战争与和平(上)-第37章

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was　audible。　The　regiment　roared：　“Good　health　to　your　Ex　。。　lency　。。　lency　。。　lency！”　And　again　all　was　still。　At　first　Kutuzov　stood　in　one　spot；　while　the　regiment　moved；　then　Kutuzov　began　walking　on　foot　among　the　ranks；　the　white　general　beside　him；　followed　by　his　suite。
From　the　way　that　the　general　in　command　of　the　regiment　saluted　the　commander…in…chief；　fixing　his　eyes　intently　on　him；　rigidly　respectful　and　obsequious；　from　the　way　in　which；　craning　forward；　he　followed　the　generals　through　the　ranks；　with　an　effort　restraining　his　quivering　strut；　and　darted　up　at　every　word　and　every　gesture　of　the　commander…in…chief；—it　was　evident　that　he　performed　his　duties　as　a　subordinate　with　even　greater　zest　than　his　duties　as　a　commanding　officer。　Thanks　to　the　strictness　and　assiduity　of　its　commander；　the　regiment　was　in　excellent　form　as　compared　with　the　others　that　had　arrived　at　Braunau　at　the　same　time。　The　sick　and　the　stragglers　left　behind　only　numbered　two　hundred　and　seventeen；　and　everything　was　in　good　order　except　the　soldiers’　boots。
Kutuzov　walked　through　the　ranks；　stopping　now　and　then；　and　saying　a　few　friendly　words　to　officers　he　had　known　in　the　Turkish　war；　and　sometimes　to　the　soldiers。　Looking　at　their　boots；　he　several　times　shook　his　head　dejectedly；　and　pointed　them　out　to　the　Austrian　general　with　an　expression　as　much　as　to　say　that　he　blamed　no　one　for　it；　but　he　could　not　help　seeing　what　a　bad　state　of　things　it　was。　The　general　in　command　of　the　regiment；　on　every　occasion　such　as　this；　ran　forward；　afraid　of　missing　a　single　word　the　commander…in…chief　might　utter　regarding　the　regiment。　Behind　Kutuzov；　at　such　a　distance　that　every　word；　even　feebly　articulated；　could　be　heard；　followed　his　suite；　consisting　of　some　twenty　persons。　These　gentlemen　were　talking　among　themselves；　and　sometimes　laughed。　Nearest　of　all　to　the　commander…in…chief　walked　a　handsome　adjutant。　It　was　Prince　Bolkonsky。　Beside　him　was　his　comrade　Nesvitsky；　a　tall　staff…officer；　excessively　stout；　with　a　good…natured；　smiling；　handsome　face；　and　moist　eyes。　Nesvitsky　could　hardly　suppress　his　mirth；　which　was　excited　by　a　swarthy　officer　of　hussars　walking　near　him。　This　officer；　without　a　smile　or　a　change　in　the　expression　of　his　fixed　eyes；　was　staring　with　a　serious　face　at　the　commanding　officer’s　back；　and　mimicking　every　movement　he　made。　Every　time　the　commanding　officer　quivered　and　darted　forward；　the　officer　of　hussars　quivered　and　darted　forward　in　precisely　the　same　way。　Nesvitsky　laughed；　and　poked　the　others　to　make　them　look　at　the　mimic。
Kutuzov　walked　slowly　and　listlessly　by　the　thousands　of　eyes　which　were　almost　rolling　out　of　their　sockets　in　the　effort　to　watch　him。　On　reaching　the　third　company；　he　suddenly　stopped。　The　suite；　not　foreseeing　this　halt；　could　not　help　pressing　up　closer　to　him。
“Ah；　Timohin！”　said　the　commander…in…chief；　recognising　the　captain　with　the　red　nose　who　had　got　into　trouble　over　the　blue　overcoat。
One　would　have　thought　it　impossible　to　stand　more　rigidly　erect　than　Timohin　had　done　when　the　general　in　command　of　the　regiment　had　made　his　remarks　to　him；　but　at　the　instant　when　the　commander…in…chief　addressed　him；　the　captain　stood　with　such　erect　rigidity　that　it　seemed　that；　were　the　commander…in…chief　to　remain　for　some　time　looking　at　him；　the　captain　could　hardly　sustain　the　ordeal；　and　for　that　reason　Kutuzov；　realising　his　position；　and　wishing　him　nothing　but　good；　hurriedly　turned　away。　A　scarcely　perceptible　smile　passed　over　Kutuzov’s　podgy　face；　disfigured　by　the　scar　of　a　wound。
“Another　old　comrade　at　Ismail！”　he　said。　“A　gallant　officer！　Are　you　satisfied　with　him？”　Kutuzov　asked　of　the　general　in　command。
And　the　general；　all　unconscious　that　he　was　being　reflected　as　in　a　mirror　in　the　officer　of　hussars　behind　him；　quivered；　pressed　forward；　and　answered：　“Fully；　your　most　high　excellency。”
“We　all　have　our　weaknesses；”　said　Kutuzov；　smiling　and　walking　away　from　him。　“He　had　a　predilection　for　Bacchus。”
