第388章

第388章theinstanthedidthisallrostov’seagernesssuddenlyvanished.theofficerfelltotheground,notsomuchfromtheswordcut,forithadonlyjustgrazedhisarmabovetheelbow,asfromfrightandtheshocktohishorse.asrostovpulledhishorsein,hiseyessoughthisfoetoseewhatsortofmanhehadvanquished.thefrenchofficerwashoppingalongontheground,withonefootcaughtinthestirrup.screwinguphiseyes,asthoughexpectinganotherbloweveryinstant,heglancedupatrostovfrowningwithanexpressionofterror.hispale,mud-stainedface—fairandyoung,withadimpleonthechinandclearblueeyes—wasthemostunwarlike,mostgood-naturedface,moreinplacebyaquietfiresidethanonthefieldofbattle.beforerostovcouldmakeuphismindwhattodowithhim,theofficershouted,“isurrender.”hetriedhurriedlyandfailedtoextricatehisfootfromthestirrup,andstillgazedwithhisfrightenedblueeyesatrostov.thehussars,gallopingup,freedhisfoot,andgothimintohissaddle.thehussarswerebusilyengagedonallsideswiththedragoons;onewaswounded,butthoughhisfacewasstreamingwithbloodhewouldnotletgoofhishorse;anotherputhisarmsroundanhussarashesatperchedupbehindonhishorse;athirdwasclamberingontohishorse,supportedbyanhussar.thefrenchinfantrywereinfront,firingastheyran.thehussarsgallopedhastilybackwiththeirprisoners.rostovgallopedbackwiththerest,consciousofsomedisagreeablesensation,akindofacheathisheart.aglimpseofsomethingvagueandconfused,ofwhichhecouldnotgetaclearview,seemedtohavecometohimwiththecaptureofthatfrenchofficerandtheblowhehaddealthim.

countosterman-tolstoymetthehussarsontheirreturn,summonedrostov,thankedhimandtoldhimhewouldreporthisgallantactiontothetsarandwouldrecommendhimforthecrossofst.george.whenrostovwascalleduptocountosterman,bethinkinghimselfthathehadreceivednocommandtocharge,hehadnodoubtthathiscommandingofficersentforhimtoreprimandhimforhisbreachofdiscipline.osterman’sflatteringwordsandpromiseofarewardshould,therefore,havebeenapleasantsurprisetorostov;buthestillsufferedfromthatunpleasantvaguefeelingofmoralnausea.“why,whatonearthisitthat’sworryingme？”hewondered,asherodeawayfromthegeneral.“ilyin？no,he’sallright.dididoanythingdisgraceful？no,that’snotiteither！”somethingelsefrettedhimlikearemorse.“yes,yes,thatofficerwiththedimple.andirememberclearlyhowmyhandpausedwhenihadliftedit.”

rostovsawtheprisonersbeingledaway,andgallopedafterthemtolookathisfrenchmanwiththedimpleinhischin.hewassittinginhisstrangeuniformononeofthesparehorses,lookinguneasilyabouthim.thesword-cutinhisarmcouldhardlybecalledawound.helookedatrostovwithaconstrainedsmile,andwavedhishandbywayofagreeting.rostovstillfeltthesamediscomfortandvagueremorse.

allthatdayandthenextrostov’sfriendsandcomradesnoticedthat,withoutbeingexactlydepressedorirritable,hewassilent,dreamy,andupied.hedidnotcaretodrink,triedtobealone,andseemedabsorbedinthought.rostovwasstillponderingonhisbrilliantexploit,which,tohisamazement,hadwonhimthest.george’scrossandmadehisreputationindeedforfearlessgallantry.therewassomethinghecouldnotfathominit.“sotheyareevenmorefrightenedthanweare,”hethought.“why,isthisallthat’smeantbyheroism？anddididoitforthesakeofmycountry？andwashetoblamewithhisdimpleandhisblueeyes？howfrightenedhewas！hethoughtiwasgoingtokillhim.whyshouldikillhim？myhandtrembled.andtheyhavegivenmethest.george’scross.ican’tmakeitout,ican’tmakeitout！”

butwhilenikolaywasworryingoverthesequestionsinhisheartandunabletofindanyclearsolutionofthedoubtsthattroubledhim,thewheeloffortunewasturninginhisfavour,assooftenhappensintheservice.hewasbroughtforwardaftertheaffairatostrovna,receivedthecommandofabattalionofhussars,andwhenanofficerofdauntlesscouragewaswantedhewaspickedout.