第146章

第146章rostovhadbeensentthatnightwithaplatoononpicketdutytothelineofoutpostsintheforemostpartofbagration’sdetachment.hishussarswerescatteredincouplesabouttheoutposts；hehimselfrodeaboutthelineoftheoutpoststryingtoleagainstthesleepinesswhichkeptovercominghim.behindhimcouldbeseentheimmenseexpanseofthedimlyburningfiresofourarmy；beforehimwasthemistydarkness.howeverintentlyrostovgazedintothismistydistance，hecouldseenothing；atonemomentthereseemedsomethinggreyish，atthenextsomethingblackish，thensomethingliketheglimmerofafireovertherewheretheenemymustbe，thenhefanciedtheglimmerhadbeenonlyinhisowneyes.hiseyeskeptclosing，andtherefloatedbeforehismindtheimageoftheemperor，thenofdenisov，andmoscowmemories，andagainheopenedhiseyesandsawclosebeforehimtheheadandearsofthehorsehewasriding，andsometimesblackfiguresofhussars，whenherodewithinsixpacesofthem，butinthedistancestillthesamemistydarkness.“why？itmaywellhappen，”musedrostov，“thattheemperorwillmeetmeandgivemesomecommission，ashemighttoanyofficer；he’llsay，“goandfindoutwhat’sthere.”therearealotofstoriesofhowquitebychancehehasmadetheacquaintanceofofficersandgiventhemsomeplaceclosetohimtoo.oh，ifheweretogivemeaplaceinattendanceonhim！oh，whatcareiwouldtakeofhim，howiwouldtellhimthewholetruth，howiwouldunmaskallwhodeceivehim！”andtopicturehisloveanddevotiontothetsarmorevividly，rostovimaginedsomeenemyortreacherousgerman，whomhewouldwithgreatzestnotsimplykill，butslapinthefacebeforethetsar’seyes.allatonceashoutinthedistancerousedrostov.hestartedandopenedhiseyes.“whereami？yes，inthepicketline；thepassandwatchword—shaft，olmutz.howannoyingthatoursquadronwillbeinreserve…”hethought.“i’llasktogotothefront.itmaybemyonlychanceofseeingtheemperor.andnowit’snotlongbeforei’moffduty.i’llrideroundoncemore，andasicomeback，i’llgotothegeneralandaskhim.”hesatupstraightinthesaddleandsetofftorideoncemoreroundhishussars.itseemedtohimthatitwaslighter.ontheleftsidehecouldseeaslopingdescentthatlookedlightedupandablackknollfacingitthatseemedsteepasawall.onthisknollwasawhitepatchwhichrostovcouldnotunderstand；wasitaclearinginthewood，lightedupbythemoon，ortheremainsofsnow，orwhitehorses？itseemedtohimindeedthatsomethingwasmovingoverthatwhitespot.“itmustbesnow—thatspot：aspot—unetache，”rostovmuseddreamily.“butthat’snotatache…na…tasha，mysister，herblackeyes.na…tasha（won’tshebesurprisedwhenitellherhowi’veseentheemperor！）natasha…tasha…sabretache.…”“keeptotheright，yourhonour，therearebusheshere，”saidthevoiceofanhussar，bywhomrostovwasridingashefellasleep.rostovliftedhishead，whichhaddroppedontohishorse’smane，andpulledupbesidethehussar.hecouldnotshakeofftheyouthful，childishdrowsinessthatovercamehim.“but，isay，whatwasithinking？imustn’tforget.howiamgoingtospeaktotheemperor？no，notthat—that’sto-morrow.yes，yes！natasha，attacks，tacksus，—whom？thehussars.ah，thehussarswiththeirmoustaches…alongthetverskyboulevardrodethathussarwiththemoustaches，iwasthinkingofhimtoojustoppositeguryev’shouse.…oldguryev.…ah，afinefellow，denisov！butthat’sallnonsense.thegreatthingisthattheemperor’sherenow.howhelookedatmeandlongedtosaysomething，buthedidnotdare.…no，itwasididnotdare.butthat’snonsense，andthegreatthingisnottoforgetsomethingimportantiwasthinkingof，yes.natasha，attacksus，yes，yes，yes.that’sright.”andagainhedroppedwithhisheadonhishorse’sneck.allatonceitseemedtohimthathewasbeingfiredat.“what？what？…cutthemdown！what？”rostovwassaying，ashewakenedup.attheinstantthatheopenedhiseyes，rostovheardinfront，overwheretheenemywere，theprolongedshoutingofthousandsofvoices.hishorseandthehorseofthehussarnearhimprickeduptheirearsattheseshouts.overwheretheshoutscamefrom，alightwaslightedandputout，thenanother，andallalongthelineofthefrenchtroopsonthehillsidefireswerelightedandtheshoutsgrewlouderandlouder.rostovheardthesoundoffrenchwordsthoughhecouldnotdistinguishthem.hecouldonlyhear：aaaa！andrrrr！

“whatisit？whatdoyouthink？”rostovsaidtothehussarnearhim.“that’sintheenemy’scampsurely？”

thehussarmadenoreply.

“why，don’tyouhearit？”rostovaskedagain，afterwaitingsometimeforareply.

“whocantell，yourhonour？”thehussaransweredreluctantly.

“fromthedirectionitmustbetheenemy，”rostovsaidagain.

“maybe’tis，andmaybenot，”saidthehussar；“it’sdark.now！steady，”heshoutedtohishorse，whofidgeted.rostov’shorsetoowasrestless，andpawedthefrozengroundasitlistenedtotheshoutsandlookedatthelights.theshoutinggrewlouderandpassedintoamingledroarthatcouldonlybeproducedbyanarmyofseveralthousands.thelightsstretchedfurtherandfurtherprobablyalongthelineofthefrenchcamp.rostovwasnotsleepynow.thegay，triumphantshoutsintheenemy’sarmyhadarousingeffectonhim.“vivel’empereur！l’empereur！”rostovcouldheardistinctlynow.

“notfaroff，beyondthestreamitmustbe，”hesaidtothehussarnearhim.

thehussarmerelysighedwithoutreplying，andclearedhisthroatangrily.theyheardthethudofahorsetrottingalongthelineofhussars，andtheresuddenlysprangupoutofthenightmist，lookinghugeasanelephant，thefigureofasergeantofhussars.