once, irritably (as if Boris were to blame in some way) telling him about Denísov's affair, asking him whether, through his general, he could and would intercede with the Emperor on Denísov's behalf and get Denísov's petition handed in. When he and Boris were alone, Rostóv felt for the first time that he could not look Boris in the face without a sense of awkwardness. Boris, with one leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender fingers of his right, listened to Rostóv as a general listens to the report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight into Rostóv's eyes with the same veiled look. Each time this happened Rostóv felt uncomfortable and cast down his eyes.
"I have heard of such cases and know that His Majesty is very severe in such affairs. I think it would be best not to bring it before the Emperor, but to apply to the commander of the corps. . . . But in general, I think . . ."
"So you don't want to do anything? Well then, say so!" Rostóv almost shouted, not looking Boris in the face. Boris smiled.
"On the contrary, I will do what I can. Only I thought . . ."
At that moment Zhilínski's voice was heard calling Boris.
"Well then, go, go, go . . ." said Rostóv, and refusing supper and remaining alone in the little room, he walked up and down for a long time, hearing the lighthearted French conversation from the next room.
CHAPTER XX
Rostóv had come to Tilsit on the day least suitable for a petition on Denísov's behalf. He could not himself go to the general in attendance as he was in mufti and had come to Tilsit without permission to do so, and Boris, even had he wished to, could not have done so on the following day. On that day, June 27, the preliminaries of peace were signed. The Emperors exchanged decorations: Alexander received the Cross of the Legion of Honor and Napoleon the Order of St. Andrew of the First Degree, and a dinner had been arranged for the evening, given by a battalion of the French Guards to the Preobrazhdnsk battalion. The Emperors were to be present at that banquet. Rostóv felt so ill at ease and uncomfortable with Boris that, when the latter looked in after supper, he pretended to be asleep, and early next morning went away, avoiding Boris. In his civilian clothes and a round hat, he wandered about the town, staring at the French and their uniforms and at the streets and houses where the Russian and French Emperors were staying. In a square he saw tables being set up and preparations made for the dinner; he saw the Russian and French colors draped from side to side of the streets, with hugh monograms A and AT. In the windows of the houses also flags and bunting were displayed. "Boris doesn't want to help me and I don't want to ask him. That's settled," thought Nicholas. "All is over between us, but I won't leave here without having done all I can for Denísov and certainly not without getting his letter to the Emperor. The Emperor! . . . He is here!" thought Rostóv, who had unconsciously returned to the house where Alexander lodged. Saddled horses were standing before the house and the suite were assembling, evidently preparing for the Emperor to come out.
"I may see him at any moment," thought Rostóv. "If only I were to hand the letter direct to him and tell him all ... could they really arrest me for my civilian clothes? Surely not! He would understand on whose side justice lies.
He understands everything, knows everything. Who can be more just, more magnanimous than he? And even if they did arrest me for being here, what would it matter?" thought he, looking at an officer who was entering the house the Emperor occupied. "After all, people do go in. ... It's all nonsense! I'll go in and hand the letter to the Emperor myself, so much the worse for Drubetsk6y who drives me to it!" And suddenly with a determination he himself did not expect, Rostóv felt for the letter in his pocket and went straight to the house.
"No, I won't miss my opportunity now, as I did after Austerlitz," he thought, expecting every moment to meet the monarch, and conscious of the blood that rushed to his heart at the thought. "I will fall at his feet and beseech him. He will lift me up, will listen, and will even thank me. 'I am happy when I can do good, but to remedy injustice is the greatest happiness,' " Rostóv fancied the sovereign saying. And passing people who looked after him with curiosity, he entered the porch of the Emperor's house.
A broad staircase led straight up from the entry, and to the right he saw a closed door.
Below, under the staircase, was a door leading to the lower floor.
"Whom do you want?" someone inquired.
"To hand in a letter, a petition, to His Majesty," said Nicholas, with a tremor in his voice.
