第一百六十五章 第八章
第八章
第二天早上，女士们还没有起床，猎用的马车和那辆双轮马车已经停在门口了，拉斯卡从清早起就知道它们要去打猎，它又是狺吠又是跳跃，折腾了好久以后，才坐到车夫座位旁边的马车上去，因为等候出发而不耐烦地、兴奋地望着那扇至今还没有猎人走出来的门。第一个走出来的是瓦先卡·韦斯洛夫斯基，他穿着一双齐着他粗壮大腿的半高腰的新皮靴，一件绿色衬衫上系着一根崭新的俄国皮带，戴着一顶苏格兰帽，手持一支没有背带的新式英国猎枪。拉斯卡飞跑到他跟前，欢迎了他，跳起来用它的方式问他别人是不是快出来了，但是等不到他回答，它又回到自己的瞭望岗位上，把头偏到一边，竖起一只耳朵来听着。终于门吱地一声敞开了，斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇的那只黄褐色的猎狗克拉克跑了出来，在它头上团团转。斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇本人也拿着一支枪走出来了，嘴里还叼着一支雪茄烟。
“好，好，克拉克！”他对那只狗叫了一声，它把两只前爪扑到他的胸口上，攀着他的猎袋。斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇穿着只遮到腿肚子的粗糙的护膝和绑腿上，穿一条破旧裤子，一件短外衣。他的头上是一顶破烂得不成样子的帽子，但是他的那支新式枪却很精美，他的猎袋和弹药袋虽然又旧又破，但是质地却是极好的。
瓦先卡·韦斯洛夫斯基以前可不知道，一个时髦的猎人穿着破烂衣服，但是打猎用具却质料精美才是真正的文雅。他现在看到斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇穿着破衣服，却流露出潇洒、健美、悠闲的气派，而且容光焕发，他这才明白这一点，于是决定下一次打猎一定也要这样打扮。
“哦，我们的主人怎么样了？”他问。
“年轻的妻子，”斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇微微一笑，说。
“是啊，而且是这样一位迷人的妻子！”
“他已经穿好衣服下来了。大概又跑到她那里去了。”
斯捷潘·阿尔卡季奇猜对了。列文又跑到妻子那里去问她再一次原谅他昨天的愚蠢行为，此外，还要为着上帝的缘故恳求她多加小心。最重要的就是她要离开孩子们远一点，因为他们随时随地都会碰着她。然后又得要她再一次肯定地说她并不因为他要离开两天而生气，并且还请求她明天一定要打发一个骑马的仆人去给他送一封信，写上简简单单的两句话也行，让他知道她一切平安。
基蒂同丈夫分别两天，照例很痛苦，但是当她看见他穿着猎靴和白色短衫显得魁梧强壮的那种兴奋的英姿，以及一种她所不能理解的那种狩猎时的狂喜，她因为他的快乐而忘了自己的不愉快，欢欢喜喜地和他告了别。
“对不起，诸位！”他说，跑上台阶。“早饭放上去了吗？为什么把右边的马套上了？唔，反正一样。拉斯卡，下去，去躺着！”
他把套在右边的马同那匹拉边套的马一起赶到畜群里，然后对那个等候在台阶前问事的管家说：“对不起，又有一个坏蛋来了。”于是他从他已经坐进去的马车里跳出来，去迎接拿着尺子向台阶走来的木匠。
“昨天你为什么不到账房来，现在你又耽误我的事。你有什么事？”
“让我再做一个弯头吧，只要再加三级楼梯就行了。我们把它装配好，就合适了。那要省事得多。”
“你早该听我的话了，”列文懊恼地说。“我说过：先把楼梯栏杆立上，然后再镶配楼梯级。现在就没有法子改了。照我说的做吧，另外再做一架楼梯。”
事情是这样的：木匠在造厢房的时候把楼梯弄坏了，没有算准高度，所以装配起来以后，整个楼梯的每一级都是斜的。这个木匠现在想把原来的楼梯留着，另外再加三级。
“那样就好多了。”
“但是加了三级，你这楼梯通到哪里去呢？”
“老天爷，老爷，”木匠轻蔑地笑着说，“它正好通到那里。它从底下开始，这么上去，上去，就到了呀，”他做出很有说服力的姿势说。
“它会顶到天花板、墙的……那怎么行呢？”
“对不起！它从底下开始，上去、上去，就成了这样。您放心！”
列文取出枪通条来，开始在灰尘里给他画出楼梯的样子。
“你瞧见没有？”
“随您便吧，”木匠忽然眼睛一亮说，显然他到底明白了。“看起来非再做一架新的不可了。”
“那就照我吩咐的去做吧。”列文一面大声说，一面坐上马车。“走吧！菲利普，看住狗！”
“各位，走吧，再见了！”
“一路顺风！”他听见他的妻子和德米特里在车后叫喊的声音。
列文觉得，当他身后留下他所爱的那一家人和所有操心事的时候，一种这样强烈的生的欢乐和期待，使他不愿意说话了。除此以外，他还有一种每一个猎人在趋近猎场时所体验到的全神贯注的激动情绪。假使此刻他心里还有什么事没有忘怀的话，那只是想在科尔平沼地里还能碰到些什么，拉斯卡同克拉克比起来会不会更出色，他今天自己射击得怎样，以及诸如此类的事。（当着陌生人的面不丢脸，奥布隆斯基的枪法也不比他差。）这些念头也闪过他的脑海。
奥布隆斯基也有同样的感觉，所以也不爱说话。只有瓦先卡·韦斯洛夫斯基一个人喋喋不休地欢快地说着话。列文现在听他说话，不禁为自己昨天对他多么不公正感到惭愧。韦斯洛夫斯基真是一个可爱的、憨厚的、心地善良的小伙子呢。如果列文没有结婚的话，他一定会和他交上朋友的。列文不大喜欢他那种漫无节制的欢乐生活态度，以及那种好像极其风雅的潇洒气派。他似乎把自己看得很了不起，好像因为他的指甲很长，帽子和别的一切都很时髦，就认定自己的话是无可置辩的了似的；但是因为他善良的性格，还是可以原谅这些的。列文喜欢他，因为他有很好的教养，他说法文和英文都发音清晰，而且他本身也是他那一类的人。
瓦先卡对于左边的这匹顿河马特别喜爱，他不住地称赞它。“骑着草原马在草原上奔驰，那可真叫棒吧？啊？对不对？”他说。他想象骑着草原马是一件野蛮而富有诗意的事情，结果却并不是这样的。但是他的单纯，特别是和他的漂亮、妩媚的微笑以及优美的动作结合在一起，显得很可爱。也许是因为列文的性格和他很相投，也许是因为列文为了弥补昨日的过失，拼命在他身上找出优点来，反正列文和他在一起是愉快的。
他们走了差不多三俄里以后，韦斯洛夫斯基忽然摸索他的雪茄烟和皮夹子，不知道是丢了还是放在桌子上了。皮夹子里有三十七卢布，所以事情不能等闲视之。
“喂，列文，我想骑着左边这匹边套的马飞奔回家去。那妙极了。好吗？”他说，准备要下车。
“不，何必这样呢？”列文回答，估计韦斯洛夫斯基的体重一定不会少于一百二十斤。“打发车夫去吧。”
车夫骑在边套的马上，回家去了。列文自己驾着剩下的两匹马。
Next day, before the ladies were up, the wagonette and a trap for the
shooting party were at the door, and Laska, aware since early morning