The　general　in　command　was　afraid　that　he　might　be　to　blame　for　this；　and　made　no　answer。　The　officer　of　hussars　at　that　instant　noticed　the　face　of　the　captain　with　the　red　nose；　and　the　rigidly　drawn…in　stomach；　and　mimicked　his　face　and　attitude　in　such　a　life…like　manner　that　Nesvitsky　could　not　restrain　his　laughter。　Kutuzov　turned　round。　The　officer　could　apparently　do　anything　he　liked　with　his　face；　at　the　instant　Kutuzov　turned　round；　the　officer　had　time　to　get　in　a　grimace　before　assuming　the　most　serious；　respectful；　and　innocent　expression。
The　third　company　was　the　last；　and　Kutuzov　seemed　pondering；　as　though　trying　to　recall　something。　Prince　Andrey　stepped　forward　and　said　softly　in　French：　“You　told　me　to　remind　you　of　the　degraded　officer；　Dolohov；　serving　in　the　ranks　in　this　regiment。”
“Where　is　Dolohov？”　asked　Kutuzov。
Dolohov；　attired　by　now　in　the　grey　overcoat　of　a　private　soldier；　did　not　wait　to　be　called　up。　The　slender　figure　of　the　fair…haired　soldier；　with　his　bright　blue　eyes；　stepped　out　of　the　line。　He　went　up　to　the　commander…in…chief　and　presented　arms。
“A　complaint　to　make？”　Kutuzov　asked　with　a　slight　frown。
“This　is　Dolohov；”　said　Prince　Andrey。
“Ah！”　said　Kutuzov。　“I　hope　this　will　be　a　lesson　to　you；　do　your　duty　thoroughly。　The　Emperor　is　gracious。　And　I　shall　not　forget　you；　if　you　deserve　it。”
The　bright　blue　eyes　looked　at　the　commander…in…chief　just　as　impudently　as　at　the　general　of　his　regiment；　as　though　by　his　expression　tearing　down　the　veil　of　convention　that　removed　the　commander…in…chief　so　far　from　the　soldier。
“The　only　favour　I　beg　of　your　most　high　excellency；”　he　said　in　his　firm；　ringing；　deliberate　voice；　“is　to　give　me　a　chance　to　atone　for　my　offence；　and　to　prove　my　devotion　to　his　majesty　the　Emperor；　and　to　Russia。”
Kutuzov　turned　away。　There　was　a　gleam　in　his　eyes　of　the　same　smile　with　which　he　had　turned　away　from　Captain　Timohin。　He　turned　away　and　frowned；　as　though　to　express　that　all　Dolohov　had　said　to　him　and　all　he　could　say；　he　had　known　long；　long　ago；　that　he　was　sick　to　death　long　ago　of　it；　and　that　it　was　not　at　all　what　was　wanted。　He　turned　away　and　went　towards　the　coach。
The　regiment　broke　into　companies　and　went　towards　the　quarters　assigned　them　at　no　great　distance　from　Braunau；　where　they　hoped　to　find　boots　and　clothes；　and　to　rest　after　their　hard　marches。
“You　won’t　bear　me　a　grudge；　Proho　Ignatitch？”　said　the　commanding　general；　overtaking　the　third　company　and　riding　up　to　Captain　Timohin；　who　was　walking　in　front　of　it。　The　general’s　face　beamed　with　a　delight　he　could　not　suppress　after　the　successful　inspection。　“It’s　in　the　Tsar’s　service　…　can’t　be　helped　…　sometimes　one　has　to　be　a　little　sharp　at　inspection。　I’m　the　first　to　apologise；　you　know　me。…　He　was　very　much　pleased。”　And　he　held　out　his　hand　to　the　captain。
“Upon　my　word；　general；　as　if　I’d　make　so　bold；”　answered　the　captain；　his　nose　flushing　redder。　He　smiled；　and　his　smile　revealed　the　loss　of　two　front　teeth；　knocked　out　by　the　butt…end　of　a　gun　at　Ismail。
“And　tell　Dolohov　that　I　won’t　forget　him；　he　can　be　easy　about　that。　And　tell　me；　please；　what　about　him；　how’s　he　behaving　himself　…　I’ve　been　meaning　to　inquire…”
“He’s　very　exact　in　the　discharge　of　his　duties；　your　excellency　…　but　he’s　a　character　…”　said　Timohin。
“Why；　what　sort　of　a　character？”　asked　the　general。
“It’s　different　on　different　days；　your　excellency；”　said　the　captain；　“at　one　time　he’s　sensible　and　well…educated　and　good…natured。　And　then　he’ll　be　like　a　wild　beast。　In　Poland；　he　all　but　killed　a　Jew；　if　you　please。…”
“Well；　well；”　said　the　general；　“still　one　must　feel　for　a　young　man　in　trouble。　He　has　great　connections；　you　know。…　So　you　…”
“Oh；　yes；　your　excellency；”　said　Timohin；　with　a　smile　that　showed　he　understood　his　superior　officer’s　wish　in　the　matter。
“Very　well；　then；　very　well。”
The　general　sought　out　Dolohov　in　the　ranks　and　pulled　up　his　horse。
“In　the　first　action　you　may　win　your　epaulettes；”　he　said　to　him。
Dolohov　looked　round　and　said　nothing。　There　was　no　change　in　the