战争与和平(上)-第303章

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　the　more　vindictively；　would　that　fearful　memory　rankle　in　his　heart　to　the　end　of　his　life。　He　seemed　to　be　hearing　now　the　sound　of　his　own　words：　“Tear　him　to　pieces；　you　shall　answer　for　it　to　me！—　Why　did　I　say　these　words？　I　said　it　somehow　without　meaning　to　…　I　might　not　have　said　them；”　he　thought；　“and　then　nothing　would　have　happened。”　He　saw　the　terror…stricken；　and　then　suddenly　frenzied　face　of　the　dragoon　who　had　struck　the　first　blow；　and　the　glance　of　silent；　timid　reproach　cast　on　him　by　that　lad　in　the　fox…lined　coat。　“But　I　didn’t　do　it　on　my　own　account。　I　was　bound　to　act　in　that　way。　La　plèbe　…　le　tra？tre　…　le　bien　publique；　…”　he　mused。
The　bridge　over　the　Yauza　was　still　crowded　with　troops。　It　was　hot。　Kutuzov；　looking　careworn　and　weary；　was　sitting　on　a　bench　near　the　bridge；　and　playing　with　a　whip　on　the　sand；　when　a　carriage　rattled　noisily　up　to　him。　A　man　in　the　uniform　of　a　general；　wearing　a　hat　with　plumes；　came　up　to　Kutuzov。　He　began　addressing　him　in　French；　his　eyes　shifting　uneasily；　with　a　look　between　anger　and　terror　in　them。　It　was　Count　Rastoptchin。　He　told　Kutuzov　that　he　had　come　here；　for　since　Moscow　was　no　more；　the　army　was　all　that　was　left。　“It　might　have　been　very　different　if　your　highness　had　not　told　me　you　would　not　abandon　Moscow　without　a　battle；　all　this　would　not　have　been！”　said　he。
Kutuzov　stared　at　Rastoptchin；　and；　as　though　not　understanding　the　meaning　of　the　words　addressed　to　him；　he　strove　earnestly　to　decipher　the　special　meaning　betrayed　at　that　minute　on　the　face　of　the　man　addressing　him。　Rastoptchin　ceased　speaking　in　discomfiture。　Kutuzov　slightly　shook　his　head；　and；　still　keeping　his　searching　eyes　on　Rastoptchin’s　face；　he　murmured　softly：
“Yes；　I　won’t　give　up　Moscow　without　a　battle。”
Whether　Kutuzov　was　thinking　of　something　different　when　he　uttered　those　words；　or　said　them　purposely；　knowing　them　to　be　meaningless；　Count　Rastoptchin　made　him　no　reply；　and　hastily　left　him。　And—strange　to　tell！　the　governor　of　Moscow；　the　proud　Count　Rastoptchin；　picking　up　a　horse　whip；　went　to　the　bridge；　and　fell　to　shouting　and　driving　on　the　crowded　carts。


Chapter　26
AT　FOUR　O’CLOCK　in　the　afternoon；　Murat’s　troops　entered　Moscow。　In　front　rode　a　detachment　of　Würtemberg　hussars；　behind；　with　an　immense　suite；　rode　the　King　of　Naples　himself。
Near　the　middle　of　Arbaty；　close　to　Nikola　Yavlenny；　Murat　halted　to　await　information　from　the　detachment　in　advance　as　to　the　condition　in　which　the　citadel　of　the　city；　“le　Kremlin；”　had　been　found。
A　small　group　of　inhabitants　of　Moscow　had　gathered　about　Murat。　All　stared　with　timid　astonishment　at　the　strange　figure　of　the　long…haired　commander；　decked　in　gold　and　feathers。
“Why；　is　this　their　Tsar　himself？　Nought　amiss　with　him；”　voices　were　heard　saying　softly。
An　interpreter　approached　the　group　of　gazers。
“Caps　…　caps　off；”　they　muttered；　turning　to　each　other　in　the　little　crowd。　The　interpreter　accosted　one　old　porter；　and　asked　him　if　it　were　far　to　the　Kremlin。　The　porter；　listening　with　surprise　to　the　unfamiliar　Polish　accent；　and　not　recognising　the　interpreter’s　words　for　Russian；　had　no　notion　what　was　being　said　to　him；　and　took　refuge　behind　the　others。
Murat　approached　the　interpreter；　and　told　him　to　ask　where　were　the　Russian　troops。　One　of　the　Russians　understood　this　question；　and　several　voices　began　answering　the　interpreter　simultaneously。　A　French　officer　from　the　detachment　in　advance　rode　up　to　Murat　and　reported　that　the　gates　into　the　citadel　were　blocked　up；　and　that　probably　there　was　an　ambush　there。
“Good；”　said　Murat；　and　turning　to　one　of　the　gentlemen　of　his　suite；　he　commanded　four　light　cannons　to　be　moved　forward；　and　the　gates　to　be　shelled　upon。
