.. she has come here and that daredevil
after her!" said Anna Mikhaylovna, wishing to show her sympathy for
Pierre, but by involuntary intonations and a half smile betraying her
sympathy for the "daredevil," as she called Dolokhov. "They say Pierre
is quite broken by his misfortune."

"Dear, dear! But still tell him to come to the Club--it will all blow
over. It will be a tremendous banquet."

Next day, the third of March, soon after one o'clock, two hundred and
fifty members of the English Club and fifty guests were awaiting the
guest of honor and hero of the Austrian campaign, Prince Bagration, to
dinner.

On the first arrival of the news of the battle of Austerlitz, Moscow had
been bewildered. At that time, the Russians were so used to victories
that on receiving news of the defeat some would simply not believe it,
while others sought some extraordinary explanation of so strange an
event. In the English Club, where all who were distinguished, important,
and well informed foregathered when the news began to arrive in
December, nothing was said about the war and the last battle, as
though all were in a conspiracy of silence. The men who set the tone in
conversation--Count Rostopchin, Prince Yuri Dolgorukov, Valuev, Count
Markov, and Prince Vyazemski--did not show themselves at the Club, but
met in private houses in intimate circles, and the Moscovites who took
their opinions from others--Ilya Rostov among them--remained for a
while without any definite opinion on the subject of the war and without
leaders. The Moscovites felt that something was wrong and that to
discuss the bad news was difficult, and so it was best to be silent.
But after a while, just as a jury comes out of its room, the bigwigs
who guided the Club's opinion reappeared, and everybody began speaking
clearly and definitely. Reasons were found for the incredible,
unheard-of, and impossible event of a Russian defeat, everything became
clear, and in all corners of Moscow the same things began to be
said. These reasons were the treachery of the Austrians, a defective
commissariat, the treachery of the Pole Przebyszewski and of the
Frenchman Langeron, Kutuzov's incapacity, and (it was whispered) the
youth and inexperience of the sovereign, who had trusted worthless and
insignificant people. But the army, the Russian army, everyone declared,
was extraordinary and had achieved miracles of valor. The soldiers,
officers, and generals were heroes. But the her