affair public. You are offended at being put on duty a bit, but
why not apologize to an old and honorable officer? Whatever Bogdanich may be, anyway he is an honorable and brave
old colonel! You’re quick at taking offense, but you don’t
mind disgracing the whole regiment!’ The staff captain’s
voice began to tremble. ‘You have been in the regiment next
to no time, my lad, you’re here today and tomorrow you’ll
be appointed adjutant somewhere and can snap your fingers
when it is said ‘There are thieves among the Pavlograd officers!’ But it’s not all the same to us! Am I not right, Denisov?
It’s not the same!’
Denisov remained silent and did not move, but occasionally looked with his glittering black eyes at Rostov.
‘You value your own pride and don’t wish to apologize,’
continued the staff captain, ‘but we old fellows, who have
grown up in and, God willing, are going to die in the regiment, we prize the honor of the regiment, and Bogdanich
knows it. Oh, we do prize it, old fellow! And all this is not
right, it’s not right! You may take offense or not but I always
stick to mother truth. It’s not right!’
And the staff captain rose and turned away from Rostov.
‘That’s twue, devil take it’ shouted Denisov, jumping up.
‘Now then, Wostov, now then!’
Rostov, growing red and pale alternately, looked first at
one officer and then at the other.
‘No, gentlemen, no… you mustn’t think… I quite understand. You’re wrong to think that of me… I… for me… for
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the honor of the regiment I’d… Ah well, I’ll show that in
action, and for me the honor of the flag… Well, never mind,
it’s true I’m to blame, to blame all round. Well, what else do
you want?..’
‘Come, that’s right, Count!’ cried the staff captain, turning round and clapping Rostov on the shoulder with his big
hand.
‘I tell you,’ shouted Denisov, ‘he’s a fine fellow.’
‘That’s better, Count,’ said the staff captain, beginning to
address Rostov by his title, as if in recognition of his confession. ‘Go and apologize, your excellency. Yes, go!’
‘Gentlemen, I’ll do anything. No one shall hear a word
from me,’ said Rostov in an imploring voice, ‘but I can’t
apologize, by God I can’t, do what you will! How can I go
and apologize like a little boy asking forgiveness?’
Denisov began to laugh.
‘It’ll be worse for you. Bogdanich is vindictive and you’ll
pay for your obstinacy,’ said Kirsten.
‘No, on my word it’s not obstinacy! I can’t describe the
feeling. I can’t..’
‘Well, it’s as you like,’ said the staff captain. ‘And what
has become of that scoundrel?’ he asked Denisov.
‘He has weported himself sick, he’s to be stwuck off the
list tomowwow,’ muttered Denisov.
‘It is an illness, there’s no other way of explaining it,’ said
the staff captain.
‘Illness or not, he’d better not cwoss my path. I’d kill
him!’ shouted Denisov in a bloodthirsty tone.
Just then Zherkov entered the room.
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‘What brings you here?’ cried the officers turning to the
newcomer.
‘We’re to go into action, gentlemen! Mack has surrendered with his whole army.’
‘It’s not true!’
‘I’ve seen him myself!’
‘What? Saw the real Mack? With hands and feet?’
‘Into action! Into action! Bring him a bottle for such
news! But how did you come here?’
‘I’ve been sent back to the regiment all on account of
that devil, Mack. An Austrian general complained of me.
I congratulated him on Mack’s arrival… What’s the matter,
Rostov? You look as if you’d just come out of a hot bath.’
‘Oh, my dear fellow, we’re in such a stew here these last
two days.’
The regimental adjutant came in and confirmed the
news brought by Zherkov. They were under orders to advance next day.
‘We’re going into action, gentlemen!’
‘Well, thank God! We’ve been sitting here too long!’
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Chapter VI
Kutuzov fell back toward Vienna, destroying behind
him the bridges over the rivers Inn (at Braunau) and Traun
(near Linz). On October 23 the Russian troops were crossing the river Enns. At midday the Russian baggage train,
the artillery, and columns of troops were defiling through
the town of Enns on both sides of the bridge.
It was a warm, rainy, autumnal day. The wide expanse
that opened out before the heights on which the Russian
batteries stood guarding the bridge was at times veiled by
a diaphanous curtain of slanting rain, and then, suddenly spread out in the sunlight, far-distant objects could be
clearly seen glittering as though freshly varnished. Down
below, the little town could be seen with its white, redroofed houses, its cathedral, and its bridge, on both sides
of which streamed jostling masses of Russian troops. At the
bend of the Danube, vessels, an island, and a castle with a
park surrounded by the waters of the confluence of the Enns
and the Danube became visible, and the rocky left bank of
the Danube covered with pine forests, with a mystic background of green treetops and bluish gorges. The turrets of a
convent stood out beyond a wild virgin pine forest, and far
away on the other side of the Enns the enemy’s horse patrols
could be discerned.
