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A
middle-aged
man
,
handsome
and
virile
,
in
the
uniform
of
a
retired
naval
officer
,
was
speaking
in
one
of
the
rooms
,
and
a
small
crowd
was
pressing
round
him
.
Pierre
went
up
to
the
circle
that
had
formed
round
the
speaker
and
listened
.
Count
Ilyá
Rostóv
,
in
a
military
uniform
of
Catherine
's
time
,
was
sauntering
with
a
pleasant
smile
among
the
crowd
,
with
all
of
whom
he
was
acquainted
.
He
too
approached
that
group
and
listened
with
a
kindly
smile
and
nods
of
approval
,
as
he
always
did
,
to
what
the
speaker
was
saying
.
The
retired
naval
man
was
speaking
very
boldly
,
as
was
evident
from
the
expression
on
the
faces
of
the
listeners
and
from
the
fact
that
some
people
Pierre
knew
as
the
meekest
and
quietest
of
men
walked
away
disapprovingly
or
expressed
disagreement
with
him
.
Pierre
pushed
his
way
into
the
middle
of
the
group
,
listened
,
and
convinced
himself
that
the
man
was
indeed
a
liberal
,
but
of
views
quite
different
from
his
own
.
The
naval
officer
spoke
in
a
particularly
sonorous
,
musical
,
and
aristocratic
baritone
voice
,
pleasantly
swallowing
his
r
's
and
generally
slurring
his
consonants
:
the
voice
of
a
man
calling
out
to
his
servant
,
"
Heah
!
Bwing
me
my
pipe
!
"
It
was
indicative
of
dissipation
and
the
exercise
of
authority
.
"
What
if
the
Smolénsk
people
have
offahd
to
waise
militia
for
the
Empewah
?
Ah
we
to
take
Smolénsk
as
our
patte
'n
?
If
the
noble
awistocwacy
of
the
pwovince
of
Moscow
thinks
fit
,
it
can
show
its
loyalty
to
our
sov
'
weign
the
Empewah
in
other
ways
.
Have
we
fo
'
gotten
the
waising
of
the
militia
in
the
yeah
'
seven
?
All
that
did
was
to
enwich
the
pwiests
'
sons
and
thieves
and
wobbahs
...
"
Count
Ilyá
Rostóv
smiled
blandly
and
nodded
approval
.
"
And
was
our
militia
of
any
use
to
the
Empia
?
Not
at
all
!
It
only
wuined
our
farming
!
Bettah
have
another
conscwiption
...
o
'
ou
'
men
will
wetu
'n
neithah
soldiers
no
'
peasants
,
and
we
'll
get
only
depwavity
fwom
them
.
The
nobility
do
n't
gwudge
theah
lives
--
evewy
one
of
us
will
go
and
bwing
in
more
wecwuits
,
and
the
sov
'
weign
"
(
that
was
the
way
he
referred
to
the
Emperor
)
"
need
only
say
the
word
and
we
'll
all
die
fo
'
him
!
"
added
the
orator
with
animation
.
Count
Rostóv
's
mouth
watered
with
pleasure
and
he
nudged
Pierre
,
but
Pierre
wanted
to
speak
himself
.
He
pushed
forward
,
feeling
stirred
,
but
not
yet
sure
what
stirred
him
or
what
he
would
say
.
Scarcely
had
he
opened
his
mouth
when
one
of
the
senators
,
a
man
without
a
tooth
in
his
head
,
with
a
shrewd
though
angry
expression
,
standing
near
the
first
speaker
,
interrupted
him
.
Evidently
accustomed
to
managing
debates
and
to
maintaining
an
argument
,
he
began
in
low
but
distinct
tones
:
"
I
imagine
,
sir
,
"
said
he
,
mumbling
with
his
toothless
mouth
,
"
that
we
have
been
summoned
here
not
to
discuss
whether
it
's
best
for
the
empire
at
the
present
moment
to
adopt
conscription
or
to
call
out
the
militia
.
We
have
been
summoned
to
reply
to
the
appeal
with
which
our
sovereign
the
Emperor
has
honored
us
.
But
to
judge
what
is
best
--
conscription
or
the
militia
--
we
can
leave
to
the
supreme
authority
...
"
Pierre
suddenly
saw
an
outlet
for
his
excitement
.
He
hardened
his
heart
against
the
senator
who
was
introducing
this
set
and
narrow
attitude
into
the
deliberations
of
the
nobility
.
Pierre
stepped
forward
and
interrupted
him
.
He
himself
did
not
yet
know
what
he
would
say
,
but
he
began
to
speak
eagerly
,
occasionally
lapsing
into
French
or
expressing
himself
in
bookish
Russian
.
"
Excuse
me
,
your
excellency
,
"
he
began
.
