第211章

第211章“thatisthefirstact.inthenexttheinterestandtheabsurdityrise,astheyought.afterthemarshalhasdeparteditappearsthatwearewithinsightoftheenemyandshallhavetogivebattle.buxhevdeniscommandingofficerbyrightofseniority,butgeneralbennigsenisnotofthatopinion,theratherthatitisheandhiscorpswhofacetheenemy,andhewantstoseizetheopportunitytofightabattle‘onhisownhand,’asthegermanssay.hefightsit.itisthebattleofpultusk,whichiscountedagreatvictory,butwhichinmyopinionisnothingofthekind.wecivilians,youknow,haveaveryuglywayofdecidingwhetherbattlesarelostorwon.thesidethatretreatsafterthebattlehaslost,thatiswhatwesay,andaccordingtothatwelostthebattleofpultusk.inshort,weretreatafterthebattle,butwesendamessagetopetersburgwithnewsofavictory,andthegeneraldoesnotgiveupthecommandtobuxhevden,hopingtoreceivefrompetersburgthetitleofcommander-in-chiefinreturnforhisvictory.duringthisinterregnumwebeginanexcessivelyinterestingandoriginalschemeofman？uvres.theaimdoesnot,asitshould,consistinavoidingorattackingtheenemy,butsolelyinavoidinggeneralbuxhevden,whobyrightofseniorityshouldbeourcommandingofficer.wepursuethisobjectwithsomuchenergythatevenwhenwecrossariverwhichisnotfordableweburnthebridgesinordertoseparateourselvesfromourenemy,who,atthemoment,isnotbonapartebutbuxhevden.generalbuxhevdenwasnearlyattackedandtakenbyasuperiorforceoftheenemy,inconsequenceofoneofourfineman？uvreswhichsavedusfromhim.buxhevdenpursuesus;wescuttle.nosoonerdoeshecrosstooursideoftheriverthanwecrossbacktotheother.atlastourenemybuxhevdencatchesusandattacksus.thetwogeneralsquarrel.thereisevenachallengeonbuxhevden’spartandanepilepticfitonbennigsen’s.butatthecriticalmomentthemessengerwhocarriedthenewsofourpultuskvictorybringsusfrompetersburgourappointmentascommander-in-chief,andthefirstenemy,buxhevden,beingoverthrown,weareabletothinkofthesecond,bonaparte.butwhatshouldhappenatthatverymomentbuttherisingagainstusofathirdenemy,whichisthe‘holyarmament’fiercelycryingoutforbread,meat,biscuits,hay,andidon’tknowwhatelse！thestorehousesareempty,theroadsimpassable.the‘holyarmament’setsitselftopillage,andthatinawayofwhichthelastcampaigncangiveyounonotion.halftheregimentshaveturnedthemselvesintofreecompanies,andareoverrunningthecountrywithfireandsword.theinhabitantsaretotallyruined,thehospitalsareoverflowingwithsick,andfamineiseverywhere.twiceovertheheadquartershavebeenattackedbybandsofmarauders,andthecommander-in-chiefhimselfhashadtoaskforabattaliontodrivethemoff.inoneoftheseattacksmyemptytrunkandmydressing-gownwerecarriedoff.theemperorproposestogiveauthoritytoallthecommandersofdivisionstoshootmarauders,butigreatlyfearthiswillobligeonehalfofthearmytoshoottheother.”

princeandreyatfirstreadonlywithhiseyes,butunconsciouslywhatheread（thoughheknewhowmuchfaithtoputinbilibin）begantointeresthimmoreandmore.whenhereachedthispassage,hecrumpleduptheletterandthrewitaway.itwasnotwhathereadthatangeredhim;hewasangrythatthefar-awaylifeoutthere—inwhichhehadnopart—couldtroublehim.heclosedhiseyes,rubbedhisforeheadwithhishand,asthoughtodriveoutallinterestinwhathehadbeenreading,andlistenedtowhatwaspassinginthenursery.suddenlyhefanciedastrangesoundthroughthedoor.apanicseizedhim;hewasafraidsomethingmighthavehappenedtothebabywhilehewasreadingtheletter.hewentontiptoetothedoorofthenurseryandopenedit.

attheinstantthathewentin,hesawthatthenursewashidingsomethingfromhimwithascaredface,andprincessmaryawasnolongerbesidethecrib.

“mydear,”heheardbehindhimprincessmaryawhisper—inatoneofdespairitseemedtohim.assooftenhappensafterprolongedsleeplessnessandanxiety,hewasseizedbyagroundlesspanic;theideacameintohismindthatthebabywasdead.allhesawandheardseemedaconfirmationofhisterror.

“allisover,”hethought,andacoldsweatcameoutonhisforehead.hewenttothecrib,besidehimself,believingthathewouldfinditempty,thatthenursehadbeenhidingthedeadbaby.heopenedthecurtains,andforalongwhilehishurrying,frightenedeyescouldnotfindthebaby.atlasthesawhim.thered-cheekedchildlaystretchedacrossthecrib,withitsheadlowerthanthepillow;anditwasmakingasmackingsoundwithitslipsinitssleepandbreathingevenly.

princeandreyrejoicedatseeingthechild,asthoughhehadalreadylosthim.hebentdownandtriedwithhislipswhetherthebabywasfeverish,ashissisterhadshownhim.thesoftforeheadwasmoist;hetouchedtheheadwithhishand—eventhehairwaswet：thechildwasinsuchathoroughperspiration.hewasnotdead;onthecontrary,itwasevidentthatthecrisiswasoverandhewasbetter.princeandreylongedtosnatchup,tosqueeze,topresstohisheartthatlittlehelplesscreature;hedidnotdaretodoso.hestoodoverhim,gazingathisheadandhislittlearmsandlegsthatshowedbeneaththequilt.heheardarustlebesidehim,andashadowseemedtocomeunderthecanopyofthecrib.hedidnotlookround,andstillgazingatthebaby’sface,listenedtohisregularbreathing.thedarkshadowwasprincessmarya,whowithnoiselessstepshadapproachedthecrib,liftedthecanopy,andletitfallagainbehindher.princeandreyknewitwasshewithoutlookinground,andheldouthishandtoher.shesqueezedhishand.

“heisinaperspiration,”saidprinceandrey.

“iwascomingtotellyouso.”

thebabyfaintlystirredinitssleep,smiledandrubbeditsforeheadagainstthepillow.

princeandreylookedathissister.intheevenhalflightunderthehangingofthecrib,princessmarya’sluminouseyesshonemorethanusualwiththehappytearsthatstoodinthem.shebentforwardtoherbrotherandkissedhim,herheadcatchinginthecanopyofthecrib.theyshooktheirfingersatoneanother,andstillstoodinthetwilightofthecanopy,asthoughunwillingtoleavethatseclusionwheretheythreewerealone,shutofffromalltheworld.princeandrey,rufflinghishairagainstthemuslinhangings,wasthefirsttomoveaway.“yes,thatistheonethingleftmenow,”hesaidwithasigh.