第77章

第77章thefrenchhadtimetofirethreevolleysofgrape-shotbeforethehussarsgotbacktotheirhorses.twowerebadlyaimed,andtheshotflewoverthem,butthelastvolleyfellinthemiddleofthegroupofhussarsandknockeddownthreemen.

rostov,absorbedbyhisrelationswithbogdanitch,steppedonthebridge,notknowingwhathehadtodo.therewasnoonetoslashatwithhissword（thatwashowhealwayspicturedabattletohimself）,andhecouldbeofnouseinburningthebridge,becausehehadnotbroughtwithhimanywispsofstraw,liketheothersoldiers.hestoodandlookedabouthim,whensuddenlytherewasarattleonthebridge,likealotofnutsbeingscattered,andoneofthehussars,theonestandingnearesthim,fellwithagroanontherailing.rostovranuptohimwiththeothers.againsomeoneshouted.“stretchers！”fourmentookholdofthehussarandbeganliftinghimup.“oooo！…letmebe,forchrist’ssake！”shriekedthewoundedman,butstilltheyliftedhimupandlaidhimonastretcher.nikolayrostovturnedaway,andbeganstaringintothedistance,atthewatersofthedanube,atthesky,atthesun,asthoughheweresearchingforsomething.howfairthatskyseemed,howblueandcalmanddeep.howbrilliantandtriumphantseemedthesettingsun.withwhatanenticingglimmershonethewaterofthefarawaydanube.andfairerstillwerethefar-awaymountainsthatshowedbluebeyondthedanube,thenunnery,themysteriousgorges,thepineforests,filledwithmisttothetree-tops…thereallwaspeaceandhappiness.…“thereisnothing,nothingicouldwishfor,ifonlyiwerethere,”thoughtrostov.“inmyselfaloneandinthatsunshinethereissomuchhappiness,whilehere…groans,agonies,andthisuncertainty,thishurry.…heretheyareshoutingsomethingagainandagain,allofthemarerunningbacksomewhere,andi’mrunningwiththem,andhereisit,it,deathhangingoverme,allroundme.…oneinstant,andishallneverseethatsunshine,thatwater,thatmountaingorgeagain.…”atthatmomentthesunwentbehindtheclouds;morestretcherscameintoviewaheadofrostov.andtheterrorofdeathandofthestretchers,andthelossofthesunshineandlife,allblendedintoonesensationofsickeningfear.

“goodgod,thouwhoartinthatsky,saveandforgive,andprotectme,”rostovwhisperedtohimself.

thehussarsranbacktotheirhorses;theirvoicesgrewlouderandmoreassured;thestretchersdisappearedfromsight.

“well,lad,soyou’vehadasniffofpowder！”vaskadenisovshoutedinhisear.

“it’sallover,butiamacoward,yes,iamacoward,”thoughtrostov,andwithaheavysighhetookhisrook,whohadbeguntogolameofoneleg,fromthemanwhoheldhimandbeganmounting.

“whatwasthat—grape-shot？”heaskedofdenisov.

“yes,andsomethinglikeittoo,”crieddenisov;“theyworkedtheirgunsinfinestyle.butit’sanastybusiness.acavalryattack’sapleasantthing—slashawayatthedogs;butthisisforallthedevillikeaimingatatarget.”

anddenisovrodeawaytoagroupstandingnotfarfromrostov,consistingofthecolonel,nesvitsky,zherkov,andtheofficerofthesuite.

“itseemsasifnoonenoticedit,though,”rostovthoughttohimself.andindeednoonehadnoticeditatall,foreveryonewasfamiliarwiththefeelingthattheensign,neverbeforeunderfire,wasexperiencingforthefirsttime.

“nowyou’llhavesomethingtotalkabout,”saidzherkov;“they’llbepromotingmeasub-lieutenantbeforeiknowwhereiam,eh？”

“informtheprincethatihaveburntthebridge,”saidthecolonel,inacheerfulandtriumphanttone.

“andifheinquireswithwhatlosses？”

“notworthmentioning,”boomedthecolonel;“twohussarswoundedandonestarkdeadonthespot,”hesaid,withundisguisedcheerfulness.thegermanwasunabletorepressasmileofsatisfactionashesonorouslyenunciatedtheidiomaticrussiancolloquialismofthelastphrase.