战争与和平(上)-第29部分

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“Even　on　the　Tsaritsyn　review　ground　they　wouldn’t　be　turned　off。”
“Eh？”　said　the　commander。
At　that　moment　two　figures　on　horseback　came　into　sight　on　the　road　from　the　town；　where　sentinels　had　been　posted　to　give　the　signal。　They　were　an　adjutant；　and　a　Cossack　riding　behind　him。
The　adjutant　had　been　sent　by　the　commander…in…chief　to　confirm　to　the　commander　what　had　not　been　clearly　stated　in　the　previous　order；　namely；　that　the　commander…in…chief　wished　to　inspect　the　regiment　exactly　in　the　order　in　which　it　had　arrived—wearing　their　overcoats；　and　carrying　their　baggage；　and　without　any　sort　of　preparation。
A　member　of　the　Hofkriegsrath　from　Vienna　had　been　with　Kutuzov　the　previous　day；　proposing　and　demanding　that　he　should　move　on　as　quickly　as　possible　to　effect　a　junction　with　the　army　of　Archduke　Ferdinand　and　Mack；　and　Kutuzov；　not　considering　this　combination　advisable；　had　intended；　among　other　arguments　in　support　of　his　view；　to　point　out　to　the　Austrian　general　the　pitiable　condition　in　which　were　the　troops　that　had　arrived　from　Russia。　It　was　with　this　object；　indeed；　that　he　had　meant　to　meet　the　regiment；　so　that　the　worse　the　condition　of　the　regiment；　the　better　pleased　the　commander…in…chief　would　be　with　it。　Though　the　adjutant　did　not　know　these　details；　he　gave　the　general　in　command　of　the　regiment　the　message　that　the　commander…in…chief　absolutely　insisted　on　the　men　being　in　their　overcoats　and　marching　order；　and　that；　if　the　contrary　were　the　case；　the　commander…in…chief　would　be　displeased。
On　hearing　this　the　general’s　head　sank；　he　shrugged　his　shoulders；　and　flung　up　his　hands　with　a　choleric　gesture。
“Here’s　a　mess　we’ve　made　of　it；”　he　said。　“Why；　didn’t　I　tell　you；　Mihail　Mitritch；　that　on　the　march　meant　in　their　overcoats；”　he　said　reproachfully　to　the　major。　“Ah；　my　God！”　he　added；　and　stepped　resolutely　forward。　“Captains　of　the　companies！”　he　shouted　in　a　voice　used　to　command。　“Sergeants！…　Will　his　excellency　be　coming　soon？”　he　said；　turning　to　the　adjutant　with　an　expression　of　respectful　deference；　that　related　obviously　only　to　the　person　he　was　speaking　of。
“In　an　hour’s　time；　I　believe。”
“Have　we　time　to　change　clothes？”
“I　can’t　say；　general。…”
The　general；　going　himself　among　the　ranks；　gave　orders　for　the　men　to　change　back　to　their　overcoats。　The　captains　ran　about　among　the　companies；　the　sergeants　bustled　to　and　fro　（the　overcoats　were　not　quite　up　to　the　mark）；　and　instantaneously　the　squadrons；　that　had　been　in　regular　order　and　silent；　were　heaving　to　and　fro；　straggling　apart　and　humming　with　talk。　The　soldiers　ran　backwards　and　forwards　in　all　directions；　stooping　with　their　shoulders　thrown　back；　drawing　their　knapsacks　off　over　their　heads；　taking　out　their　overcoats　and　lifting　their　arms　up　to　thrust　them　into　the　sleeves。
Half　an　hour　later　everything　was　in　its　former　good　order　again；　only　the　squadrons　were　now　grey　instead　of　black。　The　general　walked　in　front　of　the　regiment　again　with　his　quivering　strut；　and　scanned　it　from　some　distance。
“What　next？　what’s　this！”　he　shouted；　stopping　short。　“Captain　of　the　third　company！”
“The　captain　of　the　third　company　to　the　general！　The　captain　to　the　general　of　the　third　company　to　the　captain！”　…　voices　were　heard　along　the　ranks；　and　an　adjutant　ran　to　look　for　the　tardy　officer。　When　the　sound　of　the　officious　voices；　varying　the　command；　and；　by　now；　crying；　“the　general　to　the　third　company；”　reached　their　destination；　the　officer　called　for　emerged　from　behind　his　company；　and；　though　he　was　an　elderly　man　and　not　accustomed　to　running；　he　moved　at　a　quick　trot　towards　the　general；　stumbling　awkwardly　over　the　toes　of　his　boots。　The　captain’s　face　showed　the　uneasiness　of　a　schoolboy　who　is　called　up　to　repeat　an　unlearnt　lesson。　Patches　came　out　on　his　red　nose　（unmistakably　due　to　intemperance）；　and　he　did　not　know　how　to　keep　his　mouth　steady。　The　general　looked　the　captain　up　and　down　as　he　ran　panting　up；　slackening　his　pace　as　he　drew　nearer。
