战争与和平(上)-第37部分

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ent。”　That　is　how　every　man；　even　if　he　does　not　think；　feels　in　the　sight　of　the　enemy；　and　that　feeling　gives　a　peculiar　brilliance　and　delightful　keenness　to　one’s　impressions　of　all　that　takes　place　at　such　moments。
On　the　rising　ground　occupied　by　the　enemy；　there　rose　the　smoke　of　a　shot；　and　a　cannon　ball　flew　whizzing　over　the　heads　of　the　squadron　of　hussars。　The　officers；　who　had　been　standing　together；　scattered　in　different　directions。　The　hussars　began　carefully　getting　their　horses　back　into　line。　The　whole　squadron　subsided　into　silence。　All　the　men　were　looking　at　the　enemy　in　front　and　at　the　commander　of　the　squadron；　expecting　an　order　to　be　given。　Another　cannon　ball　flew　by　them；　and　a　third。　There　was　no　doubt　that　they　were　firing　at　the　hussars。　But　the　cannon　balls；　whizzing　regularly　and　rapidly；　flew　over　the　heads　of　the　hussars　and　struck　the　ground　beyond　them。　The　hussars　did　not　look　round；　but　at　each　sound　of　a　flying　ball；　as　though　at　the　word　of　command；　the　whole　squadron；　with　their　faces　so　alike；　through　all　their　dissimilarity；　rose　in　the　stirrups；　holding　their　breath；　as　the　ball　whizzed　by；　then　sank　again。　The　soldiers　did　not　turn　their　heads；　but　glanced　out　of　the　corners　of　their　eyes　at　one　another；　curious　to　see　the　effect　on　their　comrades。　Every　face　from　Denisov　down　to　the　bugler　showed　about　the　lips　and　chin　the　same　lines　of　conflict　and　nervous　irritability　and　excitement。　The　sergeant　frowned；　looking　the　soldiers　up　and　down；　as　though　threatening　them　with　punishment。　Ensign　Mironov　ducked　at　the　passing　of　each　cannon　ball。　On　the　left　flank；　Rostov　on　his　Rook—a　handsome　beast；　in　spite　of　his　unsound　legs—had　the　happy　air　of　a　schoolboy　called　up　before　a　large　audience　for　an　examination　in　which　he　is　confident　that　he　will　distinguish　himself。　He　looked　serenely　and　brightly　at　every　one；　as　though　calling　upon　them　all　to　notice　how　unconcerned　he　was　under　fire。　But　into　his　face　too　there　crept；　against　his　will；　that　line　about　the　mouth　that　betrayed　some　new　and　strenuous　feeling。
“Who’s　bobbing　up　and　down　there？　Ensign　Mironov！　Not　the　thing！　look　at　me！”　roared　Denisov；　who　could　not　keep　still　in　one　place；　but　galloped　to　and　fro　before　the　squadron。
The　snub…nosed；　black；　hairy　face　of　Vaska　Denisov；　and　his　little；　battered　figure；　and　the　sinewy；　short…fingered　hand　in　which　he　held　the　hilt　of　his　naked　sword—his　whole　figure　was　just　as　it　always　was；　especially　in　the　evening　after　he　had　drunk　a　couple　of　bottles。　He　was　only　rather　redder　in　the　face　than　usual；　and　tossing　back　his　shaggy　head；　as　birds　do　when　they　drink；　his　little　legs　mercilessly　driving　the　spurs　into　his　good　horse　Bedouin；　he　galloped　to　the　other　flank　of　the　squadron；　looking　as　though　he　were　falling　backwards　in　the　saddle；　and　shouted　in　a　husky　voice　to　the　men　to　look　to　their　pistols。　He　rode　up　to　Kirsten。　The　staff…captain　on　his　stout；　steady　charger　rode　at　a　walking　pace　to　meet　him。　The　staff…captain’s　face　with　its　long　whiskers　was　serious；　as　always；　but　his　eyes　looked　brighter　than　usual。
“Well；”　he　said　to　Denisov；　“it　won’t　come　to　a　fight。　You’ll　see；　we　shall　retreat　again。”
