The Count permits wounded soldiers to ride in their carts, and will leave the family valuables behind. The Countess is upset. If they lose their house and valuable property, her children will have nothing.
The Count permits wounded soldiers to ride in their carts, and will leave the family valuables behind. The Countess is upset. If they lose their house and valuable property, her children will have nothing.
Book 11, Chapter 15
The Count permits wounded soldiers to ride in their carts, and will leave the family valuables behind. The Countess is upset. If they lose their house and valuable property, her children will have nothing.
Summary:
Moscow’s last day had come. Church bells everywhere were ringing for service. Nobody seemed yet to realize what awaited the city. The only two observable changes are the mobs of peasants in the streets and the quickly skyrocketing prices of commodities. The Rostóv’s valuables are at last packed and loaded, and the carts are ready to leave. But wounded soldiers begin to beg the Count for transport. The patriotic and kind-hearted Count cannot refuse the desperate soldiers. He orders the servants to make room for any wounded soldiers who request a ride. The servants begin to unload the carts, as more wounded soldiers arrive requesting transport. When the Countess learns the luggage is being taken out of the carts to make room for wounded men, she becomes upset. If they lose their house and property, her children will have nothing. It’s the governments responsibility to transport the wounded, she says. Just then Berg arrives to see them.
quote from the chapter:
Count, be so good as to allow me… for God’s sake, to get into some corner of one of your carts! I have nothing here with me…. I shall be all right on a loaded cart….
Before the officer had finished speaking the orderly made the same request on behalf of his master.
Oh, yes, yes, yes! said the count hastily. I shall be very pleased, very pleased. Vasílich, you’ll see to it. Just unload one or two carts. Well, what of it… do what’s necessary… said the count, muttering some indefinite order.
But at the same moment an expression of warm gratitude on the officer’s face had already sealed the order. The count looked around him. In the yard, at the gates, at the window of the wings, wounded officers and their orderlies were to be seen. They were all looking at the count and moving toward the porch.
Please step into the gallery, your excellency, said the major-domo. What are your orders about the pictures?
The count went into the house with him, repeating his order not to refuse the wounded who asked for a lift.
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