The　artillery　came　trotting　out　from　the　column　following　Murat；　and　advanced　along　Arbaty。　When　they　reached　the　end　of　Vosdvizhenka　the　artillery　halted　and　drew　up　in　the　square。　Several　French　officers　superintended　the　placing　of　the　cannon　some　distance　apart；　and　looked　at　the　Kremlin　through　a　field…glass。　A　bell　was　ringing　in　the　Kremlin　for　evening　service；　and　that　sound　troubled　the　French。　They　supposed　that　it　was　the　call　to　arms。　Several　infantry　soldiers　ran　to　the　Kutafyev　gateway。　A　barricade　of　beams　and　planks　lay　across　the　gateway。　Two　musket　shots　rang　out　from　the　gates；　just　as　an　officer　with　some　men　were　running　up　to　them。　The　general　standing　by　the　cannons　shouted　some　words　of　command　to　the　officer；　and　the　officer　and　the　soldiers　ran　back。
Three　more　shots　were　heard　from　the　gate。　One　shot　grazed　the　leg　of　a　French　soldier；　and　a　strange　shout　of　several　voices　rose　from　behind　the　barricade。　Instantaneously；　as　though　at　the　word　of　command；　the　expression　of　good　humour　and　serenity　on　the　faces　of　the　French　general；　officers；　and　men　was　replaced　by　a　stubborn；　concentrated　expression　of　readiness　for　conflict　and　suffering。　To　all　of　them；　from　the　marshal　to　the　lowest　soldier；　this　place　was　not　Vosdvizhenka；　Mohova；　Kutaf；　and　the　Troitsky　gates；　it　was　a　new　battlefield；　likely　to　be　the　scene　of　a　bloody　conflict。　And　all　were　ready　for　that　conflict。　The　shouts　from　the　gates　died　away。　The　cannons　were　moved　forward。　The　artillerymen　quenched　the　burning　linstocks。　An　officer　shouted　“Fire！”　and　two　whistling　sounds　of　clinking　tin　rang　out　one　after　another。　The　grapeshot　fell　rattling　on　the　stone　of　the　gateway；　on　the　beams　and　screens　of　planks；　and　two　clouds　of　smoke　rolled　over　the　square。
Some　instants　after　the　echoes　of　the　shots　had　died　away　over　the　stone　Kremlin；　a　strange　sound　was　heard　over　the　heads　of　the　French。　An　immense　flock　of　jackdaws　rose　above　the　walls　and　swept　round　in　the　air　with　loud　caws；　and　the　whir　of　thousands　of　wings。　Together　with　this　sound；　there　rose　a　solitary　human　cry　at　the　gate；　and　the　figure　of　a　man　bareheaded；　in　a　long　peasant’s　coat；　came　into　sight　through　the　smoke。　Holding　a　gun　up；　he　took　aim　at　the　French。　“Fire！”　repeated　the　artillery　officer；　and　at　the　same　instant　one　rifle　shot　and　two　cannon　shots　were　heard。　The　gate　was　again　hidden　in　smoke。
Nothing　more　stirred　behind　the　barricade；　and　the　French　infantry　soldiers　with　their　officers　passed　in　at　the　gate。　In　the　gateway　lay　three　men　wounded　and　four　dead。　Two　men　in　long　peasant…coats　had　run　away　along　the　walls　toward　Znamenka。
“Clear　this　away；”　said　the　officer；　pointing　to　the　beams　and　the　corpses；　and　the　French　soldiers　finished　off　the　wounded；　and　flung　the　corpses　over　the　fence　below。　Who　these　men　were　nobody　knew。　“Clear　this　away！”　was　all　that　was　said　of　them；　and　they　were　flung　away　that　they　might　not　stink。　Thiers　has　indeed　devoted　some　eloquent　lines　to　their　memories。　“These　wretches　had　invaded　the　sacred　citadel；　had　taken　possession　of　the　guns　of　the　arsenal；　and　fired　（the　wretches）　on　the　French。　Some　of　them　were　sabred；　and　the　Kremlin　was　purged　of　their　presence。”
Murat　was　informed　that　the　way　had　been　cleared。　The　French　entered　the　gates；　and　began　pitching　their　camp　on　Senate…house　Square。　The　soldiers　flung　the　chairs　out　of　the　windows　of　the　Senate…house　into　the　square；　and　began　making　fires。
Other　detachments　marched　across　the　Kremlin　and　encamped　in　Moroseyka；　Lubyanka；　and　Pokrovka。　Others　pitched　their　camps　in　Vosdvizhenka；　Znamenka；　Nikolskaya；　and　Tverskaya。　Not　finding　citizens　to　entertain　them；　the　French　everywhere　bivouacked　as　in　a　camp　pitched　in　a　town；　instead　of　quartering　themselves　on　the　houses。
Tattered；　hungry；　and　exhausted；　as　they　were；　and　dwindled　to　one…third　their　original　numbers；　the　French　soldiers　yet　entered　Moscow　in　good　discipline。　It　was　a　harassed　and　exhausted；　yet　still　active　and　menacing　army。　But　it　was　an　army　only　up　to　the　moment　when　the　soldiers　of　the　army　dispersed　all　over　the　town。　As　soon　as　the　soldiers　began　to　disperse　about　the　wealthy；　deserted　houses；　the　army　was　lost　for　ever；　and　in　its　place　was　a　multitude　of　men；　neither　citizens　nor　soldiers；　but　something　nondescript　between；　known　as　marauders。　When　five　weeks　later　these　same　men　set　out　from　Moscow；　they　no　longer　made　up　an　arm