“Devil　knows　what　they’re　about！”　growled　Denisov。　“Ah；　Rostov！”　he　called　to　the　ensign；　noticing　his　beaming　face。　“Well；　you’ve　not　had　long　to　wait。”　And　he　smiled　approvingly；　unmistakably　pleased　at　the　sight　of　the　ensign。　Rostov　felt　perfectly　blissful。　At　that　moment　the　colonel　appeared　at　the　bridge。　Denisov　galloped　up　to　him。
“Your　excellency；　let　us　attack！　we’ll　settle　them。”
“Attack；　indeed！”　said　the　colonel　in　a　bored　voice；　puckering　his　face　up　as　though　at　a　teasing　fly。　“And　what　are　you　stopping　here　for？　You　see　the　flanks　are　retreating。　Lead　the　squadron　back。”
The　squadron　crossed　the　bridge　and　passed　out　of　range　of　the　enemy’s　guns　without　losing　a　single　man。　It　was　followed　by　the　second　squadron；　and　the　Cossacks　last　of　all　crossed；　leaving　the　further　side　of　the　river　clear。
The　two　squadrons　of　the　Pavlograd　regiment；　after　crossing　the　bridge；　rode　one　after　the　other　up　the　hill。　Their　colonel；　Karl　Bogdanitch　Schubert；　had　joined　Denisov’s　squadron；　and　was　riding　at　a　walking　pace　not　far　from　Rostov；　taking　no　notice　of　him；　though　this　was　the　first　time　they　had　met　since　the　incident　in　connection　with　Telyanin。　Rostov；　feeling　himself　at　the　front　in　the　power　of　the　man　towards　whom　be　now　admitted　that　he　had　been　to　blame；　never　took　his　eyes　off　the　athletic　back；　and　flaxen　head　and　red　neck　of　the　colonel。　It　seemed　to　Rostov　at　one　time　that　Bogdanitch　was　only　feigning　inattention；　and　that　his　whole　aim　was　now　to　test　the　ensign’s　pluck；　and　he　drew　himself　up　and　looked　about　him　gaily。　Then　he　fancied　that　Bogdanitch　was　riding　close　by　him　on　purpose　to　show　off　his　own　valour。　Then　the　thought　struck　him　that　his　enemy　was　now　sending　the　squadron　to　a　hopeless　attack　on　purpose　to　punish　him；　Rostov。　Then　he　dreamed　of　how　after　the　attack　he　would　go　up　to　him　as　he　lay　wounded；　and　magnanimously　hold　out　his　hand　in　reconciliation。　The　high…shouldered　figure　of　Zherkov；　who　was　known　to　the　Pavlograd　hussars；　as　he　had　not　long　before　left　their　regiment；　rode　up　to　the　colonel。　After　Zherkov　had　been　dismissed　from　the　staff　of　the　commander…in…chief；　he　had　not　remained　in　the　regiment；　saying　that　he　was　not　such　a　fool　as　to　go　to　hard　labour　at　the　front　when　he　could　get　more　pay　for　doing　nothing　on　the　staff；　and　he　had　succeeded　in　getting　appointed　an　orderly　on　the　staff　of　Prince　Bagration。　He　rode　up　to　his　old　colonel　with　an　order　from　the　commander　of　the　rear　guard。
“Colonel；”　he　said；　with　his　gloomy　seriousness；　addressing　Rostov’s　enemy；　and　looking　round　at　his　comrades；　“there’s　an　order　to　go　back　and　burn　the　bridge。”
“An　order；　who　to？”　asked　the　colonel　grimly。
“Well；　I　don’t　know；　colonel；　who　to；”　answered　the　cornet；　seriously；　“only　the　prince　commanded　me：　‘Ride　and　tell　the　colonel　the　hussars　are　to　make　haste　back　and　burn　the　bridge。’　”
Zherkov　was　followed　by　an　officer　of　the　suite；　who　rode　up　to　the　colonel　with　the　same　command。　After　the　officer　of　the　suite　the　stout　figure　of　Nesvitsky　was　seen　riding　up　on　a　Cossack’s　horse；　which　had　some　trouble　to　gallop　with　him。
“Why；　colonel；”　he　shouted；　while　still　galloping　towards　him；　“I　told　you　to　burn　the　bridge；　and　now　some　one’s　got　it　wrong；　they’re　all　frantic　over　there；　there’s　no　making　out　anything。”
The　colonel　in　a　leisurely　way　stopped　the　regiment　and　turned　to　Nesvitsky。
“You　told　me　about　burning　materials；”　he　said；　“but　about　burning　it；　you　never　said　a　word。”
