第76章

第76章“stretchers！”shoutedavoicebehindhim.rostovdidnotthinkofthemeaningoftheneedofstretchers.heranalong,tryingonlytobeaheadofall.butjustatthebridge,notlookingathisfeet,hegotintotheslippery,troddenmud,andstumblingfellonhishands.theothersout-strippedhim.

“onbothsides,captain,”heheardshoutedbythecolonel,who,ridingonahead,hadpulledhishorseupnearthebridge,withatriumphantandcheerfulface.

rostov,rubbinghismuddyhandsonhisriding-breeches,lookedroundathisenemy,andwouldhaverunonfurther,imaginingthattheforwarderhewentthebetteritwouldbe.butthoughbogdanitchwasnotlooking,anddidnotrecogniserostov,heshoutedtohim.

“whowillgoalongthemiddleofthebridge？ontherightside？ensign,back！”heshoutedangrily,andheturnedtodenisov,whowitheringbravadorodeonhorsebackontotheplanksofthebridge.

“whyrunrisks,captain？youshoulddismount,”saidthecolonel.

“eh！it’llstriketheguiltyone,”saidvaskadenisov,turninginhissaddle.

meanwhilenesvitsky,zherkov,andtheofficerofthesuitewerestandingtogetheroutofrangeoftheenemy,watchingthelittlegroupofmeninyellowshakoes,dark-greenjackets,embroideredwithfrogs,andblueriding-breeches,swarmingaboutthebridge,andontheothersideoftheriverthebluetunicsandthegroupswithhorses,thatmightsoeasilybetakenforguns,approachinginthedistance.

“willtheyburnthebridgeornot？who’llgettherefirst？willtheyrunthereandburnit,orthefrenchtraintheirgrape-shotonthemandkillthem？”thesewerethequestionsthat,withasinkingoftheheart,eachmanwasaskinghimselfinthegreatmassoftroopsoverlookingthebridge.inthebrillianteveningsunshinetheygazedatthebridgeandthehussarsandatthebluetunics,withbayonetsandguns,movingupontheotherside.

“ugh！thehussarswillbecaught,”saidnesvitsky.“they’renotoutofrangeofgrape-shotnow.”

“hedidwrongtotakesomanymen,”saidtheofficerofthesuite.

“yes,indeed,”saidnesvitsky.“ifhe’dsenttwoboldfellowsitwouldhavedoneaswell.”

“ah,yourexcellency,”putinzherkov,hiseyesfixedonthehussars,thoughhestillspokewithhisna？vemanner,fromwhichonecouldnotguesswhetherhewerespeakingseriouslyornot.“ah,yourexcellency.howyoulookatthings.sendtwomen,butwhowouldgiveusthevladimirandribbonthen？butasitis,eveniftheydopepperthem,onecanrepresentthesquadronandreceivetheribbononeself.ourgoodfriendbogdanitchknowsthewaytodothings.”

“isay,”saidtheofficerofthesuite,“that’sgrape-shot.”

hepointedtothefrenchguns,whichhadbeentakenoutofthegun-carriages,andwerehurriedlymovingaway.

onthefrenchside,smokeroseamongthegroupsthathadcannons.onepuff,asecondandathirdalmostatthesameinstant;andattheverymomentwhentheyheardthesoundofthefirstshot,thererosethesmokeofafourth;twoboomscameoneafteranother,thenathird.

“oh,oh！”moanednesvitsky,clutchingatthehandoftheofficerofthesuite,asthoughinintensepain.“look,amanhasfallen,fallen,fallen！”

“two,ithink.”

“ifiweretsar,i’dnevergotowar,”saidnesvitsky,turningaway.

thefrenchcannonswerespeedilyloadedagain.theinfantryintheirbluetunicswererunningtowardsthebridge.againthepuffsofsmokeroseatdifferentintervals,andthegrape-shotrattledandcrackedonthebridge.butthistimenesvitskycouldnotseewhatwashappeningatthebridge.athickcloudofsmokehadrisenfromit.thehussarshadeededinsettingfiretothebridge,andthefrenchbatterieswerefiringatthemnow,nottohinderthem,butbecausetheirgunshadbeenbroughtupandtheyhadsomeonetofireat.