The day after his initiation into the lodge Pierre was sitting at home reading a book and trying to fathom the significance of a square whose four sides symbolized God, morality, the physical world and unity through combination. Now and again he turned away from the book and the symbolic square to work out a new life plan in his imagination. The previous day he had been told at the lodge that word of his duel had reached the Emperor’s ears, and it would be more sensible for him to leave Petersburg for a while. Pierre was thinking of going down to his southern estates and doing something for his serfs. He was dreaming blissfully of this new life when in walked Prince Vasily.
‘My dear fellow, what have you been up to in Moscow? What’s all this falling out with Hélène, dear boy? You’ve been getting it all wrong,’ said Prince Vasily, as he came into the room. ‘I’ve heard about it. I can assure you that Hélène is as blameless towards you as Christ was before the Jews.’
Pierre was about to respond but he went on.
‘Now why didn’t you just come and talk to me, treat me like a friend? I know all about it. I know what’s going on,’ he said. ‘You have behaved quite properly for a man of honour, a bit hastily perhaps, but we won’t go into that. There’s one thing you must think about, though – where does this leave her and me in the eyes of society – and even the court?’ he added, lowering his voice. ‘She’s down in Moscow and you’re up here. Things have gone far enough, dear boy.’ He drew him down by the arm. ‘This is just a little misunderstanding, I’m sure you agree. Now why don’t we sit down and write a letter, and she’ll come up here, we can have things out and all the gossip will stop . . . Otherwise, my dear boy, to be quite candid, you might live to regret it.’
Prince Vasily gave Pierre a knowing look.
‘I’ve learned from excellent sources that the Dowager Empress is taking a keen interest in this business. You know she is very graciously disposed towards Hélène.’
Several times Pierre had been on the point of replying, but, for one thing, Prince Vasily kept interrupting and wouldn’t let him, and in any case Pierre was worried about striking the wrong note of final refusal, determined as he was to deny his father-in-law. Beyond that, he couldn’t get yesterday’s masonic precept out of his head: ‘Be thou kindly and courteous.’ He blinked and blushed, got to his feet and flopped down again, trying to force himself to do what he found hardest – say something unpleasant to a man’s face, something he wasn’t expecting, whoever he might be. He had become so used to complying with that offhand tone of authority which Prince Vasily affected that even now he felt he might not be able to resist it. But at the same time he sensed that his whole future would depend on what he said now, determining whether he would continue down the old path or start along the new one that the masons had shown to be so attractive, and that he was convinced would lead him towards self-regeneration and a new life.
‘Come on, dear boy,’ said Prince Vasily, full of good humour, ‘just say yes, I’ll do the writing, and then we’ll kill the fatted calf.’ But before Prince Vasily could finish his little joke, Pierre’s face lit up with a fury all too reminiscent of his father, and without looking him in the eye he breathed out in a soft whisper, ‘Prince, I did not invite you here. Go away. Please go away!’ He leapt up and opened the door for him. ‘Go away!’ he repeated, amazed at himself and much enjoying the embarrassment and dismay written all over Prince Vasily’s face.
‘What’s wrong with you? Are you ill?’
‘Go away!’ came the quavering voice once more. And Prince Vasily had to go, without a word of explanation.
A week later Pierre said goodbye to his new masonic friends, leaving them large sums of money for alms, and set off for his estates. His new brethren had given him letters addressed to masons in Kiev and Odessa, and they promised to write to him and guide him in his new way of life.
CHAPTER 6
