Book Three: 1805 - Chapter XIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　That same night, Rostov was with a platoon on skirmishing duty infront of Bagration's detachment. His hussars were placed along theline in couples and he himself rode along the line trying to masterthe sleepiness that kept coming over him. An enormous space, withour army's campfires dimly glowing in the fog, could be seen behindhim; in front of him was misty darkness. Rostov could see nothing,peer as he would into that foggy distance: now something gleamed gray,now there was something black, now little lights seemed to glimmerwhere the enemy ought to be, now he fancied it was only something inhis own eyes. His eyes kept closing, and in his fancy appeared- nowthe Emperor, now Denisov, and now Moscow memories- and he againhurriedly opened his eyes and saw close before him the head and earsof the horse he was riding, and sometimes, when he came within sixpaces of them, the black figures of hussars, but in the distance wasstill the same misty darkness. "Why not?... It might easily happen,"thought Rostov, "that the Emperor will meet me and give me an order ashe would to any other officer; he'll say: 'Go and find out what'sthere.' There are many stories of his getting to know an officer injust such a chance way and attaching him to himself! What if he gaveme a place near him? Oh, how I would guard him, how I would tell himthe truth, how I would unmask his deceivers!" And in order torealize vividly his love devotion to the sovereign, Rostov pictured tohimself an enemy or a deceitful German, whom he would not only killwith pleasure but whom he would slap in the face before the Emperor.Suddenly a distant shout aroused him. He started and opened his eyes.

　　"Where am I? Oh yes, in the skirmishing line... pass andwatchword- shaft, Olmutz. What a nuisance that our squadron will be inreserve tomorrow," he thought. "I'll ask leave to go to the front,this may be my only chance of seeing the Emperor. It won't be long nowbefore I am off duty. I'll take another turn and when I get backI'll go to the general and ask him." He readjusted himself in thesaddle and touched up his horse to ride once more round his hussars.It seemed to him that it was getting lighter. To the left he saw asloping descent lit up, and facing it a black knoll that seemed assteep as a wall. On this knoll there was a white patch that Rostovcould not at all make out: was it a glade in the wood lit up by themoon, or some unmelted snow, or some white houses? He even thoughtsomething moved on that white spot. "I expect it's snow... thatspot... a spot- une tache," he thought. "There now... it's not atache... Natasha... sister, black eyes... Na... tasha... (Won't she besurprised when I tell her how I've seen the Emperor?) Natasha...take my sabretache..."- "Keep to the right, your honor, there arebushes here," came the voice of an hussar, past whom Rostov was ridingin the act of falling asleep. Rostov lifted his head that had sunkalmost to his horse's mane and pulled up beside the hussar. He wassuccumbing to irresistible, youthful, childish drowsiness. "But whatwas I thinking? I mustn't forget. How shall I speak to the Emperor?No, that's not it- that's tomorrow. Oh yes! Natasha... sabretache...saber them...Whom? The hussars... Ah, the hussars with mustaches.Along the Tverskaya Street rode the hussar with mustaches... I thoughtabout him too, just opposite Guryev's house... Old Guryev.... Oh,but Denisov's a fine fellow. But that's all nonsense. The chiefthing is that the Emperor is here. How he looked at me and wished tosay something, but dared not.... No, it was I who dared not. Butthat's nonsense, the chief thing is not to forget the importantthing I was thinking of. Yes, Na-tasha, sabretache, oh, yes, yes!That's right!" And his head once more sank to his horse's neck. All atonce it seemed to him that he was being fired at. "What? What?What?... Cut them down! What?..." said Rostov, waking up. At themoment he opened his eyes his eyes he heard in front of him, where theenemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices. His horse andthe horse of the hussar near him pricked their ears at these shouts.Over there, where the shouting came from, a fire flared up and wentout again, then another, and all along the French line on the hillfires flared up and the shouting grew louder and louder. Rostovcould hear the sound of French words but could not distinguish them.The din of many voices was too great; all he could hear was: "ahahah!"and "rrrr!"

　　"What's that? What do you make of it?" said Rostov to the hussarbeside him. "That must be the enemy's camp!"

　　The hussar did not reply.

　　"Why, don't you hear it?" Rostov asked again, after waiting for areply.

　　"Who can tell, your honor?" replied the hussar reluctantly.

　　"From the direction, it must be the enemy," repeated Rostov.

　　"It may be he or it may be nothing," muttered the hussar. "It'sdark... Steady!" he cried to his fidgeting horse.

　　Rostov's horse was also getting restive: it pawed the frozen ground,pricking its ears at the noise and looking at the lights. The shoutinggrew still louder and merged into a general roar that only an armyof several thousand men could produce. The lights spread farther andfarther, probably along the line of the French camp. Rostov nolonger wanted to sleep. The gay triumphant shouting of the enemyarmy had a stimulating effect on him. "Vive l'Empereur! L'Empereur!"he now heard distinctly.

　　"They can't be far off, probably just beyond the stream," he said tothe hussar beside him.

　　The hussar only sighed without replying and coughed angrily. Thesound of horse's hoofs approaching at a trot along the line of hussarswas heard, and out of the foggy darkness the figure of a sergeant ofhussars suddenly appeared, looming huge as an elephant.

