战争与和平(上)-第267章

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he　more　serenely　I　jest　the　more　calm　and　confidence　and　admiration　for　my　genius　you　ought　to　feel。”
After　emptying　a　second　glass　of　punch；　Napoleon　went　to　seek　repose　before　the　grave　business　which；　as　he　imagined；　lay　before　him　next　day。
He　was　so　preoccupied　with　what　lay　before　him　that　he　could　not　sleep；　and　in　spite　of　his　cold；　which　got　worse　with　the　damp　of　evening；　he　got　up　at　three　o’clock；　and　went　out　into　the　principal　compartment　of　the　tent；　sneezing　violently。　He　asked　whether　the　Russians　had　not　retreated。　He　was　told　that　the　enemy’s　fires　were　still　in　the　same　places。　He　nodded　approval。
The　adjutant　on　duty　came　into　the　tent。
“Well；　Rapp；　do　you　think　we　shall　do　good　business　to…day？”　he　said　to　him。
“Without　doubt；　sire！”　answered　Rapp。
Napoleon　looked　at　him。
“Do　you　remember　what　you　did　me　the　honour　to　say　at　Smolensk？”　said　Rapp：　“the　wine　is　drawn；　it　must　be　drunk。”
Napoleon　frowned；　and　sat　for　a　long　while　in　silence；　his　head　in　his　hand。
“This　poor　army；　it　has　greatly　diminished　since　Smolensk。　La　fortune　est　une　franche　courtisane；　Rapp。　I　have　always　said　so；　and　I　begin　to　feel　it；　but　the　Guard；　Rapp；　the　Guard　is　intact？”　he　said　inquiringly。
“Yes；　sire；”　replied　Rapp。
Napoleon　took　a　lozenge；　put　it　in　his　mouth；　and　looked　at　his　watch。　He　was　not　sleepy；　and　morning　was　still　far　off；　and　there　were　no　instructions　to　be　drawn　up　to　get　through　the　time；　for　all　had　been　already　given；　and　were　even　now　being　put　into　execution。
“Have　the　biscuits　and　the　rice　been　distributed　to　the　regiments　of　the　Guard？”　Napoleon　asked　severely。
“Yes；　sire。”
“The　rice；　too？”
Rapp　answered　that　he　had　given　the　Emperor’s　orders　about　the　rice；　but　Napoleon　shook　his　head　with　a　dissatisfied　air；　as　though　he　doubted　whether　his　command　had　been　carried　out。　A　servant　came　in　with　punch。　Napoleon　ordered　another　glass　for　Rapp；　and　took　a　few　sips　from　his　own　in　silence。　“I　have　neither　taste　nor　smell；”　he　said；　sniffing　at　the　glass。　“I　am　sick　of　this　cold。　They　talk　about　medicine。　What　is　medicine；　when　they　can’t　cure　a　cold？　Corvisart　gave　me　these　lozenges；　but　they　do　no　good。　What　can　they　cure？　They　can’t　cure　anything。　Our　body　is　a　machine　for　living。　It　is　organised　for　that；　it　is　its　nature；　leave　life　to　it　unhindered；　let　life　defend　itself　in　it；　it　will　do　more　than　if　you　paralyse　it；　encumbering　it　with　remedies。　Our　body　is　a　perfect　watch；　meant　to　go　for　a　certain　time；　the　watchmaker　has　not　the　power　of　opening　it；　he　can　only　handle　it　in　fumbling　fashion；　blindfold。　Our　body　is　a　machine　for　living；　that’s　all。”　And　apparently　because　he　had　dropped　into　making　definitions；　which　he　had　a　weakness　for　doing；　he　suddenly　hazarded　one　on　a　fresh　subject。　“Do　you　know；　Rapp；　what　the　military　art　consists　in？”　he　asked。　“It　is　the　art　of　being　stronger　than　the　enemy　at　a　given　moment。　That　is　all。”
Rapp　made　no　reply。
“To…morrow　we　shall　have　to　do　with　Kutuzov；”　said　Napoleon。　“We　shall　see！　Do　you　remember；　he　was　in　command　at　Braunau；　and　never　once　in　three　weeks　mounted　a　horse　to　inspect　his　entrenchments。　We　shall　see！”
He　looked　at　his　watch。　It　was　still　only　four　o’clock。　He　was　not　sleepy；　the　punch　was　finished；　and　there　was　still　nothing　to　do。　He　got　up；　walked　up　and　down；　put　on　a　warm　coat　and　hat　and　went　out　of　the　tent。　The　night　was　dark　and　damp；　a　slight　drizzle　was　falling　almost　inaudibly。　Close　by　in　the　French　Guard；　the　camp…fires　burned　dimly；　and　far　away　they　were　blazing　brightly　through　the　smoke　along　the　Russian　line。　The　air　was　still；　and　a　faint　stir　and　tramp　could　be　distinctly　heard　from　the　French　troops　beginning　to　move　to　occupy　the　position。
Napoleon　walked　to　and　fro　before　the　tent；　looked　at　the　fires；　listened　to　the　tramp；　and　passed　by　a　tall　guardsman　in　a　fur　cap；　a　sentinel　at　his　tent；　who　drew　himself　up　like　a　black　post　on　seeing　the　Emperor。　The　latter　stood　still；　facing　him。
“Since　what　year　have　you　served？”　he　asked；　with　that　affectation　of　military　bluntness　and　geniality　with　which　he　always　addressed　the　soldiers。　The　soldier　answered。
