Chapter 6 Chapter Six

The Rostovs had not heard from Nikolushka for a long time, and only in the middle of winter did the count receive a letter from which he recognized his son's handwriting.When the count received this letter, he was terrified, and trying to appear as invisible as possible, ran on tiptoe into his study, closed the door, and read the letter.Anna Mikhaylovna knew that there was a letter at home (she knew all about what had happened at home), and she moved quietly up to the count, and met him with a letter in his hand, weeping and laughing very much. Embarrassed. Although Anna Mikhailovna's condition improved, she continued to live with the Rostovs.

"Monbonami?" Anna Mikhaylovna asked sadly, willing to sympathize with him no matter what happened. -------- ①French: My good friend. The Count wept still more. "Nikolushka...a letter...wounded...macherve,...wounded...my dear...countess...he was promoted to officer...thank God...how to say to the countess it is good?……" During the luncheon, Anna Mikhailovna kept talking about the war, about Nikolushka, and although she knew it already, she asked twice in succession when she had received it. A recent letter from him, she said, and maybe it didn't matter, but there would be another letter today.Whenever the princess, flustered and alarmed by these hints, looked now at the count and now at Anna Mikhaylovna, Anna Mikhaylovna inconspicuously changed the subject to on insignificant things.Natasha was the most talented of the whole family. She was good at reading the nuances of people's tone of voice, eyes and facial expressions. She pricked up her ears from the beginning of the luncheon. What happened between Anna, what happened involving her brother, what Anna Mikhaylovna was planning.Natasha, bold as she was (she knew her mother was sensitive to everything about Nikolushka), dared not ask questions at lunch and, because of her anxiety, did not know what to do during lunch. She didn't eat, she couldn't sit still in her chair, and she didn't listen to her governess' reproaches.After dinner she ran desperately after Anna Mikhaylovna, and rushed across the lounge to throw her arms around her neck.

"Good aunt, my dear, tell me, what's going on?" "It's all right, my friend." "No, my darling, my darling, I will never rest until I speak, and I know what you know." Anna Mikhaylovna shook her head. "Voustesune finemouche, monenfant," she said. -------- ①French: Hey, you are such a slippery head. "A letter from Nikolinka? It must be!" cried Natasha, seeing the affirmative answer from Anna Mikhaylovna's face. "But for God's sake, be careful, you know it might surprise your mother." "I'll be careful, I'll be careful, but tell me. Won't you? Well, I'll do it right away."

In a few words, Anna Mikhaylovna told Natasha the contents of the letter, on one condition: not to tell anyone. "I will never break my word," said Natasha, crossing herself, "I will never tell anyone." She ran at once to Sonya. "Nikolenka... was wounded... and there is a letter..." she said excitedly and cheerfully. "Nicholas!" Sonia just started to speak, her face suddenly turned pale. For the first time, Natasha had seen the news of her brother's injury affect Sonya with sadness. She squeezed Sonia, hugged her, and burst into tears. "Slightly wounded, but promoted to an officer, he himself wrote in the letter that he is currently in good health," she said through tears.

"It follows that you women are weepers," said Petya, walking up and down the room with firm steps. "My brother is outstanding, I am very happy, to be honest, I am very happy. You are all crying! You don't understand anything." Natasha smiled through tears. "Have you not read the letter?" Sonia asked. "I haven't read it, but she said it's over, he's an officer..." "Thank goodness," Sonia said as she crossed herself. "But she may have lied to you. Let's go to mother." Petya walked up and down the room in silence.

"If I were in Nikolushka's place, I'd kill more Frenchmen," he said. "How vile they are! I'd kill them all, and let the bones pile up." Petya continued. "Petya, shut up, you are a fool! . . . " "I'm not a fool, but those who cry over little things are fools." Petya said. "Do you remember him?" Natasha suddenly asked after a moment of silence.Sonia smiled slightly. "Do I remember Nikolai?" "No, Sonia, do you remember him, remember him clearly, remember everything clearly," said Natasha, with an affectionate gesture, evidently trying to give her words the most serious meaning. . "I remember Nikolai, too, I remember him," she said, "but I don't remember Boris. Not at all. . . . "

"What? Don't you remember Boris?" Sonia asked in surprise. "It's not that I don't remember, I know what he looked like, but not as clearly as I remember Nikolenka. I remember him with my eyes closed, but not Boris (she closes her eyes), really , I don’t remember, I don’t remember at all!” "Oh, Natasha!" said Sonya, looking at her friend with joy and seriousness, as if she did not think her worthy of hearing what she had to say, and as if she were telling it to another person who could not joke . "Since I am in love with your brother, no matter what happens to him or to me, I will always love him all my life."

Natasha opened her curious eyes, looked at Sonya in surprise, and remained silent.She felt that Sonia was telling the truth, and there was also the kind of love Sonia said, but Natasha had no such experience.She believed that such a thing could happen, but she did not understand. "Are you going to write to him?" she asked. Sonia fell silent.How to write to Nicholas, and whether it was necessary to write, were questions that tormented her.Now that he was an officer, a wounded hero, was it right for her to ask him to think of herself, as if he had that responsibility to her? "I don't know, I suppose. If he writes, I write too," she said, flushing.

