战争与和平(上)-第258章

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“Count；　your　excellency；　how　do　you　come　here？”　asked　the　doctor。
“Oh；　I　wanted　to　have　a　look　…”
“Oh　well；　there　will　be　something　to　look　at　…”　Pierre　got　out　of　his　carriage；　and　stopped　to　have　a　talk　with　the　doctor；　explaining　to　him　his　plan　for　taking　part　in　the　battle。
The　doctor　advised　Bezuhov　to　go　straight　to　his　highness。
“Why；　you　would　be　God　knows　where　during　the　battle；　out　of　sight；”　he　said；　with　a　glance　at　his　young　companion；　“and　his　highness　knows　you　anyway；　and　will　give　you　a　gracious　reception。　That’s　what　I　should　do；　my　friend；”　said　the　doctor。
The　doctor　seemed　tired　and　hurried。
“So　you　think。　…　But　one　thing　more　I　wanted　to　ask　you；　where　is　the　position　exactly？”　said　Pierre。
“The　position？”　said　the　doctor；　“well；　that’s　not　in　my　line。　Drive　on　to　Tatarinovo；　there’s　a　great　deal　of　digging　going　on　there。　There　you’ll　come　out　on　a　mound；　from　there　you　get　a　view；”　said　the　doctor。
“A　view　from　it？　…　If　you　would　…”
But　the　doctor　interrupted；　and　moved　toward　his　gig。
“I　would　have　shown　you　the　way；　but　by　God；　you　see”　（the　doctor　made　a　significant　gesture）；　“I’m　racing　to　the　commander　of　the　corps。　We’re　in　such　a　fix；　you　see　…　you　know；　count；　there’s　to　be　a　battle　tomorrow；　with　a　hundred　thousand　troops；　we　must　reckon　on　twenty　thousand　wounded　at　least；　and　we　haven’t　the　stretchers；　nor　beds；　nor　attendants；　nor　doctors　for　six　thousand。　There　are　ten　thousand　carts；　but　we　want　other　things；　one　must　manage　as　one　can。”
The　strange　idea　that　of　those　thousands　of　men；　alive　and　well；　young　and　old；　who　had　been　staring　with　such　light…hearted　amusement　at　his　hat；　twenty　thousand　were　inevitably　doomed　to　wounds　and　death　（perhaps　the　very　men　whom　he　had　seen）　made　a　great　impression　on　Pierre。
“They　will　die；　perhaps；　to…morrow；　how　can　they　think　of　anything　but　death？”　And　suddenly；　by　some　latent　connection　of　ideas；　he　saw　a　vivid　picture　of　the　hillside　of　Mozhaisk；　the　carts　of　wounded　men；　the　chimes；　the　slanting　sunshine；　and　the　singing　of　the　cavalry　regiment。
“They　were　going　into　battle；　and　meeting　wounded　soldiers；　and　never　for　a　minute　paused　to　think　what　was　in　store　for　them；　but　went　by　and　winked　at　their　wounded　comrades。　And　of　all　those；　twenty　thousand　are　doomed　to　death；　and　they　can　wonder　at　my　hat！　Strange！”　thought　Pierre；　as　he　went　on　towards　Tatarinovo。
Carriages；　waggons；　and　crowds　of　orderlies　and　sentinels　were　standing　about　a　gentleman’s　house　on　the　left　side　of　the　road。　The　commander…in…chief　was　putting　up　there。　But　when　Pierre　arrived；　he　found　his　highness　and　almost　all　the　staff　were　out。　They　had　all　gone　to　the　church　service。　Pierre　pushed　on　ahead　to　Gorky；　and　driving　uphill　into　a　little　village　street；　Pierre　saw　for　the　first　time　the　peasants　of　the　militia　in　white　shirts；　with　crosses　on　their　caps。　With　loud　talk　and　laughter；　eager　and　perspiring；　they　were　working　on　the　right　of　the　road　at　a　huge　mound　overgrown　with　grass。
Some　of　them　were　digging　out　the　earth；　others　were　carrying　the　earth　away　in　wheelbarrows；　while　a　third　lot　stood　doing　nothing。
There　were　two　officers　on　the　knoll　giving　them　instructions。　Seeing　these　peasants；　who　were　unmistakably　enjoying　the　novelty　of　their　position　as　soldiers；　Pierre　thought　again　of　the　wounded　soldiers　at　Mozhaisk；　and　he　understood　what　the　soldier　had　tried　to　express　by　the　words　“they　want　to　mass　all　the　people　together。”　The　sight　of　these　bearded　peasants　toiling　on　the　field　of　battle　with　their　queer；　clumsy　boots；　with　their　perspiring　necks；　and　here　and　there　with　shirts　unbuttoned　showing　their　sun…burnt　collar…bones；　impressed　Pierre　more　strongly　than　anything　he　had　yet　seen　and　heard　with　the　solemnity　and　gravity　of　the　moment。


Chapter　21
PIERRE　got　out　of　his　carriage；　and　passing　by　the　toiling　peasants；　clambered　up　the　knoll　from　which　the　doctor　had　told　him　he　could　get　a　view　of　the　field　of　battle。
