ging but had not yet come into the drawing
room.

"On my word, I don't know what I've done with it," he said.

"There he is, always losing everything!" remarked the countess.

Natasha entered with a softened and agitated expression of face and
sat down looking silently at Pierre. As soon as she entered, Pierre's
features, which had been gloomy, suddenly lighted up, and while still
searching for the papers he glanced at her several times.

"No, really! I'll drive home, I must have left them there. I'll
certainly..."

"But you'll be late for dinner."

"Oh! And my coachman has gone."

But Sonya, who had gone to look for the papers in the anteroom, had
found them in Pierre's hat, where he had carefully tucked them under the
lining. Pierre was about to begin reading.

"No, after dinner," said the old count, evidently expecting much
enjoyment from that reading.

At dinner, at which champagne was drunk to the health of the new
chevalier of St. George, Shinshin told them the town news, of the
illness of the old Georgian princess, of Metivier's disappearance from
Moscow, and of how some German fellow had been brought to Rostopchin
and accused of being a French "spyer" (so Count Rostopchin had told the
story), and how Rostopchin let him go and assured the people that he was
"not a spire at all, but only an old German ruin."

"People are being arrested..." said the count. "I've told the countess
she should not speak French so much. It's not the time for it now."

"And have you heard?" Shinshin asked. "Prince Golitsyn has engaged a
master to teach him Russian. It is becoming dangerous to speak French in
the streets."

"And how about you, Count Peter Kirilych? If they call up the militia,
you too will have to mount a horse," remarked the old count, addressing
Pierre.

Pierre had been silent and preoccupied all through dinner, seeming not
to grasp what was said. He looked at the count.

"Oh yes, the war," he said. "No! What sort of warrior should I make? And
yet everything is so strange, so strange! I can't make it out. I don't
know, I am very far from having military tastes, but in these times no
one can answer for himself."

After dinner the count settled himself comfortably in an easy chair and
with a serious face asked Sonya, who was considered an excellent reader,
to read the appeal.

"To Moscow, our ancient Capital!

"The enemy has entered the borders of Russia with immense forces. He
comes to despoil o