战争与和平(上)-第38部分

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“Who　will　go　along　the　middle　of　the　bridge？　On　the　right　side？　Ensign；　back！”　he　shouted　angrily；　and　he　turned　to　Denisov；　who　with　swaggering　bravado　rode　on　horseback　on　to　the　planks　of　the　bridge。
“Why　run　risks；　captain？　You　should　dismount；”　said　the　colonel。
“Eh！　it’ll　strike　the　guilty　one；”　said　Vaska　Denisov；　turning　in　his　saddle。
Meanwhile　Nesvitsky；　Zherkov；　and　the　officer　of　the　suite　were　standing　together　out　of　range　of　the　enemy；　watching　the　little　group　of　men　in　yellow　shakoes；　dark…green　jackets；　embroidered　with　frogs；　and　blue　riding…breeches；　swarming　about　the　bridge；　and　on　the　other　side　of　the　river　the　blue　tunics　and　the　groups　with　horses；　that　might　so　easily　be　taken　for　guns；　approaching　in　the　distance。
“Will　they　burn　the　bridge　or　not？　Who’ll　get　there　first？　Will　they　run　there　and　burn　it；　or　the　French　train　their　grape…shot　on　them　and　kill　them？”　These　were　the　questions　that；　with　a　sinking　of　the　heart；　each　man　was　asking　himself　in　the　great　mass　of　troops　overlooking　the　bridge。　In　the　brilliant　evening　sunshine　they　gazed　at　the　bridge　and　the　hussars　and　at　the　blue　tunics；　with　bayonets　and　guns；　moving　up　on　the　other　side。
“Ugh！　The　hussars　will　be　caught；”　said　Nesvitsky。　“They’re　not　out　of　range　of　grape…shot　now。”
“He　did　wrong　to　take　so　many　men；”　said　the　officer　of　the　suite。
“Yes；　indeed；”　said　Nesvitsky。　“If　he’d　sent　two　bold　fellows　it　would　have　done　as　well。”
“Ah；　your　excellency；”　put　in　Zherkov；　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　hussars；　though　he　still　spoke　with　his　na？ve　manner；　from　which　one　could　not　guess　whether　he　were　speaking　seriously　or　not。　“Ah；　your　excellency。　How　you　look　at　things。　Send　two　men；　but　who　would　give　us　the　Vladimir　and　ribbon　then？　But　as　it　is；　even　if　they　do　pepper　them；　one　can　represent　the　squadron　and　receive　the　ribbon　oneself。　Our　good　friend　Bogdanitch　knows　the　way　to　do　things。”
“I　say；”　said　the　officer　of　the　suite；　“that’s　grape…shot。”
He　pointed　to　the　French　guns；　which　had　been　taken　out　of　the　gun…carriages；　and　were　hurriedly　moving　away。
On　the　French　side；　smoke　rose　among　the　groups　that　had　cannons。　One　puff；　a　second　and　a　third　almost　at　the　same　instant；　and　at　the　very　moment　when　they　heard　the　sound　of　the　first　shot；　there　rose　the　smoke　of　a　fourth；　two　booms　came　one　after　another；　then　a　third。
“Oh；　oh！”　moaned　Nesvitsky；　clutching　at　the　hand　of　the　officer　of　the　suite；　as　though　in　intense　pain。　“Look；　a　man　has　fallen；　fallen；　fallen！”
“Two；　I　think。”
“If　I　were　Tsar；　I’d　never　go　to　war；”　said　Nesvitsky；　turning　away。
The　French　cannons　were　speedily　loaded　again。　The　infantry　in　their　blue　tunics　were　running　towards　the　bridge。　Again　the　puffs　of　smoke　rose　at　different　intervals；　and　the　grape…shot　rattled　and　cracked　on　the　bridge。　But　this　time　Nesvitsky　could　not　see　what　was　happening　at　the　bridge。　A　thick　cloud　of　smoke　had　risen　from　it。　The　hussars　had　succeeded　in　setting　fire　to　the　bridge；　and　the　French　batteries　were　firing　at　them　now；　not　to　hinder　them；　but　because　their　guns　had　been　brought　up　and　they　had　some　one　to　fire　at。
The　French　had　time　to　fire　three　volleys　of　grape…shot　before　the　hussars　got　back　to　their　horses。　Two　were　badly　aimed；　and　the　shot　flew　over　them；　but　the　last　volley　fell　in　the　middle　of　the　group　of　hussars　and　knocked　down　three　men。
