战争与和平(上)-第89章
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see?” said Rostov。
Bagration stood still; and before answering; tried to make out Rostov’s face in the mist。
“Well; go and see;” he said after a brief pause。
“Yes; sir。”
Rostov put spurs to his horse; called up the sergeant Fedtchenko; and two other hussars; told them to ride after him; and trotted off downhill in the direction of the shouting; which still continued。 Rostov felt both dread and joy in riding alone with three hussars into that mysterious and dangerous; misty distance; where no one had been before him。 Bagration shouted to him from the hill not to go beyond the stream; but Rostov made as though he had not heard his words; and rode on without stopping; further and further; continually mistaking bushes for trees and ravines for men; and continually discovering his mistakes。 As he galloped downhill he lost sight both of our men and the enemy; but more loudly and distinctly he heard the shouts of the French。 In the valley he saw ahead of him something that looked like a river; but when he had ridden up to it; he found out it was a road。 As he got out on the road he pulled up his horse; hesitating whether to go along it or to cut across it; and ride over the black field up the hillside。 To follow the road; which showed lighter in the mist; was more dangerous; because figures could be more easily descried upon it。 “Follow me;” he said; “cut across the road;” and began galloping up the hill towards the point where the French picket had been in the evening。
“Your honour; here he is!” said one of the hussars behind; and before Rostov had time to make out something that rose up suddenly black in the mist; there was a flash of light; the crack of a shot and a bullet; that seemed whining a complaint; whizzed high in the air and flew away out of hearing。 Another shot missed fire; but there was a flash in the pan。 Rostov turned his horse’s head and galloped back。 He heard four more shots at varying intervals; and four more bullets whistled in varying tones somewhere in the mist。 Rostov held in his horse; who seemed inspirited; as he was himself by the shots; and rode back at a walkingpace。 “Now; then; some more; now then; more!” a sort of light…hearted voice murmured in his soul。 But there were no more shots。 Only as he approached Bagration; Rostov put his horse into a gallop again; and with his hand to his cap; rode up to him。
Dolgorukov was still insisting on his opinion that the French were retreating; and had only lighted fires to mislead them。 “What does it prove?” he was saying; as Rostov rode up to them。 “They might have retreated and left pickets。”
“It’s clear they have not all retired; prince;” said Bagration。 “We must wait till morning; to…morrow we shall know all about it。”
“The picket’s on the hill; your excellency; still where it was in the evening;” Rostov announced; his hand to his cap; unable to restrain the smile of delight that had been called up by his expedition and the whiz of the bullets。
“Very good; very good;” said Bagration; “I thank you; monsieur l’officier。”
“Your excellency;” said Rostov; “may I ask a favour?”
“What is it?”
“To…morrow our squadron is ordered to the rear; may I beg you to attach me to the first squadron?”
“What’s your name?”
“Count Rostov。”
“Ah; very good! You may stay in attendance on me。”
“Ilya Andreitch’s son?” said Dolgorukov。 But Rostov made him no reply。
“So I may reckon on it; your excellency。”
“I will give the order。”
“To…morrow; very likely; they will send me with some message to the Emperor;” he thought。 “Thank God!”
The shouts and lights in the enemy’s army had been due to the fact that while Napoleon’s proclamation had been read to the troops; the Emperor had himself ridden among the bivouacs。 The soldiers on seeing the Emperor had lighted wisps of straw and run after him; shouting; “Vive l’Empereur!” Napoleon’s proclamation was as follows:—
“Soldiers! The Russian army is coming to meet you; to avenge the Austrian army; the army of Ulm。 They are the forces you have defeated at Hollabrunn; and have been pursuing ever since up to this place。 The position we occupy is a powerful one; and while they will march to out…flank me on the right; they will expose their flank to me! Soldiers! I will myself lead your battalions。 I will keep out of fire; if you; with your habitual bravery; carry defeat and disorder into the ranks of the enemy。 But if victory is for one moment doubtful; you will see your Emperor exposed to the enemy’s hottest attack; for there can be no uncertainty of victory; especially on this day; when it is a question of the honour of the French infantry; on which rests the honour of our nation。 Do not; on the pretext of removing the wounded; break the order of the ranks! Let every man be fully penetrated by the idea that we must subdue these minions of England; who are inspired by such hatred of our country。 This victory will conclude our campaign; and we can return to winter quarters; where we shall be reinforced by fresh forces now being formed in France; and then the peace I shall conclude will be one worthy of my people; of you and me。
“NAPOLEON。”
Chapter 14
AT FIVE O’CLOCK in the morning it was still quite dark。 The troops of the centre; of the reserves; and of Bagration’s right flank; were still at rest。 But on the left flank the columns of the infantry; cavalry; and artillery; destined to be the first to descend from the heights; so as to attack the French right flank; and; according to Weierother’s plan; to drive it back to the Bohemian mountains; were already up and astir。 The smoke from the camp…fires; into which they were throwing everything superfluous; made the eyes smart。 It was cold and dark。 The officers were hurriedly drinking tea and eating breakfast; the soldiers were munching biscuits; stamping their feet rhythmically; while they gathered about the fires warming themselves; and throwing into the blaze remains of shanties; chairs; tables; wheels; tubs; everything superfluous that they could not take away with them。 Austrian officers were moving in and out among the Russian troops; coming everywhere as heralds of their advance。 As soon as an Austrian officer appeared near a commanding officer’s quarters; the regiment began to bestir themselves; the soldiers ran from the fires; thrust pipes into boot…legs; bags into waggons; saw to their muskets; and formed into ranks。 The officers buttoned themselves up; put on their sabres and pouches; and moved up and down the ranks shouting。 The commissariat men and officers’ servants harnessed the horses; packed and tied up the waggons。 The adjutants and the officers in command of regiments and battalions got on their horses; crossed themselves; gave final orders; exhortations and commissions to the men who remained behind with the baggage; and the monotonous thud of thousands of feet began。 The columns moved; not knowing where they were going; and unable from the crowds round them; the smoke; and the thickening fog; to see either the place which they were leaving; or that into which they were advancing。
The soldier in movement is as much shut in; surrounded; drawn along by his regiment; as the sailor is by his ship。 However great a distance he traverses; however strange; unknown; and dangerous the regions to which he penetrates; all about him; as the sailor has the deck and masts and rigging of his ship; he has always everywhere the same comrades; the same ranks; the same sergeant Ivan Mitritch; the same regimental dog Zhutchka; the same officers。 The soldier rarely cares to know into what region his ship has sailed; but on the day of battle—God knows how or whence it comes—there may be heard in the moral world of the troops a sterner note that sounds at the approach of something grave and solemn; and rouses them to a curiosity unusual in them。 On days of battle; soldiers make strenuous efforts to escape from the routine of their regiment’s interests; they listen; watch intently; and greedily inquire what is being done around them。
The fog had become so thick that though it was growing light; they could not see ten steps in front of them。 Bushes looked like huge trees; level places looked like ravines and slopes