Читаем War And Peace полностью

‘Seven new, three old.’

‘Well, don’t just stand there like a big wag doll! Bwing in the quartermaster!’ Denisov shouted to Lavrushka.

‘Denisov, please, here’s some money. I’ve got plenty,’ said Rostov, reddening.

‘I don’t like bowwowing from fwiends. I weally don’t,’ growled Denisov.

‘But if you won’t accept money from me – a comrade – I’ll be offended. I’ve really got plenty,’ repeated Rostov.

‘Oh no.’ And Denisov went over to the bed to get the purse out from under the pillow.

‘Where did you put it, Wostov?’

‘Under the bottom pillow.’

‘Well it’s not there.’ Denisov threw both the pillows down on to the floor. No purse. ‘Well, I’m blessed!’

‘Hang on, you must have dropped it,’ said Rostov, picking the pillows up one at a time and shaking them. He pulled the quilt off and shook it out. Still no purse.

‘Have I forgotten something? No, I remember thinking you’d be sleeping on a secret treasure,’ said Rostov. ‘I did put the purse there. Where’s it gone?’ He turned to Lavrushka.

‘I was never in the room. It must be where you put it.’

‘Well, it isn’t.’

‘That’s you all over, thwowing things about and forgetting where they are. Look in your pockets.’

‘No, if I hadn’t thought of it like a secret treasure . . .’ said Rostov, ‘but I do remember where I put it.’

Lavrushka rummaged through the whole bed, looked underneath it and under the table, rummaged through the entire room and then stood still in the middle of it. Denisov followed Lavrushka’s movements in silence, and when Lavrushka spread his hands in amazement to show that it was nowhere to be found, he looked round at Rostov.

‘Wostov, is this one of your widiculous schoolboy jokes?’

Rostov could sense Denisov glaring at him; he glanced up and then rapidly down again. All the blood in his body seemed to have been blocked somewhere just below the throat, and it rushed to his face and eyes. He could hardly get his breath.

‘And no one’s been in the room, nobbut the lieutenant and yourselves. It’s got to be here somewhere,’ said Lavrushka.

‘Wight then, damn you. Move yourself! Find it!’ Denisov yelled suddenly, turning purple and rushing at the valet with a menacing gesture. ‘Find that purse, or I’ll have you flogged! The lot of you!’

Studiously avoiding Denisov’s eyes, Rostov began buttoning up his jacket, fastening on his sword and putting on his cap.

‘I’m telling you that pocket-book has got to be here!’ roared Denisov, shaking the orderly by the shoulders and banging him against the wall.

‘Denisov, leave him alone. I know who’s taken it,’ said Rostov, heading for the door without looking up.

Denisov paused, thought for a moment and seemed to get Rostov’s drift. He seized him by the arm.

‘Oh, wubbish, Wostov!’ he roared, the veins standing out like cords on his neck and forehead. ‘I’m telling you, you’re cwazy. No, I won’t let you . . . That pocket-book is here somewhere. I’ll flay this wogue alive, then it’ll turn up.’

‘I know who has taken it,’ repeated Rostov, in a tremulous voice, and went to the door.

‘And I’m telling you – don’t you dare . . .’ cried Denisov, hurtling after the ensign to hold him back. But Rostov freed his arm, looked up straight into his eyes and glared at Denisov with the kind of fury you reserve for your worst enemy.

‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ he said in a quavering voice. ‘I’m the only person who’s been in that room. So, if it’s not there, you think . . .’

Lost for words, he fled from the room.

‘Oh, damn you! And all the west of you!’ were the last words Rostov heard.

Rostov went over to Telyanin’s quarters.

‘The master’s not in, he’s gone over to HQ,’ Telyanin’s orderly told him. ‘Has something happened?’ the orderly added, taken aback by the ensign’s worried face.

‘No, nothing’s happened.’

‘You’ve only just missed him,’ said the orderly.

The headquarters were nearly two miles from Salzeneck. Rostov took his horse and rode there without calling in at his own quarters. In the village which the staff had taken over there was an inn much frequented by the officers. Rostov went there. Telyanin’s horse was at the door.

In the second room the lieutenant was sitting at a table with a dish of sausage and a bottle of wine before him.

‘Oh, so you’ve come here too, young man,’ he said, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

‘Yes, I have.’ Rostov seemed to force the words out with a great effort. He sat down at the next table.

Neither man spoke. There were two Germans and a Russian officer in the room. Silence reigned, the only sounds being the scraping of knives on plates and the lieutenant munching away. When Telyanin had finished his meal, he took out a double-sided purse, parted the rings with the curved tips of his tiny white fingers, took out a gold coin, raised his eyebrows and handed the money to the waiter.

‘I’d be glad if you would hurry,’ he said.

It was a new gold coin. Rostov got up and went over to Telyanin.

‘Please let me look at that purse,’ he said, his voice barely audible.

With shifty eyes, and eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed over the purse.