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Natásha
continued
to
lean
out
of
the
window
for
a
long
time
,
beaming
at
him
with
her
kindly
,
slightly
quizzical
,
happy
smile
.
For
the
last
two
days
,
ever
since
leaving
home
,
Pierre
had
been
living
in
the
empty
house
of
his
deceased
benefactor
,
Bazdéev
.
This
is
how
it
happened
.
When
he
woke
up
on
the
morning
after
his
return
to
Moscow
and
his
interview
with
Count
Rostopchín
,
he
could
not
for
some
time
make
out
where
he
was
and
what
was
expected
of
him
.
When
he
was
informed
that
among
others
awaiting
him
in
his
reception
room
there
was
a
Frenchman
who
had
brought
a
letter
from
his
wife
,
the
Countess
Hélène
,
he
felt
suddenly
overcome
by
that
sense
of
confusion
and
hopelessness
to
which
he
was
apt
to
succumb
.
He
felt
that
everything
was
now
at
an
end
,
all
was
in
confusion
and
crumbling
to
pieces
,
that
nobody
was
right
or
wrong
,
the
future
held
nothing
,
and
there
was
no
escape
from
this
position
.
Smiling
unnaturally
and
muttering
to
himself
,
he
first
sat
down
on
the
sofa
in
an
attitude
of
despair
,
then
rose
,
went
to
the
door
of
the
reception
room
and
peeped
through
the
crack
,
returned
flourishing
his
arms
,
and
took
up
a
book
.
His
major-domo
came
in
a
second
time
to
say
that
the
Frenchman
who
had
brought
the
letter
from
the
countess
was
very
anxious
to
see
him
if
only
for
a
minute
,
and
that
someone
from
Bazdéev
's
widow
had
called
to
ask
Pierre
to
take
charge
of
her
husband
's
books
,
as
she
herself
was
leaving
for
the
country
.
"
Oh
,
yes
,
in
a
minute
;
wait
...
or
no
!
No
,
of
course
...
go
and
say
I
will
come
directly
,
"
Pierre
replied
to
the
major-domo
.
But
as
soon
as
the
man
had
left
the
room
Pierre
took
up
his
hat
which
was
lying
on
the
table
and
went
out
of
his
study
by
the
other
door
.
There
was
no
one
in
the
passage
.
He
went
along
the
whole
length
of
this
passage
to
the
stairs
and
,
frowning
and
rubbing
his
forehead
with
both
hands
,
went
down
as
far
as
the
first
landing
.
The
hall
porter
was
standing
at
the
front
door
.
From
the
landing
where
Pierre
stood
there
was
a
second
staircase
leading
to
the
back
entrance
.
He
went
down
that
staircase
and
out
into
the
yard
.
No
one
had
seen
him
.
But
there
were
some
carriages
waiting
,
and
as
soon
as
Pierre
stepped
out
of
the
gate
the
coachmen
and
the
yard
porter
noticed
him
and
raised
their
caps
to
him
.
When
he
felt
he
was
being
looked
at
he
behaved
like
an
ostrich
which
hides
its
head
in
a
bush
in
order
not
to
be
seen
:
he
hung
his
head
and
quickening
his
pace
went
down
the
street
.
Of
all
the
affairs
awaiting
Pierre
that
day
the
sorting
of
Joseph
Bazdéev
's
books
and
papers
appeared
to
him
the
most
necessary
.
He
hired
the
first
cab
he
met
and
told
the
driver
to
go
to
the
Patriarch
's
Ponds
,
where
the
widow
Bazdéev
's
house
was
.
Continually
turning
round
to
look
at
the
rows
of
loaded
carts
that
were
making
their
way
from
all
sides
out
of
Moscow
,
and
balancing
his
bulky
body
so
as
not
to
slip
out
of
the
ramshackle
old
vehicle
,
Pierre
,
experiencing
the
joyful
feeling
of
a
boy
escaping
from
school
,
began
to
talk
to
his
driver
.
The
man
told
him
that
arms
were
being
distributed
today
at
the
Krémlin
and
that
tomorrow
everyone
would
be
sent
out
beyond
the
Three
Hills
gates
and
a
great
battle
would
be
fought
there
.
