighboring houses, kept coming to the courtyard of the Rostov mansion from evening to early morning of September 1. We personally struggled to come, and begged his family to give them a vehicle to leave Moscow.Although the steward who was sued was sympathetic to the wounded, he still firmly refused, saying that he did not even have the guts to sue the earl.No matter how much you sympathize with these wounded officers and soldiers who stayed here, obviously, if you have given one, there is no reason not to give another one.Thirty carts can't save all the wounded. Although everyone is suffering, they have to think about themselves and their families.That's what the butler thinks of the master.

Count Ilya Andreitch, who had been asleep until the early hours of the morning, quietly came out of the bedroom so as not to wake up the countess, who had not fallen asleep until the early hours of the morning, and appeared on the steps outside in a lavender silk pajamas.The packed cart was parked in the yard.A carriage carrying people is parked under the steps.The butler stood in the portico, talking to an old orderly and a pale young officer with bandaged hands.As soon as he saw the way of the earl and the king, he was dark but not clear, gloomy but not uttered. As if referring to the highest ideal in life, that is, the steward made a clear and stern gesture to the officer and orderly, telling them to go away.

"Well, what's the matter, is everything all right, Vassilyitch?" said the count, scratching his bald head, looking kindly at the officers and orderlies, and nodding to them. (The Earl loves to meet new people.) "It's all right to go in the car at once, my lord." "Well, that's great, Madame is waking up now, God bless! How are you, gentlemen?" he said to the officer. "Do you live in my house?" The officer moved closer. His pale face turned red in an instant. "Count, by your grace, allow me...for God's sake...to stand anywhere in your cart, I have nothing with me...let me go in the luggage cart..." The officer Before he could finish his sentence, the orderly made the same request to the count on behalf of his master.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," replied the count hastily, "I'm very, very happy. Vasilich, it's up to you. Well, take a car or two over there, right there... It's okay...if you need it..." the earl ordered with a vague expression.But the warm thanks expressed by the officer at this very moment made his order come true.The count looked around: wounded officers, soldiers and orderlies appeared in the yard, in the gate porch, and in the windows of the wing rooms.Looking at the count, they made their way up the steps. "Monseigneur, please go to the picture room: what do you want to do with those pictures?" said the butler.The count, therefore, entered the house with him, repeating his orders as he walked, not to refuse the wounded who asked for a ride.

"Well, it's nothing, some things can be put away, and you don't have to take them away." The count added quietly and mysteriously, as if he was afraid that someone would overhear. At nine o'clock the countess awoke, and Matrona Timofeevna, who had been a girl's maid and was now in charge of her wife's gendarmerie, came to tell her lady that Maria Karl Mrs. Lovna Shores felt wronged that the lady's summer clothes could not be kept.The countess asked Mrs. Shaws the reason for her grievances. It turned out that her box had been unloaded from the car, and the ropes tied to all the cars were also being untied. The belongings were being unloaded and the wounded were being lifted up. They were the count. Out of a simple heart, I ordered to take it away.The Countess sent her husband to come and see her.

"What's the matter, my friend, I hear the packs are coming down again?" "You know, Machere, I was about to tell you... Lady Countess Machere... an officer came to me and they asked for some wagons for the wounded. Those things can be brought back; what will happen to them if they stay , think about it!... Indeed, it was in our yard, we called them in ourselves, these officers... you know, I thought, yes, machere, this, machere... just take them... ...What are you in a hurry for?..." The count said embarrassingly, he hesitated to speak like this whenever money was involved.The countess was used to this tone of his, which always foreshadowed things that would ruin the children, such as building picture galleries and greenhouses, putting on theater groups or music; , it is the duty to stop every time something is indicated in such an embarrassing tone.

-------- ①Friends. She said to her husband with the look of a submissive person about to cry: "Listen, Count, you've brought this house down to nothing, and now all our property is ruined--you're going to destroy the children's property. Didn't you say it yourself? , Do you have one hundred thousand rubles at home? My friend, I don’t agree with your approach, I don’t agree. You can figure it out! There is a government for the wounded soldiers, they know it. Look at the Lopkhin’s house across the door Well, they shipped it all away the day before yesterday. That's what they do. We're the only fools. Don't pity me, pity the boy."

The count waved his hands and left the room without saying anything. "Father! what are you talking about?" asked Natasha, who had followed him into her mother's room. "What didn't you talk about? It's none of your business!" said the Count angrily. "I, I heard," said Natasha. "Why doesn't Mommy want to?" "What's your business?" growled the Count.Natasha turned and went to the window, where she fell into thought. "Papa, Berg has come to our house," she said, looking out of the window.