‘Yes, I usually do, flat fields, here, anywhere,’ answered Rostov, stroking and patting his foaming Don horse.
‘I could have won on my Frenchy, your Excellency,’ Lavrushka called from well back, referring to his own miserable nag, more suited to hauling carriages, ‘but I didn’t want to embarrass you.’
They slowed to a walking pace and made their way towards a big crowd of peasants standing in front of a barn. Some of them doffed their caps; others, who didn’t, just stared as they rode up. Two spindly old peasants with wrinkled faces and thin beards emerged from the tavern with grins all over their faces, staggering about and singing out of tune, and they came over towards the officers. ‘Good boys, these!’ said Rostov with a laugh. ‘Hey there, have you got any hay?’
‘Two peas in a pod,’ said Ilyin.
‘Verree merree-ee-ee . . . !’ they intoned, beaming beatifically.
One peasant detached himself from the crowd and came across to Rostov.
‘Oose side be you on?’ asked the peasant.
‘The French,’ answered Ilyin with a laugh. ‘And this here is Napoleon,’ he said, pointing to Lavrushka.
‘So, you be Russians then?’ the peasant inquired.
‘You got many men ’ere?’ asked another stocky peasant, making his way over.
‘Yes, plenty,’ answered Rostov. ‘But what are you all doing here?’ he added. ‘Some kind of holiday?’
‘ ’Tis the old ’uns. Village business,’ answered the peasant, edging away.
At that moment two women appeared with a man in a white hat, walking down from the prince’s house towards the officers.
‘The pink one’s mine. Hands off!’ said Ilyin, with an eye on Dunyasha, who was striding purposefully in their direction.
‘Do for us!’ said Lavrushka, winking at Ilyin.
‘What can I do for you, gorgeous?’ said Ilyin with a grin.
‘The princess has sent me. Her Excellency wishes to know what regiment you are from, and who you are.’
‘This is Count Rostov, squadron commander, and I am – your humble servant.’
‘Merree bee-ee-ee!’ warbled the drunken peasant with the blissful grin, staring across at Ilyin as he chatted to the girl. Just behind Dunyasha Alpatych doffed his hat to Rostov as he drew near.
‘Begging your pardon, your Honour,’ he said, putting one hand in his coat-front and speaking with deference tinged with contempt for the officer’s youthfulness. ‘My mistress, the daughter of General-in-Chief Prince Nikolay Andreich Bolkonsky, who died on the 15th of this month, finding herself in some difficulty through the stupid ignorance of these persons’ – he nodded towards the peasants – ‘invites you into the house . . . If you wouldn’t mind coming this way, sir,’ said Alpatych with a sad smile. ‘It’s not far, and out here things are not quite, er . . .’ Alpatych nodded to the two peasants, who were hovering at his back like gadflies round a horse.
‘Garn, Alpatych! . . . Hey, Yakov Alpatych! You all right then? Oops, for Jesus Christ’s sake, sorry old boy. You all right?’ cried the peasants beaming at him with sublime delight.
Rostov looked at the drunken peasants and gave a smile.
‘Unless your Excellency finds this amusing?’ said Yakov Alpatych with grave sobriety, pointing to the old peasants with his free hand.
‘No, it’s not very amusing,’ said Rostov, and he moved his horse along. ‘What’s wrong exactly?’ he inquired.
‘Begging your pardon, sir, these peasant brutes here won’t let their mistress off the estate. They keep threatening to unharness the horses. Everything has been packed since early morning, but her Excellency can’t get away.’
‘Impossible!’ cried Rostov.
‘I’m telling you the absolute truth, sir, and it’s an honour to do so,’ said Alpatych.
Rostov dismounted, handed his horse to the orderly and walked up to the house with Alpatych, asking for further deatils.
In point of fact, the princess’s offer of grain and her confrontation with Dron and the deputation of peasants had brought things to such a pitch that Dron had finally handed in his keys and gone over to the peasants, refusing to turn up when Alpatych sent for him, and that morning when the princess had ordered the horses so they could get on the road, the peasants had held a big meeting outside the barn and sent word that they were not going to let the princess out of the village, and there was an edict that people were not to move out, so they would have to unharness the horses. Alpatych went to have things out with them; they responded (Karp being the principal speaker, with Dron skulking at the back of the crowd) by stating that the princess would not be allowed through, there was an edict forbidding it, so she should stay on and they would serve and obey in all things as they always had done.