“You’ll　soon　be　dressing　your　men　in　petticoats！　What’s　the　meaning　of　it？”　shouted　the　general；　thrusting　out　his　lower　jaw　and　pointing　in　the　ranks　of　the　third　division　to　a　soldier　in　an　overcoat　of　a　colour　different　from　the　rest。　“Where　have　you　been　yourself？　The　commander…in…chief　is　expected；　and　you’re　not　in　your　place？　Eh？　…　I’ll　teach　you　to　rig　your　men　out　in　dressing…gowns　for　inspection！　…　Eh？”
The　captain；　never　taking　his　eyes　off　his　superior　officer；　pressed　the　peak　of　his　cap　more　and　more　tightly　with　his　two　fingers；　as　though　he　saw　in　this　compression　his　only　hope　of　safety。
“Well；　why　don’t　you　speak？　Who’s　that　dressed　up　like　a　Hungarian？”　the　general　jested　bitterly。
“Your　excellency　…”
“Well；　what’s　your　excellency？　Your　excellency！　Your　excellency！　But　what　that　means；　your　excellency；　nobody　knows。”
“Your　excellency；　that’s　Dolohov；　the　degraded　officer；”　the　captain　said　softly。
“Well；　is　he　degraded　to　be　a　field…marshal；　or　a　common　soldier？　If　he’s　a　soldier；　then　he　must　be　dressed　like　all　the　rest；　according　to　regulation。”
“Your　excellency；　you　gave　him　leave　yourself　on　the　march。”
“Gave　him　leave？　There；　you’re　always　like　that；　you　young　men；”　said　the　general；　softening　a　little。　“Gave　him　leave？　If　one　says　a　word　to　you；　you　go　and　…”　The　general　paused。　“One　says　a　word　to　you；　and　you　go　and…Eh？”　he　said　with　renewed　irritation。　“Be　so　good　as　to　clothe　your　men　decently。…”
And　the　general；　looking　round　at　the　adjutant；　walked　with　his　quivering　strut　towards　the　regiment。　It　was　obvious　that　he　was　pleased　with　his　own　display　of　anger；　and　that；　walking　through　the　regiment；　he　was　trying　to　find　a　pretext　for　wrath。　Falling　foul　of　one　officer　for　an　unpolished　ensign；　of　another　for　the　unevenness　of　the　rank；　he　approached　the　third　company。
“How　are　you　standing？　Where　is　your　leg？　Where　is　your　leg？”　the　general　shouted　with　a　note　of　anguish　in　his　voice；　stopping　five　men　off　Dolohov；　who　was　wearing　his　blue　overcoat。　Dolohov　slowly　straightened　his　bent　leg；　and　looked　with　his　clear；　insolent　eyes　straight　in　the　general’s　face。
“Why　are　you　in　a　blue　coat？　Off　with　it！…Sergeant！　change　his　coat…the　dir…”　Before　he　had　time　to　finish　the　word—
“General；　I　am　bound　to　obey　orders；　but　I　am　not　bound　to　put　up　with…”　Dolohov　hastened　to　say。
“No　talking　in　the　ranks！　…　No　talking；　no　talking！”
“Not　bound　to　put　up　with　insults；”　Dolohov　went　on；　loudly　and　clearly。　The　eyes　of　the　general　and　the　soldier　met。　The　general　paused；　angrily　pulling　down　his　stiff　scarf。
“Change　your　coat；　if　you　please；”　he　said　as　he　walked　away。


Chapter　2
“COMING！”　the　sentinel　shouted　at　that　moment。　The　general；　turning　red；　ran　to　his　horse；　with　trembling　hands　caught　at　the　stirrup；　swung　himself　up；　settled　himself　in　the　saddle；　drew　out　his　sword；　and　with　a　pleased　and　resolute　face　opened　his　mouth　on　one　side；　in　readiness　to　shout。　The　regiment　fluttered　all　over；　like　a　bird　preening　its　wings；　and　subsided　into　stillness。
“Silence！”　roared　the　general；　in　a　soul…quaking　voice；　expressing　at　once　gladness　on　his　own　account；　severity　as　regards　the　regiment；　and　welcome　as　regards　the　approaching　commander…in…chief。
A　high；　blue　Vienna　coach　with　several　horses　was　driving　at　a　smart　trot；　rumbling　on　its　springs；　along　the　broad　unpaved　high…road；　with　trees　planted　on　each　side　of　it。　The　general’s　suite　and　an　escort　of　Croats　galloped　after　the　coach。　Beside　Kutuzov　sat　an　Austrian　general　in　a　white　uniform；　that　looked　strange　among　the　black　Russian　ones。　The　coach　drew　up　on　reaching　the　regiment。　Kutuzov　and　the　Austrian　general　were　talking　of　something　in　low　voices；　and　Kutuzov　smiled　slightly　as；　treading　heavily；　he　put　his　foot　on　the　carriage　step；　exactly　as　though　those　two　thousand　men　gazing　breathlessly　at　him　and　at　their　general；　did　not　exist　at　all。
The　word　of　command　rang　out；　again　the　regiment　quivered　with　a　clanking　sound　as　it　presented　arms。　In　the　deathly　silence　the　weak　voice　of　the　commander…in…chief　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；　smilin