第638章

第638章“toyourplaces！”avoiceshoutedsuddenly.

therewasacheerfulstiramongtheprisonersandconvoysoldiers,andanairofexpectingsomethingfestiveandsolemn.shoutedcommandscouldbeheardonallsides,andapartyofwell-dressedcavalrysoldiersongoodhorsescametrottingupfromtheleft,makingacircuitroundtheprisoners.everyfaceworethelookofnervousnesscommonlyseenattheapproachofmeninauthority.theprisonershuddledtogetherandwereshovedoutoftheway.theconvoysoldiersformedinranks.

“theemperor！theemperor！themarshal！theduke！…”andthesleekcavalrysoldiershadhardlyriddenbywhenacarriagerattledupdrawnbygreyhorses.pierrehadapassingglimpseoftheserene,handsome,fat,whitefaceofamaninathree-corneredhat.itwasoneofthemarshals.themarshal’seyewascaughtbypierre’sbig,strikingfigure;andintheexpressionwithwhichhefrownedandlookedawaypierrefanciedhesawpityandthedesiretoconcealit.

thegeneralinchargeofthetransportwhippeduphisleanhorse,andgallopedafterthecarriagewithared,panic-strickenface.severalofficersmetinagroup;thesoldierscameroundthem.allhadexcitedanduneasyfaces.

“whatdidhesay？whatwasithesaid？…”pierreheard.

whilethemarshalwasdrivingby,theprisonershadbeenhustledtogetherintoonegroup,andpierrecaughtsightofkarataev,whomhehadnotyetseenthatmorning.hewassitting,wrappedinhislittlemilitarycoat,leaningagainstabirch-tree.hisfacestillworethesamelookofjoyousemotionaswhenhehadbeentellingthestoryofthemerchant,butithadanotherexpressiontoo,alookofsubduedsolemnity.

karataevlookedatpierrewithhiskindly,roundeyes,thatwerebrightnowwithtears,andtherewasanunmistakableappealinthem.heevidentlywantedtosaysomethingtohim.butpierrewasintoogreatdreadforhimself.hemadeasthoughhehadnotseenthatlook,andhastilywalkedaway.

whentheprisonerssetoffagainpierrelookedback.karataevwassittingunderthebirch-treebytheedgeoftheroad,andtwofrenchmenwerebendingoverhiminconversation.pierredidnotlookagain.hewentonlimpingupthehill.

therewasthesoundofashotbehind,atthespotwherekarataevwassitting.pierreheardthatshotdistinctly,butatthemomentthatheheardit,herecalledthathehadnotfinishedreckoninguphowmanystageswerelefttosmolensk,thecalculationhehadbegunbeforethemarshalrodeby.andhebegantoreckon.twofrenchsoldiersranbypierre,oneholdingastillsmokinggun.theywerebothpale,andintheexpressionoftheirfaces—oneofthemglancedtimidlyatpierre—therewassomethinglikewhathehadseenintheyoungsoldierattheexecutioninmoscow.pierrelookedatthesoldierandrememberedhow,thedaybeforeyesterday,themanhadburnthisshirtindryingitbeforethefire,andhowtheothershadlaughedathim.

thedogbegantohowlbehindatthespotwherekarataevwassitting.“sillycreature！whatisshehowlingfor？”thoughtpierre

theprisoners,hiscompanionsmarchingathisside,likehim,refrainedfromlookingbacktotheplacewhencecamethesoundoftheshotandthedog’showl.therewasasetlookonalltheirfaces.