“Why；　my　good　man；”　said　Nesvitsky；　as　he　halted；　taking　off　his　forage…cap　and　passing　his　plump　hand　over　his　hair；　which　was　drenched　with　sweat；　“what　need　to　say　the　bridge　was　to　be　burnt　when　you　put　burning　materials　to　it？”
“I’m　not　your　‘good　man；’　M。　le　staff…officer；　and　you　never　told　me　to　set　fire　to　the　bridge！　I　know　my　duty；　and　it’s　my　habit　to　carry　out　my　orders　strictly。　You　said　the　bridge　will　be　burnt；　but　who　was　going　to　burn　it　I　couldn’t　tell。”
“Well；　that’s　always　the　way；”　said　Nesvitsky；　with　a　wave　of　his　arm。　“How　do　you　come　here？”　he　added；　addressing　Zherkov。
“Why；　about　the　same　order。　You’re　sopping　though；　you　want　to　be　rubbed　down。”
“You　said；　M。　le　staff…officer　…”　pursued　the　colonel　in　an　aggrieved　tone。
“Colonel；”　interposed　the　officer　of　the　suite；　“there　is　need　of　haste；　or　the　enemy　will　have　moved　up　their　grape…shot　guns。”
The　colonel　looked　dumbly　at　the　officer　of　the　suite；　at　the　stout　staff…officer；　at　Zherkov；　and　scowled。
“I　will　burn　the　bridge；”　he　said　in　a　solemn　tone；　as　though　he　would　express　that　in　spite　of　everything　they　might　do　to　annoy　him；　he　would　still　do　what　he　ought。
Beating　his　long　muscular　legs　against　his　horse；　as　though　he　were　to　blame　for　it　all；　the　colonel　moved　forward　and　commanded　the　second　squadron；　the　one　under　Denisov’s　command；　in　which　Rostov　was　serving；　to　turn　back　to　the　bridge。
“Yes；　it　really　is　so；”　thought　Rostov；　“he　wants　to　test　me！”　His　heart　throbbed　and　the　blood　rushed　to　his　face。　“Let　him　see　whether　I’m　a　coward！”　he　thought。
Again　all　the　light…hearted　faces　of　the　men　of　the　squadron　wore　that　grave　line；　which　had　come　upon　them　when　they　were　under　fire。　Rostov　looked　steadily　at　his　enemy；　the　colonel；　trying　to　find　confirmation　of　his　suppositions　on　his　face。　But　the　colonel　never　once　glanced　at　Rostov；　and　looked；　as　he　always　did　at　the　front；　stern　and　solemn。　The　word　of　command　was　given。
“Look　sharp！　look　sharp！”　several　voices　repeated　around　him。
Their　swords　catching　in　the　reins　and　their　spurs　jingling；　the　hussars　dismounted　in　haste；　not　knowing　themselves　what　they　were　to　do。　The　soldiers　crossed　themselves。　Rostov　did　not　look　at　the　colonel　now；　he　had　no　time。　He　dreaded；　with　a　sinking　heart　he　dreaded；　being　left　behind　by　the　hussars。　His　hand　trembled　as　he　gave　his　horse　to　an　orderly；　and　he　felt　that　the　blood　was　rushing　to　his　heart　with　a　thud。　Denisov；　rolling　backwards；　and　shouting　something；　rode　by　him。　Rostov　saw　nothing　but　the　hussars　running　around　him；　clinking　spurs　and　jingling　swords。
“Stretchers！”　shouted　a　voice　behind　him。　Rostov　did　not　think　of　the　meaning　of　the　need　of　stretchers。　He　ran　along；　trying　only　to　be　ahead　of　all。　But　just　at　the　bridge；　not　looking　at　his　feet；　he　got　into　the　slippery；　trodden　mud；　and　stumbling　fell　on　his　hands。　The　others　out…stripped　him。
“On　both　sides；　captain；”　he　heard　shouted　by　the　colonel；　who；　riding　on　ahead；　had　pulled　his　horse　up　near　the　bridge；　with　a　triumphant　and　cheerful　face。
Rostov；　rubbing　his　muddy　hands　on　his　riding…breeches；　looked　round　at　his　enemy；　and　would　have　run　on　further；　imagining　that　the　forwarder　he　went　the　better　it　would　be。　But　though　Bogdanitch　was　not　looking；　and　did　not　recognise　Rostov；　he　shouted　to　him。
“Who　will　go　along　the　middle　of　the　bridge？　On　the　right　side？　Ensign；　back！”　he　shouted　angrily；　and　he　turned　to　Denisov；　who　with　swaggering　bravado　rode　on　horseback