that they were going shooting, after much whining and darting to and
fro, had sat herself down in the wagonette beside the coachman, and,
disapproving of the delay, was excitedly watching the door from which
the sportsmen still did not come out. The first to come out was
Vassenka Veslovsky, in new high boots that reached half-way up his
thick thighs, in a green blouse, with a new Russian leather
cartridge-belt, and in his Scotch cap with ribbons, with a brand-new
English gun without a sling. Laska flew up to him, welcomed him, and
jumping up, asked him in her own way whether the others were coming
soon, but getting no answer from him, she returned to her post of
observation and sank into repose again, her head on one side, and one
ear pricked up to listen. At last the door opened with a creak, and
Stepan Arkadyevitch’s spot-and-tan pointer Krak flew out, running round
and round and turning over in the air. Stepan Arkadyevitch himself
followed with a gun in his hand and a cigar in his mouth.
“Good dog, good dog, Krak!” he cried encouragingly to the dog, who put
his paws up on his chest, catching at his game bag. Stepan Arkadyevitch
was dressed in rough leggings and spats, in torn trousers and a short
coat. On his head there was a wreck of a hat of indefinite form, but
his gun of a new patent was a perfect gem, and his game bag and
cartridge belt, though worn, were of the very best quality.
Vassenka Veslovsky had had no notion before that it was truly _chic_
for a sportsman to be in tatters, but to have his shooting outfit of
the best quality. He saw it now as he looked at Stepan Arkadyevitch,
radiant in his rags, graceful, well-fed, and joyous, a typical Russian
nobleman. And he made up his mind that next time he went shooting he
would certainly adopt the same get-up.
“Well, and what about our host?” he asked.
“A young wife,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, smiling.
“Yes, and such a charming one!”
“He came down dressed. No doubt he’s run up to her again.”
Stepan Arkadyevitch guessed right. Levin had run up again to his wife
to ask her once more if she forgave him for his idiocy yesterday, and,
moreover, to beg her for Christ’s sake to be more careful. The great
thing was for her to keep away from the children—they might any minute
push against her. Then he had once more to hear her declare that she
was not angry with him for going away for two days, and to beg her to
be sure to send him a note next morning by a servant on horseback, to
write him, if it were but two words only, to let him know that all was
well with her.
Kitty was distressed, as she always was, at parting for a couple of
days from her husband, but when she saw his eager figure, looking big
and strong in his shooting-boots and his white blouse, and a sort of
sportsman elation and excitement incomprehensible to her, she forgot
her own chagrin for the sake of his pleasure, and said good-bye to him
cheerfully.
