战争与和平(上)-第83章

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　fight　a　general　engagement　with　Bonaparte。　The　council　of　war　was　only　just　over　when　Prince　Andrey；　accompanied　by　Boris；　went　into　the　palace　in　search　of　Prince　Dolgorukov。　Every　one　at　headquarters　was　still　under　the　spell　of　the　victory　gained　that　day　by　the　younger　party　at　the　council　of　war。　The　voices　of　those　who　urged　delay；　and　counselled　waiting　for　something　and　not　advancing；　had　been　so　unanimously　drowned　and　their　arguments　had　been　confuted　by　such　indubitable　proofs　of　the　advantages　of　advancing；　that　what　had　been　discussed　at　the　council；　the　future　battle　and　the　victory　certain　to　follow　it；　seemed　no　longer　future　but　past。　All　the　advantages　were　on　our　side。　Our　immense　forces；　undoubtedly　superior　to　those　of　Napoleon；　were　concentrated　in　one　place；　the　troops　were　encouraged　by　the　presence　of　the　two　Emperors；　and　were　eager　for　battle。　The　strategic　position　on　which　they　were　to　act　was　to　the　minutest　detail　known　to　the　Austrian　general　Weierother；　who　was　at　the　head　of　the　troops　（as　a　lucky　chance　would　have　it；　the　Austrian　troops　had　chosen　for　their　man？uvres　the　very　fields　in　which　they　had　now　to　fight　the　French）。　Every　detail　of　the　surrounding　neighbourhood　was　known　and　put　down　on　maps；　while　Bonaparte；　apparently　growing　feebler；　was　taking　no　measures。
Dolgorukov；　who　had　been　one　of　the　warmest　advocates　of　attack；　had　just　come　back　from　the　council；　weary；　exhausted；　but　eager　and　proud　of　the　victory　he　had　gained。　Prince　Andrey　presented　the　officer　for　whom　he　was　asking　his　influence；　but　Prince　Dolgorukov；　though　he　shook　hands　politely　and　warmly；　said　nothing　to　Boris。　Obviously　unable　to　restrain　himself　from　uttering　the　thoughts　which　were　engrossing　him　at　that　moment；　he　addressed　Prince　Andrey　in　French。
“Well；　my　dear　fellow；　what　a　battle　we　have　won！　God　only　grant　that　the　one　which　will　be　the　result　of　it　may　be　as　victorious。　I　must　own；　though；　my　dear　fellow；”　he　said　jerkily　and　eagerly；　“my　short…comings　compared　with　the　Austrians　and　especially　Weierother。　What　accuracy；　what　minuteness；　what　knowledge　of　the　locality；　what　foresight　of　every　possibility；　every　condition；　of　every　minutest　detail！　No；　my　dear　boy；　anything　more　propitious　than　the　circumstance　we　are　placed　in　could　not　have　been　found；　if　one　had　arranged　it　purposely。　The　union　of　Austrian　exactitude　with　Russian　valour—what　could　you　wish　for　more？”
“So　an　attack　has　been　finally　decided　upon？”　said　Bolkonsky。
“And　do　you　know；　I　fancy；　Bonaparte　really　has　lost　his　head。　You　know　that　a　letter　came　from　him　to…day　to　the　Emperor。”　Dolgorukov　smiled　significantly。
“You　don’t　say　so！　What　does　he　write？”　asked　Bolkonsky。
“What　can　he　write？　Tradi…ri…di…ra—all　simply　to　gain　time。　I　tell　you　he’s　in　our　hands；　that’s　the　fact！　But　the　most　amusing　part　of　it　all；”　he　said；　breaking　all　at　once　into　a　good…natured　laugh；　“is　that　they　couldn’t　think　how　to　address　an　answer　to　him。　If　not　‘consul；’　and　of　course　not　‘emperor；’　it　should　be　‘general’　Bonaparte；　it　seemed　to　me。”
“But　between　not　recognising　him　as　emperor　and　calling　him　General　Bonaparte；　there’s　a　difference；”　said　Bolkonsky。
“That’s　just　the　point；”　Dolgorukov　interrupted　quickly；　laughing。　“You　know　Bilibin；　he’s　a　very　clever　fellow；　he　suggested　addressing　it；　‘To　the　Usurper　and　Enemy　of　the　Human　Race；’　”　Dolgorukov　chuckled　merrily。
“And　nothing　more？”　observed　Bolkonsky。
“But　still　it　was　Bilibin　who　found　the　suitable　form　of　address　in　earnest。　He’s　both　shrewd　and　witty…”
“How　was　it？”
“To　the　Chief　of　the　French　Government：　au　chef　du　gouvernement　fran？ais；”　Dolgorukov　said　seriously　and　with　satisfaction。　“That　was　the　right　thing；　wasn’t　it？”
“It　was　all　right；　but　he　will　dislike　it　extremely；”　observed　Bolkonsky。