Rostov；　absorbed　by　his　relations　with　Bogdanitch；　stepped　on　the　bridge；　not　knowing　what　he　had　to　do。　There　was　no　one　to　slash　at　with　his　sword　（that　was　how　he　always　pictured　a　battle　to　himself）；　and　he　could　be　of　no　use　in　burning　the　bridge；　because　he　had　not　brought　with　him　any　wisps　of　straw；　like　the　other　soldiers。　He　stood　and　looked　about　him；　when　suddenly　there　was　a　rattle　on　the　bridge；　like　a　lot　of　nuts　being　scattered；　and　one　of　the　hussars；　the　one　standing　nearest　him；　fell　with　a　groan　on　the　railing。　Rostov　ran　up　to　him　with　the　others。　Again　some　one　shouted。　“Stretchers！”　Four　men　took　hold　of　the　hussar　and　began　lifting　him　up。　“Oooo！　…　Let　me　be；　for　Christ’s　sake！”　shrieked　the　wounded　man；　but　still　they　lifted　him　up　and　laid　him　on　a　stretcher。　Nikolay　Rostov　turned　away；　and　began　staring　into　the　distance；　at　the　waters　of　the　Danube；　at　the　sky；　at　the　sun；　as　though　he　were　searching　for　something。　How　fair　that　sky　seemed；　how　blue　and　calm　and　deep。　How　brilliant　and　triumphant　seemed　the　setting　sun。　With　what　an　enticing　glimmer　shone　the　water　of　the　faraway　Danube。　And　fairer　still　were　the　far…away　mountains　that　showed　blue　beyond　the　Danube；　the　nunnery；　the　mysterious　gorges；　the　pine　forests；　filled　with　mist　to　the　tree…tops　…　there　all　was　peace　and　happiness。…　“There　is　nothing；　nothing　I　could　wish　for；　if　only　I　were　there；”　thought　Rostov。　“In　myself　alone　and　in　that　sunshine　there　is　so　much　happiness；　while　here　…　groans；　agonies；　and　this　uncertainty；　this　hurry。…　Here　they　are　shouting　something　again　and　again；　all　of　them　are　running　back　somewhere；　and　I’m　running　with　them；　and　here　is　it；　it；　death　hanging　over　me；　all　round　me。…　One　instant；　and　I　shall　never　see　that　sunshine；　that　water；　that　mountain　gorge　again。…”　At　that　moment　the　sun　went　behind　the　clouds；　more　stretchers　came　into　view　ahead　of　Rostov。　And　the　terror　of　death　and　of　the　stretchers；　and　the　loss　of　the　sunshine　and　life；　all　blended　into　one　sensation　of　sickening　fear。
“Good　God；　Thou　who　art　in　that　sky；　save　and　forgive；　and　protect　me；”　Rostov　whispered　to　himself。
The　hussars　ran　back　to　their　horses；　their　voices　grew　louder　and　more　assured；　the　stretchers　disappeared　from　sight。
“Well；　lad；　so　you’ve　had　a　sniff　of　powder！”　Vaska　Denisov　shouted　in　his　ear。
“It’s　all　over；　but　I　am　a　coward；　yes；　I　am　a　coward；”　thought　Rostov；　and　with　a　heavy　sigh　he　took　his　Rook；　who　had　begun　to　go　lame　of　one　leg；　from　the　man　who　held　him　and　began　mounting。
“What　was　that—grape…shot？”　he　asked　of　Denisov。
“Yes；　and　something　like　it　too；”　cried　Denisov；　“they　worked　their　guns　in　fine　style。　But　it’s　a　nasty　business。　A　cavalry　attack’s　a　pleasant　thing—slash　away　at　the　dogs；　but　this　is　for　all　the　devil　like　aiming　at　a　target。”
And　Denisov　rode　away　to　a　group　standing　not　far　from　Rostov；　consisting　of　the　colonel；　Nesvitsky；　Zherkov；　and　the　officer　of　the　suite。
“It　seems　as　if　no　one　noticed　it；　though；”　Rostov　thought　to　himself。　And　indeed　no　one　had　noticed　it　at　all；　for　every　one　was　familiar　with　the　feeling　that　the　ensign；　never　before　under　fire；　was　experiencing　for　the　first　time。
“Now　you’ll　have　something　to　talk　about；”　said　Zherkov；　“they’ll　be　promoting　me　a　sub…lieutenant　before　I　know　where　I　am；　eh？”
“Inform　the　prince　that　I　have　burnt　the　bridge；”　said　the　colonel；　in　a　cheerful　and　triumphant　tone。
