第552章

第552章“oooh！”wailedtheservant-girl,pointingtothelodge.“that’sit,thatsamewasourlodging.sure,you’reburnttodeath,ourtreasure,katitchka,mypreciouslittlemissy,ooh！”wailedaniska,atthesightofthefirefeelingthenecessityofgivingexpressiontoherfeelingstoo.

pierredarteduptothelodge,buttheheatwassogreatthathecouldnothelpdescribingacurveroundit,andfoundhimselfclosetoabighouse,whichwasasyetonlyonfireononeside,attheroof.agroupoffrenchsoldierswereswarmingroundit.pierrecouldnotatfirstmakeoutwhatthesefrenchmenwereabout,ingsomethingoutofthehouse.butseeingafrenchsoldierinfrontofhimbeatingapeasantwithabluntcutlass,andtakingfromhimafur-linedcoat,pierrebecamevaguelyawarethatpillagingwasgoingonhere—buthehadnotimetodwellontheidea.

thesoundoftherumbleandcrashoffallingwallsandceilings;theroarandhissoftheflames,andtheexcitedshoutsofthecrowd;thesightofthehoveringcloudsofsmoke—herefoldingoverintoblackmasses,theredrawingoutandlightedupbygleamingsparks;andtheflames—herelikeathickredsheaf,andtherecreepinglikegoldenfish-scalesoverthewalls;thesenseoftheheatandsmokeandrapidityofmovement,allproducedonpierretheusualstimulatingeffectofaconflagration.thateffectwasparticularlystrongonpierre,becauseallatonce,atthesightofthefire,hefelthimselfsetfreefromtheideasweighinguponhim.hefeltyoung,gay,ready,andresolute.heranroundthelodgeonthesideofthehouse,andwasabouttorunintothatpartwhichwasstillstanding,whenheheardseveralvoicesshoutingimmediatelyabovehishead,followedbythecrashandbangofsomethingheavyfallingcloseby.

pierrelookedround,andsawatthewindowsofthehousesomefrenchsoldiers,whohadjustdroppedoutadrawerofachest,filledwithsomemetallicobjects.somemorefrenchsoldiersstandingbelowwentuptothedrawer.

“well,whatdoesthatfellowwant？”oneofthefrenchsoldiersshouted,referringtopierre.

“achildinthehouse.haven’tyouseenachild？”saidpierre.

“what’sthefellowsinging？getalong,do！”shoutedvoices;andoneofthesoldiers,evidentlyafraidpierremighttakeitintohisheadtosnatchthesilverandbronzesfromthem,pouncedonhiminamenacingfashion.

“achild？”shoutedafrenchmanfromabove.“ididhearsomethingcryinginthegarden.perhapsit’sthefellow’sbrat.mustbehumaneyouknow.”

“whereisit？”askedpierre.

“thisway！”thefrenchsoldiershoutedtohimfromthewindowpointingtothegardenbehindthehouse.“wait,i’llcomedown.”

andinaminutethefrenchman,ablack-eyedfellow,withapatchonhischeek,inhisshirt-sleeves,didinfactjumpoutofawindowonthegroundfloor,andslappingpierreontheshoulder,heranwithhimtothegarden.“makehaste,youfellows,”heshoutedtohiscomrades,“it’sbeginningtogethot.”runningbehindthehousetoasandedpath,thefrenchmanpulledpierrebythearm,andpointedouttohimacircularspace.underagardenseatlayagirlofthreeyearsold,inapinkfrock.

“here’syourbrat.ah,alittlegirl.somuchthebetter,”saidthefrenchman.“good-bye.mustbehumane,weareallmortal,youknow”;andthefrenchman,withthepatchonhischeek,ranbacktohiscomrades.

pierre,breathlesswithjoy,ranuptothechild,andwouldhavetakenherinhisarms.butseeingastranger,thelittlegirl—ascrofulous-looking,unattractivechildverylikehermother—screamedandranaway.pierrecaughther,however,andliftedherupinhisarms;shesquealedindesperatefury,andtriedtotearherselfoutofpierre’sarmswithherlittlehands,andtobitehimwithherdirty,dribblingmouth.pierrehadasenseofhorroranddisgust,suchashehadfeltatcontactwithsomelittlebeast.buthemadeanefforttoovercomeit,andnottodropthechild,andranwithitbacktothebighouse.bynow,however,itwasimpossibletogetbackbythesameway;theservant-girl,aniska,wasnowheretobeseen,andwithafeelingofpityandloathing,pierreheldclosetohim,astenderlyashecould,thepiteouslyhowling,andsoppingwetbaby,andranacrossthegardentoseeksomeotherwayout.