战争与和平(上)-第96章

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ently　urging　him　to　do　the　same。　The　rider；　whose　figure　seemed　familiar　to　Rostov　had　somehow　riveted　his　attention；　made　a　gesture　of　refusal　with　his　head　and　his　hand；　and　in　that　gesture　Rostov　instantly　recognised　his　lamented；　his　idolised　sovereign。
“But　it　can’t　be　he；　alone；　in　the　middle　of　this　empty　field；”　thought　Rostov。　At　that　moment　Alexander　turned　his　head　and　Rostov　saw　the　beloved　features　so　vividly　imprinted　on　his　memory。　The　Tsar　was　pale；　his　cheeks　looked　sunken；　and　his　eyes　hollow；　but　the　charm；　the　mildness　of　his　face　was　only　the　more　striking。　Rostov　felt　happy　in　the　certainty　that　the　report　of　the　Emperor’s　wound　was　false。　He　was　happy　that　he　was　seeing　him。　He　knew　that　he　might；　that　he　ought；　indeed；　to　go　straight　to　him　and　to　give　him　the　message　he　had　been　commanded　to　give　by　Dolgorukov。
But；　as　a　youth　in　love　trembles　and　turns　faint　and　dares　not　utter　what　he　has　spent　nights　in　dreaming　of；　and　looks　about　in　terror；　seeking　aid　or　a　chance　of　delay　or　flight；　when　the　moment　he　has　longed　for　comes　and　he　stands　alone　at　her　side；　so　Rostov；　now　when　he　was　attaining　what　he　had　longed　for　beyond　everything　in　the　world；　did　not　know　how　to　approach　the　Emperor；　and　thousands　of　reasons　why　it　was　unsuitable；　unseemly；　and　impossible　came　into　his　mind。
“What！　it’s　as　though　I　were　glad　to　take　advantage　of　his　being　alone　and　despondent。　It　may　be　disagreeable　and　painful　to　him；　perhaps；　to　see　an　unknown　face　at　such　a　moment　of　sadness；　besides；　what　can　I　say　to　him　now；　when　at　the　mere　sight　of　him　my　heart　is　throbbing　and　leaping　into　my　mouth？”　Not　one　of　the　innumerable　speeches　he　had　addressed　to　the　Tsar　in　his　imagination　recurred　to　his　mind　now。　These　speeches　for　the　most　part　were　appropriate　to　quite　other　circumstances；　they　had　been　uttered　for　the　most　part　at　moments　of　victory　and　triumph；　and　principally　on　his　deathbed　when；　as　he　lay　dying　of　his　wounds；　the　Emperor　thanked　him　for　his　heroic　exploits；　and　he　gave　expression　as　he　died　to　the　love　he　had　proved　in　deeds。　“And　then；　how　am　I　to　ask　the　Emperor　for　his　instructions　to　the　right　flank　when　it’s　four　o’clock　in　the　afternoon　and　the　battle　is　lost？　No；　certainly　I　ought　not　to　ride　up　to　him；　I　ought　not　to　break　in　on　his　sorrow。　Better　die　a　thousand　deaths　than　that　he　should　give　me　a　glance；　a　thought　of　disapproval；”　Rostov　decided；　and　with　grief　and　despair　in　his　heart　he　rode　away；　continually　looking　back　at　the　Tsar；　who　still　stood　in　the　attitude　of　indecision。
While　Rostov　was　making　these　reflections　and　riding　mournfully　away　from　the　Tsar；　Captain　Von　Toll　happened　to　ride　up　to　the　same　spot；　and　seeing　the　Emperor；　went　straight　up　to　him；　offered　him　his　services；　and　assisted　him　to　cross　the　ditch　on　foot。　The　Tsar；　feeling　unwell　and　in　need　of　rest；　sat　down　under　an　apple…tree；　and　Von　Toll　remained　standing　by　his　side。　Rostov　from　a　distance　saw　with　envy　and　remorse　how　Von　Toll　talked　a　long　while　warmly　to　the　Emperor；　how　the　Emperor；　apparently　weeping；　hid　his　face　in　his　hand；　and　pressed　Von　Toll’s　hand。
“And　it　might　have　been　I　in　his　place？”　Rostov　thought；　and　hardly　restraining　his　tears　of　sympathy　for　the　Tsar；　he　rode　away　in　utter　despair；　not　knowing　where　and　with　what　object　he　was　going　now。
His　despair　was　all　the　greater　from　feeling　that　it　was　his　own　weakness　that　was　the　cause　of　his　regret。
He　might…not　only　might；　but　ought　to　have　gone　up　to　the　Emperor。　And　it　was　a　unique　chance　of　showing　his　devotion　to　the　Emperor。　And　he　had　not　made　use　of　it。…　“What　have　I　done？”　he　thought。　And　he　turned　his　horse　and　galloped　back　to　the　spot　where　he　had　seen　the　Emperor；　but　there　was　no　one　now　beyond　the　ditch。　There　were　only　transport　waggons　and　carriages　going　by。　From　one　carrier　Rostov　learned　that　Kutuzov’s　staff　were　not　far　off　in　the　village　towards　which　the　transport　waggons　were　going。　Rostov　followed　them。
