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ing the important message intrusted to him。 It was by now nearly nine o’clock。 He dismounted and walked up to the entrance of a big manor…house that had been left uninjured between the French and the Russian lines。 Footmen were bustling about with wines and edibles in the vestibule and the buffet。 Choruses were standing under the windows。 The officer was led up to a door； and he saw all at once all the most important generals in the army； among them the big； impressive figure of Yermolov。 All the generals were standing in a semicircle； laughing loudly； their uniforms unbuttoned； and their faces flushed and animated。 In the middle of the room a handsome； short general with a red face； was smartly and jauntily executing the steps of the trepak。
“Ha； ha； ha！ Bravo； Nikolay Ivanovitch！ ha； ha！ …”
The officer felt doubly guilty in breaking in at such a moment with important business； and he would have waited； but one of the generals caught sight of him； and hearing what he had come for； told Yermolov。 The latter； with a frowning face； came out to the officer； and hearing his story； took the papers from him without a word。
“Do you suppose it was by chance that he was not at home？” said a comrade of the officer’s who was on the staff； speaking of Yermolov that evening。 “That’s all stuff and nonsense； it was all done on purpose。 To play a trick on Konovnitsyn。 You see； there’ll be a pretty kettle of fish to…morrow！”
Chapter 5
THE DECREPIT OLD MAN； Kutuzov； had bade them wake him early next day； and in the early morning he said his prayers； dressed； and with a disagreeable consciousness that he had to command in a battle of which he did not approve； he got into his carriage and drove from Letashevka； five versts behind Tarutino； to the place where the attacking columns were to be gathered together。 Kutuzov drove along； dropping asleep and waking up again； and listening to hear whether that were the sound of shots on the right； whether the action had not begun。 But everything was still quiet。 A damp and cloudy autumn day was dawning。 As he approached Tarutino； Kutuzov noticed cavalry soldiers leading their horses to a watercourse across the road along which he was riding。 Kutuzov looked at them； stopped his carriage； and asked what regiment did they belong to。 They belonged to a column which was to have been far away in front in ambush。
“A mistake； perhaps；” thought the old commander…in…chief。 But as he drove on further； Kutuzov saw infantry regiments with their arms stacked； and the soldiers in their drawers busy cooking porridge and fetching wood。 He sent for their officer。 The officer submitted that no command to advance had been given。
“No command …” Kutuzov began； but he checked himself at once； and ordered the senior officer to be summoned to him。 Getting out of the carriage； with drooping head he walked to and fro in silence； breathing heavily。 When the general staff officer； Eichen； for whom he had sent； arrived； Kutuzov turned purple with rage； not because that officer was to blame for the mistake； but because he was an object of sufficient importance for him to vent his wrath on。 And staggering and gasping； the old man fell into that state of fury in which he would sometimes roll on the ground in frenzy； and flew at Eichen； shaking his fists； and shouting abuse in the language of the gutter。 Another officer； Captain Brozin； who was in no way to blame； happening to appear； suffered the same fate。
“What will the blackguards do next？ Shoot them！ The scoundrels！” he shouted hoarsely； shaking his fist and staggering。 He was in a state of actual physical suffering。 He； his highness the commander…in…chief； who was assured by every one that no one in Russia had ever had such power as he； he put into this position—made a laughing…stock to the whole army。 “Worrying myself； praying over to…day； not sleeping all night； and thinking about everything—all for nothing！” he thought about himself。 “When I was a mere boy of an officer no one would have dared to make a laughing…stock of me like this … And now！” He was in a state of physical suffering； as though from corporal punishment； and could not help expressing it in wrathful and agonised outcries。 But soon his strength was exhausted； and looking about him； feeling that he had said a great deal that was unjust； he got into his carriage and drove back in silence。
His wrath once spent did not return again； and Kutuzov； blinking feebly； listened to explanations and self…justifications （Yermolov himself did not put in an appearance till next day）； and to the earnest representation of Bennigsen； Konovnitsyn； and Toll that the battle that had not come off should take place on the following day。 And again Kutuzov had to acquiesce。
Chapter 6
NEXT DAY the troops were massed in their appointed places by the evening； and were moving forward in the night。 It was an autumn night with a sky overcast by purplish…black clouds； but free from rain。 The earth was damp； but not muddy； and the troops advanced noiselessly； except for a hardly audible jingling now and then from the artillery。 They were forbidden to talk aloud； to smoke or to strike a light； the horses were kept from neighing。 The secrecy of the enterprise increased its attractiveness。 The men marched on gaily。 Several columns halted； stacked their guns in piles； and lay down on the chilly ground； supposing they had reached their destination。 Other columns （the majority） marched all night long； and arrived somewhere； unmistakably not where they were meant to be。
Count Orlov…Denisov with his Cossacks （the detachment of least importance of the lot） was the only one that reached the right place at the right time。 This detachment halted at the extreme edge of a forest； on a path from the village of Stromilovo to Dmitrovskoe。
Before dawn Count Orlov； who had fallen asleep； was waked up。 A deserter from the French camp was brought to him。 It was a Polish under…officer of Poniatovsky’s corps。 This under…officer explained in Polish that he had deserted because he had been insulted in the service； because he ought long ago to have been an officer； and was braver than any of them； and so he had thrown them up and wanted to punish them。 He said that Murat was camping for the night a verst from them； and that if they would give him a convoy of a hundred men he would take him alive。 Count Orlov…Denisov took council with his comrades。 The proposition was too alluring to be refused。 Every one clamoured to go； everyone advised making the attempt。 After many disputes and confabulations； it was settled that Major…General Grekov； with two regiments of Cossacks； should go with the Polish deserter。
“Now； remember；” said Count Orlov…Denisov to the Polish deserter； as he dismissed him； “if you have been lying； I will have you shot like a dog； but if it’s true； a hundred crowns。”
The deserter made no reply to these words； and with a resolute air mounted his horse and rode off with Grekov’s men； who were hurriedly gathered together。 They disappeared into the wood。 Count Orlov； shivering from the freshness of the dawning morning； and excited by the enterprise he had undertaken on his own responsibility； came out of the wood