War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [50]
The princess, with her dry and straight waist, incongruously long for her legs, looked straight and passionlessly at the prince with her prominent gray eyes. She shook her head and, sighing, turned to look at the icons. Her gesture could have been interpreted either as an expression of sorrow and devotion, or as an expression of weariness and hope for a speedy repose. Prince Vassily interpreted this gesture as an expression of weariness.
“And do you think it’s any easier for me?” he said. “Je suis éreinté comme un cheval de poste;†120 but all the same I must talk with you, Catiche, and very seriously.”
Prince Vassily fell silent, and his cheeks began to twitch nervously now on one side, now on the other, giving his face an unpleasant expression which never appeared on Prince Vassily’s face when he was in a drawing room. His eyes were also not the same as usual: now they looked with insolent jocularity, now they glanced around fearfully.
The princess, holding the dog on her lap with her dry, thin hands, looked attentively into Prince Vassily’s eyes; but it was evident that she would not break the silence with a question, even if she had to remain silent till morning.
“So you see, my dear princess and cousin, Katerina Semyonovna,” Prince Vassily continued, evidently getting himself to continue his talk only after an inner struggle, “at moments like this, it is necessary to think of everything. It is necessary to think of the future, of you…I love you all like my own children, you know that.”
The princess went on looking at him just as dully and fixedly.
“Finally, it is necessary to think of my family, too,” Prince Vassily continued, angrily pushing a little table away and without looking at her. “You know, Catiche, that you three Mamontov sisters, and my wife as well—we are the count’s only direct heirs. I know, I know how hard it is for you to speak and think about such things. It’s no easier for me; but I’m over fifty, my friend, I must be ready for anything. Do you know that I have sent for Pierre, and that the count, pointing directly at his portrait, demanded that he come?”
Prince Vassily looked questioningly at the princess, but could not tell whether she was considering what he had said to her, or was simply staring at him…
“There’s one thing for which I never cease praying to God, mon cousin,” she replied, “that He have mercy on him and grant that his beautiful soul peacefully depart this…”
“Yes, that’s right,” Prince Vassily went on impatiently, rubbing his bald head and angrily seizing the little table he had pushed away and moving it towards him again, “but, finally…finally, the thing is, as you know yourself, that last winter the count wrote a will according to which, passing over his direct heirs and us, he bequeathed all his property to Pierre.”
“He has written all sorts of wills,” the princess said calmly, “but he cannot bequeath anything to Pierre! Pierre is illegitimate.”
“But, ma chère,” Prince Vassily said suddenly, clutching the little table to him, becoming animated, and beginning to speak more quickly, “what if a letter had been written to the sovereign and the count had asked to adopt Pierre? You understand, given the count’s merits, his request would be granted…”
The princess smiled as people smile who think they know more about a matter than those they are talking with.
“I’ll tell you more,” Prince Vassily went on, gripping her hand. “The letter has been written, though not sent, and the sovereign knows of it. The only question is whether it has been destroyed or not. If not, then as soon as it’s all over,” Prince Vassily sighed, letting it be understood what he meant by the words all over, “and the count’s papers are opened, the will and the letter will be sent to the sovereign, and his request will most likely be granted. As a legitimate son, Pierre will get everything.”
“And our share?” asked the princess, smiling ironically, as if anything but that could happen.
“Mais, ma pauvre Catiche, c’est clair comme le jour.*121 He alone is then the legitimate heir to