“Oh；　extremely！　My　brother　knows　him；　he’s　dined　more　than　once　with　him—nowadays　the　emperor—in　Paris；　and　used　to　tell　me　that　he’d　never　seen　a　subtler　and　more　crafty　diplomat；　you　know；　a　combination　of　French　adroitness　and　the　Italian　actor…faculty！　You　know　the　anecdote　about　Bonaparte　and　Count　Markov？　Count　Markov　was　the　only　person　who　knew　how　to　treat　him。　You　know　the　story　of　the　handkerchief？　It’s　a　gem！”　And　the　talkative　Dolgorukov　turning　from　Boris　to　Prince　Andrey　told　the　story　of　how　Bonaparte；　to　test　Markov；　our　ambassador；　had　purposely　dropped　his　handkerchief　before　him；　and　had　stood　looking　at　him；　probably　expecting　Markov　to　pick　it　up　for　him；　and　how　Markov　promptly　dropped　his　own　beside　it；　and　had　picked　up　his　own　without　touching　Bonaparte’s。
“Capital；”　said　Bolkonsky。　“But；　prince；　I　have　come　to　you　as　a　petitioner　in　behalf　of　this　young　friend。　You　see　…”　But　before　Prince　Andrey　could　finish；　an　adjutant　came　into　the　room　to　summon　Prince　Dolgorukov　to　the　Emperor。
“Ah；　how　annoying！”　said　Dolgorukov；　getting　up　hurriedly　and　shaking　hands　with　Prince　Andrey　and　Boris。　“You　know　I　shall　be　very　glad　to　do　all　that　depends　on　me　both　for　you　and　for　this　charming　young　man。”　Once　more　he　shook　hands　with　Boris　with　an　expression　of　good…natured；　genuine；　heedless　gaiety。　“But　you　see　…　another　time！”
Boris　was　excited　by　the　thought　of　being　so　close　to　the　higher　powers；　as　he　felt　himself　to　be　at　that　instant。　He　was　conscious　here　of　being　in　contact　with　the　springs　that　controlled　all　those　vast　movements　of　the　masses；　of　which　in　his　regiment　he　felt　himself　a　tiny；　humble；　and　insignificant　part。　They　followed　Prince　Dolgorukov　out　into　the　corridor　and　met　（coming　out　of　the　door　of　the　Tsar’s　room　at　which　Dolgorukov　went　in）　a　short　man　in　civilian　dress　with　a　shrewd　face　and　a　sharply　projecting　lower　jaw；　which；　without　spoiling　his　face；　gave　him　a　peculiar　alertness　and　shiftiness　of　expression。　This　short　man　nodded　to　Dolgorukov；　as　if　he　were　an　intimate　friend；　and　stared　with　an　intently　cold　gaze　at　Prince　Andrey；　walking　straight　towards　him　and　apparently　expecting　him　to　bow　or　move　out　of　his　way。　Prince　Andrey　did　neither；　there　was　a　vindictive　look　on　his　face；　and　the　short　young　man　turned　away　and　walked　at　the　side　of　the　corridor。
“Who’s　that？”　asked　Boris。
“That’s　one　of　the　most　remarkable　men—and　the　most　unpleasant　to　me。　The　minister　of　foreign　affairs；　Prince　Adam　Tchartorizhsky。”
“Those　are　the　men；”　added　Bolkonsky　with　a　sigh　which　he　could　not　suppress；　as　they　went　out　of　the　palace；　“those　are　the　men　who　decide　the　fates　of　nations。”
Next　day　the　troops　set　off　on　the　march；　and　up　to　the　time　of　the　battle　of　Austerlitz；　Boris　did　not　succeed　in　seeing　Bolkonsky　or　Dolgorukov　again；　and　remained　for　a　while　in　the　Ismailov　regiment。


Chapter　10
AT　DAWN　on　the　16th；　Denisov’s　squadron；　in　which　Nikolay　Rostov　was　serving；　and　which　formed　part　of　Prince　Bagration’s　detachment；　moved　on　from　its　halting　place　for　the　night—to　advance　into　action；　as　was　said。　After　about　a　mile’s　march；　in　the　rear　of　other　columns；　it　was　brought　to　a　standstill　on　the　high…road。　Rostov　saw　the　Cossacks；　the　first　and　second　squadrons　of　hussars；　and　the　infantry　battalions　with　the　artillery　pass　him　and　march　on　ahead；　he　also　saw　the　Generals　Bagration　and　Dolgorukov　ride　by　with　their　adjutants。　All　the　panic　he　had　felt；　as　before；　at　the　prospect　of　battle；　all　the　inner　conflict　by　means　of　which　he　had　overcome　that　panic；　all　his　dreams　of　distinguishing　himself　in　true　hussar　style　in　this　battle—all　were　for　nothing。　His　squadron　was　held　back　in　reserve；　and　Nikolay　Rostov　spent　a　tedious　and　wretched　day。　About　nine　o’clock　in　the　morning　he　heard　firing　ahead　of　him；　and　shouts　of　hurrah；　saw　the　wounded　being　brought　back　（there　were　not　many　of　them）；　and　finally　saw　a　whole　detachment　of　French　cavalry　being　brought　away　in　the　midst　of　a　company　of　Cossacks。　Obviously　the　action　was　over；　and　the　action　had；　obviously；　been　a　small　one；　but　successful。　The　soldiers　and　officers　as　they　came　back　were　talking　of　a　brilliant　victory；　of　the　taking　of　the　town　of　Vishau；　and　a　whole　French　squadron　taken　prisoners。　The　day　was　bright　and　sunny　after　a　sharp　frost　at　night；　and　the　cheerful