Among the field guns on the brow of the hill the gen244
War and Peace
eral in command of the rearguard stood with a staff officer,
scanning the country through his fieldglass. A little behind
them Nesvitski, who had been sent to the rearguard by the
commander in chief, was sitting on the trail of a gun carriage. A Cossack who accompanied him had handed him a
knapsack and a flask, and Nesvitski was treating some officers to pies and real doppelkummel. The officers gladly
gathered round him, some on their knees, some squatting
Turkish fashion on the wet grass.
‘Yes, the Austrian prince who built that castle was no
fool. It’s a fine place! Why are you not eating anything, gentlemen?’ Nesvitski was saying.
‘Thank you very much, Prince,’ answered one of the
officers, pleased to be talking to a staff officer of such importance. ‘It’s a lovely place! We passed close to the park and
saw two deer… and what a splendid house!’
‘Look, Prince,’ said another, who would have dearly liked
to take another pie but felt shy, and therefore pretended to
be examining the countryside‘See, our infantrymen have
already got there. Look there in the meadow behind the village, three of them are dragging something. They’ll ransack
that castle,’ he remarked with evident approval.
‘So they will,’ said Nesvitski. ‘No, but what I should like,’
added he, munching a pie in his moist-lipped handsome
mouth, ‘would be to slip in over there.’
He pointed with a smile to a turreted nunnery, and his
eyes narrowed and gleamed.
‘That would be fine, gentlemen!’
The officers laughed.
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‘Just to flutter the nuns a bit. They say there are Italian
girls among them. On my word I’d give five years of my life
for it!’
‘They must be feeling dull, too,’ said one of the bolder officers, laughing.
Meanwhile the staff officer standing in front pointed
out something to the general, who looked through his field
glass.
‘Yes, so it is, so it is,’ said the general angrily, lowering the
field glass and shrugging his shoulders, ‘so it is! They’ll be
fired on at the crossing. And why are they dawdling there?’
On the opposite side the enemy could be seen by the naked eye, and from their battery a milk-white cloud arose.
Then came the distant report of a shot, and our troops could
be seen hurrying to the crossing.
Nesvitski rose, puffing, and went up to the general, smiling.
‘Would not your excellency like a little refreshment?’ he
said.
‘It’s a bad business,’ said the general without answering
him, ‘our men have been wasting time.’
‘Hadn’t I better ride over, your excellency?’ asked Nesvitski.
‘Yes, please do,’ answered the general, and he repeated
the order that had already once been given in detail: ‘and
tell the hussars that they are to cross last and to fire the
bridge as I ordered; and the inflammable material on the
bridge must be reinspected.’
‘Very good,’ answered Nesvitski.
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He called the Cossack with his horse, told him to put
away the knapsack and flask, and swung his heavy person
easily into the saddle.
‘I’ll really call in on the nuns,’ he said to the officers who
watched him smilingly, and he rode off by the winding path
down the hill.
‘Now then, let’s see how far it will carry, Captain. Just
try!’ said the general, turning to an artillery officer. ‘Have a
little fun to pass the time.’
‘Crew, to your guns!’ commanded the officer.
In a moment the men came running gaily from their
campfires and began loading.
‘One!’ came the command.
Number one jumped briskly aside. The gun rang out
with a deafening metallic roar, and a whistling grenade
flew above the heads of our troops below the hill and fell far
short of the enemy, a little smoke showing the spot where
it burst.
The faces of officers and men brightened up at the sound.
Everyone got up and began watching the movements of our
troops below, as plainly visible as if but a stone’s throw away,
and the movements of the approaching enemy farther off.
At the same instant the sun came fully out from behind the
clouds, and the clear sound of the solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine merged in a single joyous and
spirited impression.
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Chapter VII
Two of the enemy’s shots had already flown across the
bridge, where there was a crush. Halfway across stood Prince
Nesvitski, who had alighted from his horse and whose big
body was body was jammed against the railings. He looked
back laughing to the Cossack who stood a few steps behind
him holding two horses by their bridles. Each time Prince
Nesvitski tried to move on, soldiers and carts pushed him
back again and pressed him against the railings, and all he
could do was to smile.
‘What a fine fellow you are, friend!’ said the Cossack to
a convoy soldier with a wagon, who was pressing onto the
infantrymen who were crowded together close to his wheels
and his horses. ‘What a fellow! You can’t wait a moment!
Don’t you see the general wants to pass?’
But the convoyman took no notice of the word ‘general’
and shouted at the soldiers who were blocking his way. ‘Hi
there, boys! Keep to the
