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The
victorious
huntsman
rode
off
to
join
the
field
,
and
there
,
surrounded
by
inquiring
sympathizers
,
recounted
his
exploits
.
The
facts
were
that
Ilágin
,
with
whom
the
Rostóvs
had
a
quarrel
and
were
at
law
,
hunted
over
places
that
belonged
by
custom
to
the
Rostóvs
,
and
had
now
,
as
if
purposely
,
sent
his
men
to
the
very
woods
the
Rostóvs
were
hunting
and
let
his
man
snatch
a
fox
their
dogs
had
chased
.
Nicholas
,
though
he
had
never
seen
Ilágin
,
with
his
usual
absence
of
moderation
in
judgment
,
hated
him
cordially
from
reports
of
his
arbitrariness
and
violence
,
and
regarded
him
as
his
bitterest
foe
.
He
rode
in
angry
agitation
toward
him
,
firmly
grasping
his
whip
and
fully
prepared
to
take
the
most
resolute
and
desperate
steps
to
punish
his
enemy
.
Hardly
had
he
passed
an
angle
of
the
wood
before
a
stout
gentleman
in
a
beaver
cap
came
riding
toward
him
on
a
handsome
raven-black
horse
,
accompanied
by
two
hunt
servants
.
Instead
of
an
enemy
,
Nicholas
found
in
Ilágin
a
stately
and
courteous
gentleman
who
was
particularly
anxious
to
make
the
young
count
's
acquaintance
.
Having
ridden
up
to
Nicholas
,
Ilágin
raised
his
beaver
cap
and
said
he
much
regretted
what
had
occurred
and
would
have
the
man
punished
who
had
allowed
himself
to
seize
a
fox
hunted
by
someone
else
's
borzois
.
He
hoped
to
become
better
acquainted
with
the
count
and
invited
him
to
draw
his
covert
.
Natásha
,
afraid
that
her
brother
would
do
something
dreadful
,
had
followed
him
in
some
excitement
.
Seeing
the
enemies
exchanging
friendly
greetings
,
she
rode
up
to
them
.
Ilágin
lifted
his
beaver
cap
still
higher
to
Natásha
and
said
,
with
a
pleasant
smile
,
that
the
young
countess
resembled
Diana
in
her
passion
for
the
chase
as
well
as
in
her
beauty
,
of
which
he
had
heard
much
.
To
expiate
his
huntsman
's
offense
,
Ilágin
pressed
the
Rostóvs
to
come
to
an
upland
of
his
about
a
mile
away
which
he
usually
kept
for
himself
and
which
,
he
said
,
swarmed
with
hares
.
Nicholas
agreed
,
and
the
hunt
,
now
doubled
,
moved
on
.
The
way
to
Iligin
's
upland
was
across
the
fields
.
The
hunt
servants
fell
into
line
.
The
masters
rode
together
.
"
Uncle
,
"
Rostóv
,
and
Ilágin
kept
stealthily
glancing
at
one
another
's
dogs
,
trying
not
to
be
observed
by
their
companions
and
searching
uneasily
for
rivals
to
their
own
borzois
.
Rostóv
was
particularly
struck
by
the
beauty
of
a
small
,
pure-bred
,
red-spotted
bitch
on
Ilágin
's
leash
,
slender
but
with
muscles
like
steel
,
a
delicate
muzzle
,
and
prominent
black
eyes
.
He
had
heard
of
the
swiftness
of
Ilágin
's
borzois
,
and
in
that
beautiful
bitch
saw
a
rival
to
his
own
Mílka
.
