Princess Marya pictured vividly to herself Mademoiselle Bourienne’s position, estranged from her of late, though dependent on her, and living among strangers. And she felt sorry for her. She looked at her in gentle inquiry and held out her hand to her. Mademoiselle Bourienne at once began kissing her hand with tears and talking of the princess’s sorrow, making herself a partner in that sorrow. She said that her only consolation in her sorrow was that the princess permitted her to share it with her. She said that all their former misunderstandings must sink into nothing before their great sorrow: that she felt herself guiltless in regard to every one, and that he from above saw her love and gratitude. The princess heard her without heeding her words, though she looked at her now and then and listened to the sound of her voice.
‘Your position is doubly dreadful, dear princess,’ said Mademoiselle Bourienne. ‘I know you could not and cannot think of yourself; but with my love for you I am bound to do so. . . . Has Alpatitch been with you? Has he spoken to you of moving?’ she asked.
Princess Marya did not answer. She did not understand who was to move and where. ‘Was it possible to undertake anything now, to think of anything? Could anything matter?’ she wondered. She made no reply.
‘Do you know, chere Marie,’ said Mademoiselle Bourienne, ‘that we are in danger, that we are surrounded by the French; it is dangerous to move now. If we move, we are almost certain to be taken prisoner, and God knows . . .’
Princess Marya looked at her companion, with no notion what she was saying.
‘Oh, if any one knew how little anything matters to me now,’ she said. ‘Of course, I would not on any account move away from him . . . Alpatitch said something about going away. . . . You talk to him . . . I can’t do anything, and I don’t want . . .’
‘I have been talking to him. He hopes that we may manage to get away to-morrow: but I think it would be better now to remain here,’ said Mademoiselle Bourienne. ‘Because you will agree, chere Marie, that to fall
bS4 WAR AND PEACE
into the hands of the soldiers or of rioting peasants on the road would be awful.’
Mademoiselle Bourienne took out of her reticule a document, not on the usual Russian paper. It was the proclamation of General Rameau, announcing that protection would be given by the French commanders to all inhabitants who did not abandon their homes. She handed it to the princess.
‘I imagine the best thing would be to appeal to this general,’ said Mademoiselle Bourienne. 'I am convinced that all proper respect would be shown you.’
Princess Marya read the document and her face worked with tearless sobs.
‘Through whom did you get this?' she asked.
‘They probably found out I was French from my name,’ said Mademoiselle Bourienne. flushing.
With the proclamation in her hand. Princess Marya got up from the window, and with a pale face walked out of the room into Prince Andrey’s former study.
‘Dunyasha! send Alpatitch to me. Dronushka, or somebody!’ said Princess Mama. ‘Ana tell Amalya Karlovna not to come to me.’ she added, hearing Mademoiselle Bourienne’s voice. ‘To set off at once! as quick as possible!’ said Princess Marya, appalled at the idea that she might be left in the power of the French.
‘That Prince Andrey should know that she was in the power of the French! That she. the daughter of Prince Nikolay Andreitch Bolkonsky, should stoop to ask General Rameau to grant her his protection, and should take advantage of his good offices.’ The idea appalled her, made her shudder and turn crimson. She felt a rush of vindictive wrath and pride of which she had had no conception. Ml the bitterness, and still more the humiliation of her position rose vividly to her imagination. 'They, the French, would take up their quarters in the house: M, le General Rameau would occupy Prince Andrey s study; would amuse himself by looking through and reading his letters and papers: Mademoiselle Bourienne would do the honours of Bogutcharovo; I should be given a room as a favour: the soldiers would break open my father’s newly dug grave to take his crosses and decorations; they would tell me of their victories over the Russians, would affect hypocritical sympathy with my grief, . . .’ thought Princess Marya, thinking not the thoughts natural to her, but feeling it a duty to think as her father and brother would have done. To her personally it did not matter where she stayed and what happened to i her, but, at the same time, she felt herself the representative of her dead father and Prince Andrey. Unconsciously she thought their thoughts and felt their feelings. What they would have said, what they would have done j now, she felt it incumbent upon her to do. She went into Prince Andrey s study, and trying to enter completely into his ideas, thought over her situation.
The exigencies of life, which she had regarded as of no consequence
