战争与和平(上)-第30部分

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　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　lines　of　his　ironically…smiling　mouth。
“Well；　that’s　all　right　then；”　the　general　went　on。　“A　glass　of　brandy　to　every　man　from　me；”　he　added；　so　that　the　soldiers　could　hear。　“I　thank　you　all。　God　be　praised！”　And　riding　round　the　company；　he　galloped　off　to　another。
“Well；　he’s　really　a　good　fellow；　one　can　get　on　very　well　under　him；”　said　Timohin　to　the　subaltern　officer　walking　beside　him。
“The　king　of　hearts；　that’s　the　only　word　for　him；”　the　subaltern　said；　laughing。　（The　general　was　nicknamed　the　king　of　hearts。）
The　cheerful　state　of　mind　of　the　officers　after　the　inspection　was　shared　by　the　soldiers。　The　companies　went　along　merrily。　Soldiers’　voices　could　be　heard　on　all　sides　chatting　away。
“Why；　don’t　they　say　Kutuzov’s　blind　in　one　eye？”
“To　be　sure　he　is。　Quite　blind　of　one　eye。”
“Nay　…　lads；　he’s　more　sharp…eyed　than　you　are。　See　how　he　looked　at　our　boots　and　things。”　…
“I　say；　mate；　when　he　looked　at　my　legs　…　well；　thinks　I　…”
“And　the　other　was　an　Austrian　with　him；　that　looked　as　if　he’d　been　chalked　all　over。　As　white　as　flour。　I　bet　they　rub　him　up　as　we　rub　up　our　guns。”
“I　say；　Fedeshou　…　did　he　say　anything　as　to　when　the　battles　are　going　to　begin？　You　stood　nearer。　They　did　say　Bonaparte　himself　was　in　Brunovo。”
“Bonaparte！　What　nonsense　the　fellow　talks！　What　won’t　you　know　next！　Now　it’s　the　Prussian　that’s　revolting。　The　Austrian；　do　you　see；　is　pacifying　him。　When　he’s　quiet；　then　the　war　will　begin　with　Bonaparte。　And　he　talks　of　Bonaparte’s　being　in　Brunovo！　It’s　plain　the　fellow’s　a　fool。　You’d　better　keep　your　ears　open。”
“Those　devils　of　quartermasters！　…　The　fifth　company’s　turned　into　the　village　by　now；　and　they’re　cooking　their　porridge；　and　we’re　not　there　yet。”
“Give　us　a　biscuit；　old　man。”
“And　did　you　give　me　tobacco　yesterday？　All　right；　my　lad。　Well；　well；　God　be　with　you。”
“They　might　have　made　a　halt；　or　we’ll　have　to　do　another　four　miles　with　nothing　to　eat。”
“I　say；　it　was　fine　how　those　Germans　gave　us　carriages。　One　drove　along；　something　like。”
“But　here；　lads；　the　folks　are　regularly　stripped　bare。　There　it　was　all　Poles　of　some　sort；　all　under　the　Russian　crown；　but　now　we’ve　come　to　the　regular　Germans；　my　boy。”
“Singers　to　the　front；”　the　captain　called。　And　from　the　different　ranks　about　twenty　men　advanced　to　the　front。　The　drummer；　who　was　their　leader；　turned　round　facing　the　chorus　and　waving　his　arm；　struck　up　a　soldier’s　song；　beginning：　“The　sun　was　scarcely　dawning；”　and　ending　with　the　words：　“So；　lads；　we’ll　march　to　glory　with　Father　Kamensky。”　…　This　song　had　been　composed　in　Turkey；　and　now　was　sung　in　Austria；　the　only　change　being　the　substitution　of　the　words　“Father　Kutuzov”　for　“Father　Kamensky。”
Jerking　out　the　last　words　in　soldierly　fashion　and　waving　his　arms；　as　though　he　were　flinging　something　on　the　ground；　the　drummer；　a　lean；　handsome　soldier　of　forty；　looked　sternly　at　the　soldier…chorus　and　frowned。　Then；　having　satisfied　himself　that　all　eyes　were　fixed　upon　him；　he　gesticulated；　as　though　he　were　carefully　lifting　some　unseen　precious　object　over　his　head　in　both　hands；　holding　it　there　some　seconds；　and　all　at　once　with　a　desperate　movement　flinging　it　away。
“Ah；　the　threshold　of　my　cottage；
My　new　cottage。”
Here　twenty　voices　caught　up　the　refrain；　and　the　castanet　player；　in　spite　of　the　weight　of　his　weapon　and　knapsack；　bounded　nimbly　forward；　and　walked　backwards　facing　the　company；　shaking　his　shoulders；　and　seeming　to　menace　some　one　with　the　castanets。　The　soldiers　stepped　out　in　time　to　the　song；　swinging　their　arms　and　unconsciously　falling　into　step。　Behind　the　company　came　the　sound　of　wheels；　the　rumble　of　springs；　and　the　tramp　of　horses。　Kutuzov　and　his　suite　were　going　back　to　the　town。　The　commander…in…chief　made　a　sign　for　the　soldiers　to　go　on　freely；　and　he　and　all　his　suite　looked　as　though　they　took　pleasure　in　the　sound　of　the　singing；　and　the　spectacle　of　the　dancing　soldier　and　the　gaily；　smartly　marching