"Aren't you ashamed to write to him?" Sonia smiled slightly. "do not think so." "But I find it shameful to write to Boris, so I don't write to him." "Why do you feel ashamed?" "That's what it is, I don't know. I'm ashamed, I'm sorry." "But I know why she should be ashamed," said Natasha's initial reproach, which aggrieved Petya, "because she fell in love with this fat man with spectacles (so Petya called his namesake— Bezukhov, the new Count), and now he is in love with the singer (Petya is talking about the Italian teacher who taught Natasha), so she is ashamed."

"Petya, you are a fool," said Natasha. "My dear, I'm no more stupid than you," said nine-year-old Petya, like an old brigadier general. Anna Mikhaylovna gave hints during lunch, and the countess was mentally prepared.When she had returned to her room, she sat in an easy chair, gazed intently at the miniature portrait of her son mounted on the snuff box, and tears welled up in her eyes. Anna Mikhailovna went on tiptoe to the count with the letter. At the lady's door, she stopped. "Please don't come in," she said to the old count, who was walking behind Anna, "for a while." She closed the door behind her.

The count put his ear to the lock and listened. First he heard indifferent conversation, then Anna Mikhaylovna's garrulous speech alone, then a cry, then silence, then both of them talking in cheerful tones, and then he Hearing footsteps, Anna Mikhaylovna opened the door to him.Anna Mikhailovna had a proud expression on her face, as if an operating physician, after a difficult amputation, brings the audience into the operating room to admire his skill. "C'est fait!" she said to the count with an excited gesture, pointing to the countess, who held the smoking bottle with the portrait in one hand and the letter in the other, and pressed her lips now to the smoking bottle and to the letter. superior. -------- ①French: finished. When she saw the count, she stretched out her hand to him and embraced his bald head, through which she read the letter and the portrait, gently pushed the bald head away, and kissed the letter and the portrait.Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and Petya entered the room and began to read the letter.The letter briefly described the march, the two battles in which Nikolushka had participated, his promotion to the rank of officer, and mentioned that he had kissed the hands of his parents, asking them to bless him, kissing Vera, Natasha, Peter Good, and besides that, he greeted Mr. Schelling, and Mrs. Shores, and the nurse, and besides that, he begged to kiss dear Sonia for him, whom he still loved and missed so much.Sonia blushed when she heard this, and tears welled up in her eyes.She couldn't bear the stares that were thrown at her, and ran into the hall, running faster and faster, spinning dizzily, her dress ballooning, flushed, smiling, sitting on the floor. down.The Countess wept bitterly. "Maman, why are you crying?" Vera said, "Judging from the letter he wrote, he should be happy, don't cry." This was quite true, but the count, countess, and Natasha all looked at her reproachfully. "Who does she look like?" the Countess thought for a moment. Nikolushka's letter was read hundreds of times, and those who thought it right to go and listen to it all went up to the countess who held the letter in her hand.The governess, the nurse, Mitenka, and several acquaintances came to her, and the countess read the letter over and over again, each time feeling a new kind of pleasure, each time discovering Nikolushka's identity in the letter. new virtues.How strange, how extraordinary, how delightful she found her son--the son who moved his tiny limbs in her womb twenty years ago, for whom she had had many quarrels with the count The son who first learned to say "pear" and then "mother-in-law" is now living in a different place and in an unfamiliar environment. He is actually a brave warrior who has made a great effort alone without assistance or guidance. A manly business.The experience of the whole world since ancient times shows that children grow up gradually without knowing it from childhood, but this experience did not exist for the Countess.It seemed to her that her son's development at each stage was extraordinary, just as millions of people never developed like this.Twenty years ago, how could she have believed that the little creature living somewhere under her heart could cry, suck and talk, and now judging from this letter, she would also not believe that the little creature now He became a strong and brave man, and he became a model for everyone and his descendants. "How eloquently and beautifully he narrates it!" said she, when she came to the descriptive part of the letter. "What a pure soul! He doesn't mention himself at all... not at all! He mentions a certain Denisov, who must have been braver than everyone else. He doesn't write a word about his sufferings, how nice Good heart! I know him so well! He remembers them all! He forgets no one. When he was so little, I used to-- I often say, I often say..." They had been preparing for more than a week, finished the draft of the letter, and copied several letters from the family to Nikolushka. Under the supervision of the countess and the care of the count, they raised some necessities and money, Purchase military uniforms and living utensils for promoted officers.Anna Mikhaylovna was a practical woman, and she was able to intercede in the army even with regard to correspondence with her son. She took the opportunity to send a letter to Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich, who commanded the Guards.The Rostov family speculated that the foreign, foreign, Russian, national, and imperial guards were a completely fixed mailing address. If the letter was posted to the Grand Duke Constantine who commanded the Guards, there would be no reason not to send it. to the nearby Paulograd Regimental Headquarters.It was therefore decided to send letters and money to Boris by means of the Grand Duke's courier, who was bound to forward them to Nikolushka.Letters from the old count and countess, letters from Petya, Vera, Natasha, Sonya, and six thousand rubles, which the count had sent to his son for uniforms and other supplies, arrived.