The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowd began to disperse.
“There! I said if only we waited—and so it was!” was being joyfully said by various people.
Happy as Pétya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing that all the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight home from the Krémlin, but called on his friend Obolénski, who was fifteen and was also entering the regiment. On returning home Pétya announced resolutely and firmly that if he was not allowed to enter the service he would run away. And next day, Count Ilyá Andréevich—though he had not yet quite yielded—went to inquire how he could arrange for Pétya to serve where there would be least danger.
XXII
Two days later, on the fifteenth of July, an immense number of carriages were standing outside the Slobóda Palace.
The great halls were full. In the first were the nobility and gentry in their uniforms, in the second bearded merchants in full-skirted coats of blue cloth and wearing medals. In the noblemen’s hall there was an incessant movement and buzz of voices. The chief magnates sat on high-backed chairs at a large table under the portrait of the Emperor, but most of the gentry were strolling about the room.
All these nobles, whom Pierre met every day at the Club or in their own houses, were in uniform—some in that of Catherine’s day, others in that of Emperor Paul, others again in the new uniforms of Alexander’s time