　　"Your honor, the generals!" said the sergeant, riding up to Rostov.

　　Rostov, still looking round toward the fires and the shouts, rodewith the sergeant to meet some mounted men who were riding along theline. One was on a white horse. Prince Bagration and Prince Dolgorukovwith their adjutants had come to witness the curious phenomenon of thelights and shouts in the enemy's camp. Rostov rode up to Bagration,reported to him, and then joined the adjutants listening to what thegenerals were saying.

　　"Believe me," said Prince Dolgorukov, addressing Bagration, "it isnothing but a trick! He has retreated and ordered the rearguard tokindle fires and make a noise to deceive us."

　　"Hardly," said Bagration. "I saw them this evening on that knoll; ifthey had retreated they would have withdrawn from that too....Officer!" said Bagration to Rostov, "are the enemy's skirmishers stillthere?"

　　"They were there this evening, but now I don't know, yourexcellency. Shall I go with some of my hussars to see?" repliedRostov.

　　Bagration stopped and, before replying, tried to see Rostov's facein the mist.

　　"Well, go and see," he said, after a pause.

　　"Yes, sir."

　　Rostov spurred his horse, called to Sergeant Fedchenko and two otherhussars, told them to follow him, and trotted downhill in thedirection from which the shouting came. He felt both frightened andpleased to be riding alone with three hussars into that mysterious anddangerous misty distance where no one had been before him. Bagrationcalled to him from the hill not to go beyond the stream, but Rostovpretended not to hear him and did not stop but rode on and on,continually mistaking bushes for trees and gullies for men andcontinually discovering his mistakes. Having descended the hill at atrot, he no longer saw either our own or the enemy's fires, butheard the shouting of the French more loudly and distinctly. In thevalley he saw before him something like a river, but when he reachedit he found it was a road. Having come out onto the road he reinedin his horse, hesitating whether to ride along it or cross it and rideover the black field up the hillside. To keep to the road whichgleamed white in the mist would have been safer because it would beeasier to see people coming along it. "Follow me!" said he, crossedthe road, and began riding up the hill at a gallop toward the pointwhere the French pickets had been standing that evening.

　　"Your honor, there he is!" cried one of the hussars behind him.And before Rostov had time to make out what the black thing was thathad suddenly appeared in the fog, there was a flash, followed by areport, and a bullet whizzing high up in the mist with a plaintivesound passed out of hearing. Another musket missed fire but flashed inthe pan. Rostov turned his horse and galloped back. Four morereports followed at intervals, and the bullets passed somewhere in thefog singing in different tones. Rostov reined in his horse, whosespirits had risen, like his own, at the firing, and went back at afootpace. "Well, some more! Some more!" a merry voice was saying inhis soul. But no more shots came.

　　Only when approaching Bagration did Rostov let his horse gallopagain, and with his hand at the salute rode up to the general.

　　Dolgorukov was still insisting that the French had retreated and hadonly lit fires to deceive us.

　　"What does that prove?" he was saying as Rostov rode up. "They mightretreat and leave the pickets."

　　"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," saidBagration. "Wait till tomorrow morning, we'll find out everythingtomorrow."

　　"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it wasin the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his hand atthe salute and unable to repress the smile of delight induced by hisride and especially by the sound of the bullets.

　　"Very good, very good," said Bagration. "Thank you, officer."

　　"Your excellency," said Rostov, "may I ask a favor?"

　　"What is it?"

　　"Tomorrow our squadron is to be in reserve. May I ask to be attachedto the first squadron?"

　　"What's your name?"

　　"Count Rostov."

　　"Oh, very well, you may stay in attendance on me."

　　"Count Ilya Rostov's son?" asked Dolgorukov.

　　But Rostov did not reply.

　　"Then I may reckon on it, your excellency?"

　　"I will give the order."

　　"Tomorrow very likely I may be sent with some message to theEmperor," thought Rostov.

　　"Thank God!"

　　The fires and shouting in the enemy's army were occasioned by thefact that while Napoleon's proclamation was being read to the troopsthe Emperor himself rode round his bivouacs. The soldiers, on seeinghim, lit wisps of straw and ran after him, shouting, "Vivel'Empereur!" Napoleon's proclamation was as follows:

　　Soldiers! The Russian army is advancing against you to avenge theAustrian army of Ulm. They are the same battalions you broke atHollabrunn and have pursued ever since to this place. The positionwe occupy is a strong one, and while they are marching to go roundme on the right they will expose a flank to me. Soldiers! I willmyself direct your battalions. I will keep out of fire if you withyour habitual valor carry disorder and confusion into the enemy'sranks, but should victory be in doubt, even for a moment, you will seeyour Emperor exposing himself to the first blows of the enemy, forthere must be no doubt of victory, especially on this day when what isat stake is the honor of the French infantry, so necessary to thehonor of our nation.

　　Do not break your ranks on the plea of removing the wounded! Letevery man be fully imbued with the thought that we must defeat thesehirelings of England, inspired by such hatred of our nation! Thisvictory will conclude our campaign and we can return to winterquarters, where fresh French troops who are being raised in Francewill join us, and the peace I shall conclude will be worthy of mypeople, of you, and of myself.

　　Napoleon