Well, is she pretty? Ah, friend, my pink one is delicious; her name is Dunyasha. On glancing at Rostov's face Ilyin stops short. His hero and commander is following a different train of thought. Rostov glances angrily and without replying strides toward the village. I'll show them, the brigands. Alpatych at a gliding trot barely keeps up. What decision have you been pleased to come to? Rostov clenches his fists. Old dotard! The peasants are rioting and you can't manage them? You're a traitor yourself. I'll flay you all alive. Alpatych, mastering offence, says the peasants are obdurate and it would be imprudent to overresist them without an armed force. I'll give them armed force. Breathless with irrational fury, Rostov moves toward the crowd. The nearer he draws, the more Alpatych feels this unreasonable action may produce good results. The peasants are similarly impressed by his rapid steps and frowning face.
After the hussars came, confusion arose. Some said the new arrivals were Russians and might take it amiss that the mistress was detained. Dron was of that opinion. Karp attacked him: How many years have you been fattening on the commune? You'll dig up your pot of money. We have been told to keep order, no one is to leave or take away a grain. A little old man: It was your son's turn to be conscripted; they took my Vanka. Dron says he is not against the commune. Karp thrusts fingers into his belt and smiles to the front. Dron retires. Who is your Elder here? Hey? Karp begins to ask what he wants with him. Before the words are out, his cap flies off and a fierce blow jerks his head. Caps off, traitors! Where's the Elder? Meek voices call Dron Zakharych. Caps come off. We don't riot, we're following the orders. Rostov, in a voice not his own, grips Karp by the collar. Bind him! There is no one to bind him but Lavrushka and Alpatych. Lavrushka seizes Karp from behind and calls, Shall I call up our men from beyond the hill? Alpatych names two peasants to bind Karp. They take off their belts. Dron steps out, pale. Bind him, Lavrushka! Two more peasants bind Dron, who takes off his own belt as if to aid them. Be off to your houses, and don't let one of your voices be heard. Why, we've not done any harm. We did it just out of foolishness. Alpatych comes into his own: It's wrong, lads. All our stupidity, Yakov Alpatych. The crowd disperses. The two bound men are led to the master's house. Two hours later carts stand in the courtyard. Peasants pack the proprietor's goods. Dron, liberated at Mary's wish from the cupboard, directs them. Don't chuck a casket under the cord. Books, books. They worked all day and didn't play, says a peasant, winking at the dictionaries.
Unwilling to obtrude, Rostov remains in the village. When her carriage drives out he accompanies her eight miles to where the road is occupied by our troops. At the inn at Yankovo he takes leave, for the first time permitting himself to kiss her hand. How can you speak so, he blushingly replies to her thanks for her deliverance. Any police officer would have done as much. If we had had only peasants to fight, we should not have let the enemy come so far. He is only happy to have made her acquaintance, wishes her consolation, and asks her not to make him blush. She thanks him with her whole face, radiant with tenderness. She cannot believe there is nothing to thank him for. Had he not been there she would have perished at the hands of mutineers and of the French. His kind eyes, with tears when she spoke of her loss, do not leave her memory. Alone, she asks not for the first time: does she love him? On the way to Moscow Dunyasha notices her lean out and smile with mingled joy and sorrow. Well, supposing I do love him? Ashamed to have fallen in love with a man who will perhaps never love her, she comforts herself that no one will ever know, and that she will not be to blame if she loves to the end of her life the man she has fallen in love with for the first and last time. Sometimes happiness does not appear impossible. Was it not fate that brought him to Bogucharovo at that moment, and that caused his sister to refuse my brother? She sees the hand of Providence. The impression on Rostov is agreeable. When comrades rally him on looking for hay and picking up one of the wealthiest heiresses in Russia, he grows angry, because the idea of marrying gentle Princess Mary, attractive and with an enormous fortune, has against his will more than once entered his head. For himself he could not wish a better wife: he would make the countess his mother happy, put his father's affairs in order, and even, he feels, ensure Mary's happiness. But Sonya? And his plighted word? That is why he grows angry when rallied about Princess Bolkonskaya.