“Ah！　one　of　the　veterans！　Have　you　all　had　rice　in　the　regiment？”
“Yes；　your　majesty。”
Napoleon　nodded　and　walked　away。
At　half…past　five　Napoleon　rode　to　the　village　of　Shevardino。
It　began　to　get　light；　the　sky　cleared；　only　a　single　storm　cloud　lay　on　the　eastern　horizon。　The　deserted　camp…fires　burned　down　in　the　pale　light　of　morning。
A　solitary；　deep　cannon　shot　boomed　out　on　the　right；　hovered　in　the　air；　and　died　away　in　the　stillness。　Several　minutes　passed。　A　second；　and　a　third　shot　was　heard；　the　air　was　full　of　vibration；　a　fourth　and　a　fifth　boomed　out　majestically；　closely　on　the　right。
The　first　shots　had　not　died　away；　when　others　rang　out；　and　more　and　more；　their　notes　blending　and　overtaking　one　another。
Napoleon　rode　with　his　suite　to　the　Shevardino　redoubt；　and　dismounted　there。　The　game　had　begun。


Chapter　30
PIERRE；　on　returning　to　Gorky　from　seeing　Prince　Andrey；　gave　directions　to　his　postillion　to　have　horses　ready　and　to　call　him　early　next　morning；　and　promptly　fell　fast　asleep　in　the　corner　behind　a　screen　which　Boris　had　put　at　his　disposal。
When　Pierre　was　fully　awake　next　morning；　there　was　no　one　in　the　hut。　The　panes　were　rattling　in　the　little　windows。　The　postillion　was　at　his　side；　shaking　him。　“Your　excellency；　your　excellency；　your　excellency　…”　the　groom　kept　saying　persistently；　shaking　him　by　the　shoulder；　without　even　looking　at　him；　apparently　having　lost　all　hope　of　ever　waking　him　up。
“Eh；　has　it　begun？　Is　it　time？”　said　Pierre；　waking　up。
“Listen　to　the　firing；　your　excellency；”　said　the　postillion；　an　old　soldier；　“all　the　gentlemen　are　gone　already；　his　highness　set　off　long　ago。”
Pierre　dressed　in　haste；　and　ran　out　into　the　porch。　It　was　a　bright；　fresh；　dewy；　cheerful　morning。　The　sun　had　just　broken　through　the　cloud　that　had　screened　it；　and　its　rays　filtered　through　the　rent　clouds；　and　over　the　roofs　of　the　street　opposite　on　to　the　dew…drenched　dust　of　the　road；　on　to　the　fences　and　the　windows　of　the　houses；　and　Pierre’s　horses　standing　by　the　cottage。　The　roar　of　the　cannon　could　be　heard　more　distinctly　in　the　open　air。　An　adjutant　galloped　down　the　street；　followed　by　a　Cossack。
“It’s　time；　count；　it’s　time！”　cried　the　adjutant。　Pierre　gave　orders　that　he　should　be　followed　with　a　horse；　and　walked　along　the　street　to　the　knoll　from　which　he　had　viewed　the　field　of　battle　the　day　before。　On　this　knoll　was　a　crowd　of　officers；　and　Pierre　heard　the　French　chatter　of　the　staff；　and　saw　Kutuzov’s　grey　head　sunk　in　his　shoulders；　and　his　white　cap；　with　red　braiding　on　it。　Kutuzov　was　looking　through　a　field…glass　along　the　high…road　before　him。
Mounting　the　steps　of　the　approach　to　the　mound；　Pierre　glanced　before　him；　and　felt　a　thrill　of　delight　at　the　beauty　of　the　spectacle。　It　was　the　same　scene　that　he　had　admired　from　that　mound　the　day　before。　But　now　the　whole　panorama　was　filled　with　troops　and　the　smoke　of　the　guns；　and　in　the　pure　morning　air　the　slanting　rays　of　the　sun；　behind　Pierre　on　the　left；　shed　on　it　a　brilliant　light　full　of　gold　and　pink　tones；　and　broken　up　by　long；　dark　shadows。　The　distant　forests　that　bounded　the　scene　lay　in　a　crescent　on　the　horizon；　looking　as　though　carved　out　of　some　precious　yellow…green　stone；　and　through　their　midst　behind　Valuev　ran　the　great　Smolensk　road；　all　covered　with　troops。　In　the　foreground　lay　golden　fields　and　copses　glittering　in　the　sun。　Everywhere；　to　right；　to　left；　and　in　front　were　soldiers。　The　whole　scene　was　inspiriting；　impressive；　and　unexpected；　but　what　struck　Pierre　most　of　all　was　the　aspect　of　the　field　of　battle　itself；　of　Borodino；　and　the　hollow　on　both　sides　of　the　Kolotcha。
About　the　Kolotcha；　in　Borodino；　and　both　sides　of　it；　especially　to　the　left　where　the　Voina　runs　through　swampy　ground　into　the　Kolotcha；　a　mist　still　hung　over　the　scene；　melting；　parting；　shimmering　with　light　in　the　bright　sunshine；　and　giving　fairy…like　beauty　to　the　shapes　seen　through　it。　The　smoke　of　the　guns　mingled　with　this　mist；　and　everywhere　gleam