In　front　of　him　was　Kutuzov’s　postillion　leading　horses　in　horse…cloths。　A　baggage　waggon　followed　the　postillion；　and　behind　the　waggon　walked　an　old　bandy…legged　servant　in　a　cap　and　a　cape。
“Tit；　hey。　Tit！”　said　the　postillion。
“Eh；”　responded　the　old　man　absent…mindedly。
“Tit！　Stupay　molotit！”　（“Tit；　go　a…thrashing！”）
“Ugh；　the　fool；　pugh！”　said　the　old　man；　spitting　angrily。　A　short　interval　of　silence　followed；　and　then　the　same　joke　was　repeated。
By　five　o’clock　in　the　evening　the　battle　had　been　lost　at　every　point。　More　than　a　hundred　cannons　were　in　the　possession　of　the　French。　Przhebyshevsky　and　his　corps　had　surrendered。　The　other　columns　had　retreated；　with　the　loss　of　half　their　men；　in　confused；　disorderly　masses。　All　that　were　left　of　Langeron’s　and　Dohturov’s　forces　were　crowded　together　in　hopeless　confusion　on　the　dikes　and　banks　of　the　ponds　near　the　village　of　Augest。
At　six　o’clock　the　only　firing　still　to　be　heard　was　a　heavy　cannonade　on　the　French　side　from　numerous　batteries　ranged　on　the　slope　of　the　table…land　of　Pratzen；　and　directed　at　our　retreating　troops。
In　the　rearguard　Dohturov　and　the　rest；　rallying　their　battalions；　had　been　firing　at　the　French　cavalry　who　were　pursuing　them。　It　was　begining　to　get　dark。　On　the　narrow　dam　of　Augest；　where　the　old　miller　in　his　peaked　cap　had　sat　for　so　many　years　with　his　fishing　tackle；　while　his　grandson；　with　tucked…up　shirt…sleeves；　turned　over　the　silvery；　floundering　fish　in　the　net；　on　that　dam　where　the　Moravians；　in　their　shaggy　caps　and　blue　jackets；　had　for　so　many　years　peacefully　driven　their　horses　and　waggons；　loaded　with　wheat；　to　the　mill　and　driven　back　over　the　same　dam；　dusty　with　flour　that　whitened　their　waggons—on　that　narrow　dam　men；　made　hideous　by　the　terror　of　death；　now　crowded　together；　amid　army　waggons　and　cannons；　under　horses’　feet　and　between　carriage…wheels；　crushing　each　other；　dying；　stepping　over　the　dying；　and　killing　each　other；　only　to　be　killed　in　the　same　way　a　few　steps　further　on。
Every　ten　seconds　a　cannon　ball　flew　lashing　the　air　and　thumped　down；　or　a　grenade　burst　in　the　midst　of　that　dense　crowd；　slaying　men　and　splashing　blood　on　those　who　stood　near。　Dolohov；　wounded　in　the　hand；　with　some　dozen　soldiers　of　his　company　on　foot　（he　was　already　an　officer）　and　his　general　on　horseback；　were　the　sole　representatives　of　a　whole　regiment。　Carried　along　by　the　crowd；　they　were　squeezed　in　the　approach　to　the　dam　and　stood　still；　jammed　in　on　all　sides　because　a　horse　with　a　cannon　had　fallen；　and　the　crowd　were　dragging　it　away。　A　cannon　ball　killed　some　one　behind　them；　another　fell　in　front　of　them　and　spurted　the　blood　upon　Dolohov。　The　crowd　moved　forward　desperately；　was　jammed；　moved　a　few　steps　and　was　stopped　again。　“Only　to　get　over　these　hundred　steps　and　certain　safety：　stay　here　two　minutes　and　death　to　a　certainty；”　each　man　was　thinking。
Dolohov　standing　in　the　centre　of　the　crowd；　forced　his　way　to　the　edge　of　the　dam；　knocking　down　two　soldiers；　and　ran　on　to　the　slippery　ice　that　covered　the　millpond。
“Turn　this　way！”　he　shouted；　bounding　over　the　ice；　which　cracked　under　him。　“Turn　this　way！”　he　kept　shouting　to　the　cannon。　“It　bears！…”　The　ice　bore　him；　but　swayed　and　cracked；　and　it　was　evident　that；　not　to　speak　of　a　cannon　or　a　crowd　of　people；　it　would　give　way　in　a　moment　under　him　alone。　Men　gazed　at　him　and　pressed　to　the　bank；　unable　to　bring　themselves　to　step　on　to　the　ice。　The　general　of　his　regiment　on　horseback　at　the　end　of　the　dam　lifted　his　hand　and　opened　his　mouth　to　speak　to　Dolohov。　Suddenly　one　of　the　cannon　balls　flew　so　low　over　the　heads　of　the　crowd　that　all　ducked。　There　was　a　wet　splash；　as　the　general　fell　from　his　horse　into　a　pool　of　blood。　No　one　glanced　at　the　general；　no　one　thought　of　picking　him　up。
“On　to　the　ice！　Get　on　the　ice！　Get　on！　turn！　don’t　you　hear！　Get　on！”　innumerable　voices　fell　to　shouting　immediately　after　the　ball　had　struck　the　general；　not　knowing　themselves　what　and　why　they　were　shouting。
One　of　the　hindmost　cannons　that　had　been　got　on　to　the　dam　was　turned　off　upon　the　ice。　Crowds　of　soldiers　began　running　from　the　dam　on　to　the　frozen　pond。　The　ice　cracked　un