It　was　eleven　o’clock　in　the　morning。　The　sun　was　a　little　on　the　left；　and　behind　Pierre；　and　in　the　pure；　clear　air；　the　huge　panorama　that　stretched　in　an　amphitheatre　before　him　from　the　rising　ground　lay　bathed　in　brilliant　sunshine。
The　Smolensk　high…road　ran　winding　through　that　amphitheatre；　intersecting　it　towards　the　left　at　the　top；　and　passing　through　a　village　with　a　white　church；　which　lay　some　five　hundred　paces　before　and　below　the　knoll。　This　was　Borodino。　The　road　passed　below　the　village；　crossed　a　bridge；　and　ran　winding　uphill　and　downhill；　mounting　up　and　up　to　the　hamlet　of　Valuev；　visible　six　versts　away；　where　Napoleon　now　was。　Behind　Valuev　the　road　disappeared　into　a　copse　turning　yellow　on　the　horizon。　In　this　copse　of　birch…　and　pine…trees；　on　the　right　of　the　road；　could　be　seen　far　away　the　shining　cross　and　belfry　of　the　Kolotsky　monastery。　Here　and　there　in　the　blue　distance；　to　right　and　to　left　of　the　copse　and　the　road；　could　be　seen　smoking　camp…fires　and　indistinct　masses　of　our　troops　and　the　enemy’s。　On　the　right；　along　the　course　of　the　rivers　Kolotcha　and　Moskva；　the　country　was　broken　and　hilly。　Through　the　gaps　between　the　hills　could　be　seen　the　villages　of　Bezzubovo　and　Zaharino。　On　the　left　the　ground　was　more　level；　there　were　fields　of　corn　and　a　smoking　village　that　had　been　set　on　fire—Semyonovskoye。
Everything　Pierre　saw　was　so　indefinite；　that　in　no　part　of　the　scene　before　him　could　he　find　anything　fully　corresponding　to　his　preconceptions。　There　was　nowhere　a　field　of　battle　such　as　he　had　expected　to　see；　nothing　but　fields；　dells；　troops；　woods；　camp…fires；　villages；　mounds；　and　streams。　With　all　Pierre’s　efforts；　he　could　not　discover　in　the　living　landscape　a　military　position。　He　could　not　even　distinguish　between　our　troops　and　the　enemy’s。
“I　must　ask　some　one　who　understands　it；”　he　thought；　and　he　addressed　the　officer；　who　was　looking　with　curiosity　at　his　huge；　unmilitary　figure。
“Allow　me　to　ask；”　Pierre　said；　“what　village　is　that　before　us？”
“Burdino；　isn’t　it　called？”　said　the　officer；　turning　inquiringly　to　his　comrade。
“Borodino；”　the　other　corrected。
The　officer；　obviously　pleased　at　an　opportunity　for　conversation；　went　nearer　to　Pierre。
“Are　these　our　men　there？”　asked　Pierre。
“Yes；　and　away　further；　those　are　the　French；”　said　the　officer。　“There　they　are；　there　you　can　see　them。”
“Where？　where？”　asked　Pierre。
“One　can　see　them　with　the　naked　eye。　Look！”　The　officer　pointed　to　smoke　rising　on　the　left　beyond　the　river；　and　the　same　stern　and　grave　expression　came　into　his　face　that　Pierre　had　noticed　in　many　of　the　faces　he　had　met。
“Ah；　that’s　the　French！　And　there？　…”　Pierre　pointed　to　a　knoll　on　the　left　about　which　troops　could　be　seen。
“Those　are　our　men。”
“Oh；　indeed！　And　there？　…”　Pierre　pointed　to　another　mound　in　the　distance；　with　a　big　tree　on　it；　near　a　village　that　could　be　seen　in　a　gap　between　the　hills；　where　there　was　a　dark　patch　and　the　smoke　of　campfires。
“Ah！　that’s　he　again！”　said　the　officer。　（It　was　the　redoubt　of　Shevardino。）　“Yesterday　that　was　ours；　but　now　it’s　his。”
“So　what　is　our　position；　then？”
“Our　position？”　said　the　officer；　with　a　smile　of　satisfaction。　“I　can　describe　it　very　clearly；　because　I　have　had　to　do　with　the　making　of　almost　all　our　fortifications。　There；　our　centre；　do　you　see；　is　here　at　Borodino。”　He　pointed　to　the　village　with　the　white　church；　in　front　of　them。　“There’s　the　ford　across　the　Kolotcha。　Here；　do　you　see；　where　the　rows　of　mown　hay　are　still　lying　in　the　low　ground；　there’s　the　bridge。　That’s　our　centre。　Our　right　flank　is　away　yonder”　（he　pointed　to　the　right；　far　away　to　the　hollows　among　the　hills）；　“there　is　the　river　Moskva；　and　there　we　have　thrown　up　three　very　strong　redoubts。　The　left　flank　…”　there　the　officer　paused。　“It’s　hard　to　explain；　you　see。　…　Yesterday　our　left　flank　was　over　there；　at　Shevardino；　do　you　see；　where　the　oak　is。　But　now　we　have　drawn　back　our　left　wing；　now　it’s　over　there；—you　see　the　village　and　the　smoke—that’s　Semyonovskoye；　and　here—look；”　he　pointed　to　Raevsky’s　redoubt。　“Only　the　battle　won’t　be　there；　most　like