master's apartment, and he hastened to say all that was necessary so as to get from under that ceiling, out into the open under the sky once more.
Having finished his inquiries and extorted from Daniel an opinion that the hounds were fit (Daniel himself wished to go hunting), Nicholas ordered the horses to be saddled. But just as Daniel was about to go Natásha came in with rapid steps, not having done up her hair or finished dressing and with her old nurse's big shawl wrapped round her. Pétya ran in at the same time.
“You are going?"asked Natásha. “I knew you would! Sónya said you wouldn't go, but I knew that today is the sort of day when you couldn't help going.”
“Yes, we are going,” replied. Nicholas reluctantly, for today, as he intended to hunt seriously, he did not want to take Natásha and Petya. “We are going, but only wolf hunting: it would be dull for you.”
“You know it is my greatest pleasure,” said Natásha. “It's not fair; you are going by yourself, are having the horses saddled and said nothing to us about it.”
“'No barrier bars a Russian's path'—we'll go!” shouted Pétya.
“But you can't. Mamma said you mustn't,” said Nicholas to Natásha.
“Yes, I'll go. I shall certainly go,” said Natásha decisively. “Daniel, tell them to saddle for us, and Michael must come with my dogs,” she added to the huntsman.
It seemed to Daniel irksome and improper to be in a room at all, but to have anything to do with a young lady seemed to him impossible. He cast down his eyes and hurried out as if it were none of his business, careful as he went not to inflict any accidental injury on the young lady.
CHAPTER IV
The old count, who had always kept up an enormous hunting establishment but had now handed it all completely over to his son's care, being in very good spirits on this fifteenth of September, prepared to go out with the others.
In an hour's time the whole hunting party was at the porch. Nicholas, with a stern and serious air which showed that now was no time for attending to trifles, went past Natásha and Pétya who were trying to tell him something. He had a look at all the details of the hunt, sent a pack of hounds and huntsmen on ahead to find the quarry, mounted his chestnut Donéts, and whistling to his own leash of borzois, set off across the threshing ground to a field leading to the Otrádnoe wood. The old count's horse, a sorrel gelding called Viflkyánka, was led by the groom in attendance on him, while the count himself was to drive in a small trap straight to a spot reserved for him.
They were taking fifty-four hounds, with six hunt attendants and whippers-in. Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen and more than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leash belonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred and thirty dogs and twenty horsemen.
Each dog knew its master and its call. Each man in the hunt knew his business, his place, and what he had to do. As soon as they had passed the fence they all spread out evenly and quietly, without noise or talk, along the road and field leading to the Otrádnoe covert.
The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now and then splashing into puddles as they crossed a road. The misty sky still seemed to descend evenly and imperceptibly toward the earth, the air was still, warm, and silent. Occasionally the whistle of a huntsman, the snort of a horse, the crack of a whip, or the whine of a straggling hound could be heard.
When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riders with dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostóvs. In front rode a fresh-looking, handsome old man with a large gray mustache.
“Good morning, Uncle!” said Nicholas, when the old man drew near.
“That's it. Come on!. . . I was sure of it,” began “Uncle.” (He was a distant relative of the Rostóvs', a man of small means, and their neighbor.) “I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a good thing you're going. That's it! Come on!” (This was “Uncle's” favorite expression.) “Take the covert at once, for my Gírchik says the Llágins are at Kornikí with their hounds. That's it. Come on!. . . They'll take the cubs from under your very nose.”
“That's where I'm going. Shall we join up our packs?” asked Nicholas.
The hounds were joined into one pack, and “Uncle” and Nicholas rode on side by side. Natásha, muffled up in shawls which did not hide her eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them. She was followed by Pétya who always kept close to her, by Michael, a huntsman, and by a groom appointed to look after her. Pétya, who was laughing, whipped and pulled at his horse. Natásha sat easily and confidently on
