ophet's pride. "I always said he was the only man capable of defeating
Napoleon."

But next day no news arrived from the army and the public mood grew
anxious. The courtiers suffered because of the suffering the suspense
occasioned the Emperor.

"Fancy the Emperor's position!" said they, and instead of extolling
Kutuzov as they had done the day before, they condemned him as the cause
of the Emperor's anxiety. That day Prince Vasili no longer boasted of
his protege Kutuzov, but remained silent when the commander in chief was
mentioned. Moreover, toward evening, as if everything conspired to make
Petersburg society anxious and uneasy, a terrible piece of news was
added. Countess Helene Bezukhova had suddenly died of that terrible
malady it had been so agreeable to mention. Officially, at large
gatherings, everyone said that Countess Bezukhova had died of a
terrible attack of angina pectoris, but in intimate circles details
were mentioned of how the private physician of the Queen of Spain had
prescribed small doses of a certain drug to produce a certain effect;
but Helene, tortured by the fact that the old count suspected her and
that her husband to whom she had written (that wretched, profligate
Pierre) had not replied, had suddenly taken a very large dose of the
drug, and had died in agony before assistance could be rendered her.
It was said that Prince Vasili and the old count had turned upon the
Italian, but the latter had produced such letters from the unfortunate
deceased that they had immediately let the matter drop.

Talk in general centered round three melancholy facts: the Emperor's
lack of news, the loss of Kutuzov, and the death of Helene.

On the third day after Kutuzov's report a country gentleman arrived from
Moscow, and news of the surrender of Moscow to the French spread through
the whole town. This was terrible! What a position for the Emperor to
be in! Kutuzov was a traitor, and Prince Vasili during the visits of
condolence paid to him on the occasion of his daughter's death said of
Kutuzov, whom he had formerly praised (it was excusable for him in his
grief to forget what he had said), that it was impossible to expect
anything else from a blind and depraved old man.

"I only wonder that the fate of Russia could have been entrusted to such
a man."

As long as this news remained unofficial it was possible to doubt it,
but the next day the following communication was received from Count
Rostopchin: