Book Ten: 1812 - Chapter XXII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Staggering amid the crush, Pierre looked about him.

　　"Count Peter Kirilovich! How did you get here?" said a voice.

　　Pierre looked round. Boris Drubetskoy, brushing his knees with hishand (he had probably soiled them when he, too, had knelt before theicon), came up to him smiling. Boris was elegantly dressed, with aslightly martial touch appropriate to a campaign. He wore a longcoat and like Kutuzov had a whip slung across his shoulder.

　　Meanwhile Kutuzov had reached the village and seated himself inthe shade of the nearest house, on a bench which one Cossack had runto fetch and another had hastily covered with a rug. An immense andbrilliant suite surrounded him.

　　The icon was carried further, accompanied by the throng. Pierrestopped some thirty paces from Kutuzov, talking to Boris.

　　He explained his wish to be present at the battle and to see theposition.

　　"This is what you must do," said Boris. "I will do the honors of thecamp to you. You will see everything best from where Count Bennigsenwill be. I am in attendance on him, you know; I'll mention it tohim. But if you want to ride round the position, come along with us.We are just going to the left flank. Then when we get back, do spendthe night with me and we'll arrange a game of cards. Of course youknow Dmitri Sergeevich? Those are his quarters," and he pointed to thethird house in the village of Gorki.

　　"But I should like to see the right flank. They say it's verystrong," said Pierre. "I should like to start from the Moskva Riverand ride round the whole position."

　　"Well, you can do that later, but the chief thing is the leftflank."

　　"Yes, yes. But where is Prince Bolkonski's regiment? Can you pointit out to me?"

　　"Prince Andrew's? We shall pass it and I'll take you to him."

　　What about the left flank?" asked Pierre

　　"To tell you the truth, between ourselves, God only knows what stateour left flank is in," said Boris confidentially lowering his voice."It is not at all what Count Bennigsen intended. He meant to fortifythat knoll quite differently, but..." Boris shrugged his shoulders,"his Serene Highness would not have it, or someone persuaded him.You see..." but Boris did not finish, for at that moment Kaysarov,Kutuzov's adjutant, came up to Pierre. "Ah, Kaysarov!" said Boris,addressing him with an unembarrassed smile, "I was just trying toexplain our position to the count. It is amazing how his SereneHighness could so the intentions of the French!"

　　"You mean the left flank?" asked Kaysarov.

　　"Yes, exactly; the left flank is now extremely strong."

　　Though Kutuzov had dismissed all unnecessary men from the staff,Boris had contrived to remain at headquarters after the changes. Hehad established himself with Count Bennigsen, who, like all on whomBoris had been in attendance, considered young Prince Drubetskoy aninvaluable man.

　　In the higher command there were two sharply defined parties:Kutuzov's party and that of Bennigsen, the chief of staff. Borisbelonged to the latter and no one else, while showing servilerespect to Kutuzov, could so create an impression that the oldfellow was not much good and that Bennigsen managed everything. Nowthe decisive moment of battle had come when Kutuzov would be destroyedand the power pass to Bennigsen, or even if Kutuzov won the battleit would be felt that everything was done by Bennigsen. In any casemany great rewards would have to be given for tomorrow's action, andnew men would come to the front. So Boris was full of nervous vivacityall day.

　　After Kaysarov, others whom Pierre knew came up to him, and he hadnot time to reply to all the questions about Moscow that were showeredupon him, or to listen to all that was told him. The faces allexpressed animation and apprehension, but it seemed to Pierre that thecause of the excitement shown in some of these faces lay chiefly inquestions of personal success; his mind, however, was occupied bythe different expression he saw on other faces- an expression thatspoke not of personal matters but of the universal questions of lifeand death. Kutuzov noticed Pierre's figure and the group gatheredround him.

　　"Call him to me," said Kutuzov.

　　An adjutant told Pierre of his Serene Highness' wish, and Pierrewent toward Kutuzov's bench. But a militiaman got there before him. Itwas Dolokhov.

　　"How did that fellow get here?" asked Pierre.

　　"He's a creature that wriggles in anywhere!" was the answer. "He hasbeen degraded, you know. Now he wants to bob up again. He's beenproposing some scheme or other and has crawled into the enemy's picketline at night.... He's a brave fellow."

　　Pierre took off his hat and bowed respectfully to Kutuzov.

　　"I concluded that if I reported to your Serene Highness you mightsend me away or say that you knew what I was reporting, but then Ishouldn't lose anything..." Dolokhov was saying.

　　"Yes, yes."

　　"But if I were right, I should be rendering a service to myFatherland for which I am ready to die."

　　"Yes, yes."

　　"And should your Serene Highness require a man who will not sparehis skin, please think of me.... Perhaps I may prove useful to yourSerene Highness."

　　"Yes... Yes..." Kutuzov repeated, his laughing eye narrowing moreand more as he looked at Pierre.

　　Just then Boris, with his courtierlike adroitness, stepped up toPierre's side near Kutuzov and in a most natural manner, withoutraising his voice, said to Pierre, as though continuing an interruptedconversation:

　　"The militia have put on clean white shirts to be ready to die. Whatheroism, Count!"

　　Boris evidently said this to Pierre in order to be overheard byhis Serene Highness. He knew Kutuzov's attention would be caught bythose words, and so it was.

　　"What are you saying about the militia?" he asked Boris.

　　"Preparing for tomorrow, your Serene Highness- for death- theyhave put on clean shirts."

　　"Ah... a wonderful, a matchless people!" said Kutuzov; and he closedhis eyes and swayed his head. "A matchless people!" he repeated with asigh.

　　"So you want to smell gunpowder?" he said to Pierre. "Yes, it's apleasant smell. I have the honor to be one of your wife's adorers.Is she well? My quarters are at your service."

　　And as often happens with old people, Kutuzov began looking aboutabsent-mindedly as if forgetting all he wanted to say or do.

　　Then, evidently remembering what he wanted, he beckoned to AndrewKaysarov, his adjutant's brother.

　　"Those verses... those verses of Marin's... how do they go, eh?Those he wrote about Gerakov: 'Lectures for the corps inditing'...Recite them, recite them!" said he, evidently preparing to laugh.

　　Kaysarov recited.... Kutuzov smilingly nodded his head to the rhythmof the verses.

　　When Pierre had left Kutuzov, Dolokhov came up to him and took hishand.

　　"I am very glad to meet you here, Count," he said aloud,regardless of the presence of strangers and in a particularly resoluteand solemn tone. "On the eve of a day when God alone knows who of usis fated to survive, I am glad of this opportunity to tell you thatI regret the misunderstandings that occurred between us and shouldwish you not to have any ill feeling for me. I beg you to forgive me."

　　Pierre looked at Dolokhov with a smile, not knowing what to say tohim. With tears in his eyes Dolokhov embraced Pierre and kissed him.

　　Boris said a few words to his general, and Count Bennigsen turned toPierre and proposed that he should ride with him along the line.

　　"It will interest you," said he.

　　"Yes, very much," replied Pierre.

　　Half an hour later Kutuzov left for Tatarinova, and Bennigsen andhis suite, with Pierre among them, set out on their ride along theline.