“And　if　he　inquires　with　what　losses？”
“Not　worth　mentioning；”　boomed　the　colonel；　“two　hussars　wounded　and　one　stark　dead　on　the　spot；”　he　said；　with　undisguised　cheerfulness。　The　German　was　unable　to　repress　a　smile　of　satisfaction　as　he　sonorously　enunciated　the　idiomatic　Russian　colloquialism　of　the　last　phrase。


Chapter　9
PURSUED　by　the　French　army　of　a　hundred　thousand　men　under　the　command　of　Bonaparte；　received　with　hostility　by　the　inhabitants；　losing　confidence　in　their　allies；　suffering　from　shortness　of　supplies；　and　forced　to　act　under　circumstances　unlike　anything　that　had　been　foreseen；　the　Russian　army　of　thirty…five　thousand　men；　under　the　command　of　Kutuzov；　beat　a　hasty　retreat　to　the　lower　ground　about　the　Danube。　There　they　halted；　and　were　overtaken　by　the　enemy；　and　fought　a　few　rear…guard　skirmishes；　avoiding　an　engagement；　except　in　so　far　as　it　was　necessary　to　secure　a　retreat　without　the　loss　of　their　baggage　and　guns。　There　were　actions　at　Lambach；　at　Amsteten；　and　at　Melk；　but　in　spite　of　the　courage　and　stubbornness—acknowledged　even　by　the　enemy—with　which　the　Russians　fought；　the　only　consequence　of　these　engagements　was　a　still　more　rapid　retreat。　The　Austrian　troops　that　had　escaped　being　taken　at　Ulm；　and　had　joined　Kutuzov’s　forces　at　Braunau；　now　parted　from　the　Russian　army；　and　Kutuzov　was　left　unsupported　with　his　weak　and　exhausted　forces。　The　defence　of　Vienna　could　no　longer　be　dreamed　of。　Instead　of　the　elaborately　planned　campaign　of　attack；　in　accordance　with　the　principles　of　the　modern　science　of　strategy；　the　plan　of　which　had　been　communicated　to　Kutuzov　during　his　sojourn　in　Vienna　by　the　Austrian　Hofkriegsrath；　the　sole　aim—almost　a　hopeless　one—that　remained　now　for　Kutuzov　was　to　avoid　losing　his　army；　like　Mack　at　Ulm；　and　to　effect　a　junction　with　the　fresh　troops　marching　from　Russia。
On　the　28th　of　October；　Kutuzov　took　his　army　across　to　the　left　bank　of　the　Danube；　and　then　for　the　first　time　halted；　leaving　the　Danube　between　his　army　and　the　greater　part　of　the　enemy’s　forces。　On　the　30th　he　attacked　Mortier’s　division；　which　was　on　the　left　bank　of　the　Danube；　and　defeated　it。　In　this　action　for　the　first　time　trophies　were　taken—a　flag；　cannons；　and　two　of　the　enemy’s　generals。　For　the　first　time；　after　retreating　for　a　fortnight；　the　Russian　troops　had　halted；　and　after　fighting　had　not　merely　kept　the　field　of　battle；　but　had　driven　the　French　off　it。　Although　the　troops　were　without　clothing　and　exhausted；　and　had　lost　a　third　of　their　strength　in　wounded；　killed；　and　missing；　although　they　had　left　their　sick　and　wounded　behind　on　the　other　side　of　the　Danube；　with　a　letter　from　Kutuzov　commending　them　to　the　humanity　of　the　enemy；　although　the　great　hospitals　and　houses　in　Krems　could　not　contain　all　the　sick　and　wounded；—in　spite　of　all　that；　the　halt　before　Krems　and　the　victory　over　Mortier　had　greatly　raised　the　spirits　of　the　troops。　Throughout　the　whole　army；　and　also　at　headquarters；　there　were　the　most　cheerful　but　groundless　rumours　of　the　near　approach　of　the　columns　from　Russia；　of　some　victory　gained　by　the　Austrians；　and　of　the　retreat　of　Bonaparte　panic…stricken。
Prince　Andrey　had　been　during　the　engagement　in　attendance　on　the　Austrian　general　Schmidt；　who　was　killed　in　the　battle。　His　horse　had　been　wounded　under　him；　and　he　had　himself　receive