第547章
第547章sevendayshadpassedsinceprinceandreyhadfoundhimselfintheambulancestationonthefieldofborodino.allthattimehehadbeeninastateofalmostcontinualunconsciousness.thefeverandinflammationofthebowels,whichhadbeeninjured,were,intheopinionofthedoctoraccompanyingthewounded,certaintocarryhimoff.butontheseventhdayheatewithrelishapieceofbreadwithsometea,andthedoctorobservedthatthefeverwasgoingdown.princeandreyhadregainedconsciousnessinthemorning.thefirstnightafterleavingmoscowhadbeenfairlywarm,andprinceandreyhadspentthenightinhiscarriage.butatmytishtchythewoundedmanhadhimselfaskedtobemovedandgiventea.thepaincausedbymovinghimintothehuthadmadeprinceandreygroanaloudandloseconsciousnessagain.whenhehadbeenlaidonhiscampbedstead,helayalongwhilewithclosedeyeswithoutmoving.thenheopenedhiseyesandwhisperedsoftly,“howaboutthetea?”thedoctorwasstruckbythisinstanceofconsciousnessofthelittledetailsofdailylife.hefelthispulse,andtohissurpriseanddissatisfactionfoundthatthepulsewasstronger.thedoctor’sdissatisfactionwasduetothefactthathefeltcertainfromhisexperiencethatprinceandreycouldnotlive,andthatifhedidnotdienow,hewouldonlydiealittlelaterwithevengreatersuffering.withprinceandreywasthered-nosedmajorofhisregiment,timohin,whohadjoinedhiminmoscowwithawoundinhislegreceivedatthesamebattleofborodino.thedoctor,theprince’svalet,andcoachman,andtwoorderlieswereinchargeofthem.
teawasgiventoprinceandrey.hedrankiteagerly,lookingwithfeverisheyesatthedoorinfrontofhim,asthoughtryingtounderstandandrecallsomething.
“nomore.istimohinhere?”heasked.
timohinedgedalongthebenchtowardshim.
“iamhere,yourexcellency.”
“howisyourwound?”
“mine?allright.buthowareyou?”
princeandreyponderedagain,asthoughhewererecollectingsomething.
“couldnotonegetabookhere?”hesaid.
“whatbook?”
“thegospel!ihaven’tone.”
thedoctorpromisedtogetit,andbeganquestioningtheprinceabouthissymptoms.princeandreyansweredallthedoctor’squestionsrationally,thoughreluctantly,andthensaidthathewantedasupportputunderhim,asitwasuncomfortableandverypainfulforhimashewas.thedoctorandthevalettookoffthemilitarycloak,withwhichhewascovered,andpuckeringuptheirfacesatthesicklysmellofputrefyingfleshthatcamefromthewound,begantolookintotheterribleplace.thedoctorwasverymuchtroubledaboutsomething;hemadesomechanges,turningthewoundedmanoversothathegroanedagain,andagainlostconsciousnessfromthepainwhentheyturnedhimover.hebegantobedelirious,andkeptaskingforthebooktobebroughtandtobeputunderhim.“whattroublewoulditbetoyou?”hekeptsaying.“ihaven’tit,getitme,please,—putitundermejustforaminute,”hesaidinapiteousvoice.
thedoctorwentoutsidetowashhishands.
“ah,youhavenoconscience,youfellowsreally,”thedoctorwassayingtothevalet,whowaspouringwateroverhishands.“foroneminuteididn’tlookafteryou.why,it’ssuchsufferingthatiwonderhowhebearsit.”
“ithoughtwedidputitunderhimright,bythelordjesuschrist,”saidthevalet.
princeandreyhadforthefirsttimegraspedwherehewasandwhatwashappeningtohim,andhadrecollectedthathehadbeenwoundedandhowatthemomentwhenthecarriagehadstoppedatmytishtchy,andhehadaskedtobetakenintothehut.losingconsciousnessagainfromthepain,hecamefullytohimselfoncemoreinthehutwhilehewasdrinkingtea.andthereuponagain,goingoverinhismemoryallthathadhappenedtohim,themostvividpictureinhismindwasofthatmomentattheambulancestationwhenatthesightofthesufferingsofamanhehadnotliked,thosenewthoughtshadcometohimwithsuchpromiseofhappiness.andthosethoughts—thoughvaguenowandshapeless—tookpossessionofhissoulagain.herememberedthathehadnowsomenewhappiness,andthatthathappinesshadsomethingtodowiththegospel.thatwaswhyheaskedforthegospel.butthepositionhehadbeenlaidin,withoutsupportunderhiswound,andthenewchangeofposition,puthisthoughtstoconfusionagain;anditwasonlyinthecompletestillnessofthenightthathecametohimselfagainforthethirdtime.everyonewasasleeparoundhim.acricketwaschirpingacrossthepassage;someonewasshoutingandsinginginthestreet;cockroacheswererustlingoverthetable,theholyimagesandthewalls;abigflyfloppedonhispillowandaboutthetallowcandlethatstoodwithagreat,smoulderingwickbesidehim.