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loths pulled over their heads。 The horses； chestnut and bay； all looked black from the soaking rain。 Their necks looked strangely thin with their drenched manes； and steam rose in clouds from them。 Clothes； saddles； and bridles； all were sticky and swollen with the wet； like the earth and the fallen leaves with which the track was strewn。 The men sat huddled up； trying not to move； so as to keep warm the water that had already reached their skins； and not to let any fresh stream of cold rain trickle in anywhere under their seat； or at their knees or necks。 In the midst of the file of Cossacks two waggons； drawn by French horses； and Cossack saddle…horses hitched on in front； rumbled over stumps and branches； and splashed through the ruts full of water。
Denisov’s horse； in avoiding a puddle in the track； knocked his rider’s knee against a tree。
“Ah； devil！” Denisov cried angrily； and showing his teeth； he struck his horse three times with his whip； splashing himself and his comrades with mud。 Denisov was out of humour； both from the rain and hunger （no one had eaten anything since morning）； and； most of all； from having no news of Dolohov； and from no French prisoner having been caught to give him information。
“We shall never have such another chance to fall on the transport as to…day。 To attack them alone would be risky； and to put it off to another day—some one of the bigger leaders will carry the booty off from under our noses；” thought Denisov； continually looking ahead； and fancying he saw the messenger from Dolohov he expected。
Coming out into a clearing from which he could get a view to some distance on the right； Denisov stopped。
“There’s some one coming；” he said。
The esaul looked in the direction Denisov was pointing to。
“There are two men coming—an officer and a Cossack。 Only I wouldn’t be prepositive that is the colonel himself；” said the esaul； who loved to use words that were unfamiliar to the Cossacks。 The two figures； riding downhill； disappeared from sight； and came into view again a few minutes later。 The foremost was an officer； dishevelled looking； and soaked through； with his trousers tucked up above his knees； he was lashing his horse into a weary gallop。 Behind him a Cossack trotted along； standing up in his stirrups。 This officer； a quite young boy； with a broad； rosy face and keen； merry eyes； galloped up to Denisov； and handed him a sopping packet。
“From the general；” he said。 “I must apologise for its not being quite dry。…”
Denisov； frowning； took the packet and broke it open。
“Why； they kept telling us it was so dangerous；” said the officer； turning to the esaul while Denisov was reading the letter。 “But Komarov”— and he indicated the Cossack—“and I were prepared。 We have both two pisto … But what’s this？” he asked； seeing the French drummer…boy。 “A prisoner？ You have had a battle already？ May I talk to him？”
“Rostov！ Petya！” Denisov cried at that moment； running through the packet that had been given him。 “Why； how was it you didn’t say who you were？” and Denisov； turning with a smile； held out his hand to the officer。 This officer was Petya Rostov。
Petya had been all the way preparing himself to behave with Denisov as a grown…up person and an officer should do； making no reference to their previous acquaintance。 But as soon as Denisov smiled at him； Petya beamed at once； blushed with delight； and forgetting all the formal demeanour he had been intending to preserve； he began telling him how he had ridden by the French； and how glad he was he had been given this commission； and how he had already been in a battle at Vyazma； and how a certain hussar had distinguished himself in it。
“Well； I am glad to see you；” Denisov interrupted him； and his face looked anxious again。
“Mihail Feoklititch；” he said to the esaul； “this is from the German again； you know。 He” （Petya） “is in his suite。” And Denisov told the esaul that the letter； which had just been brought； repeated the German general’s request that they would join him in attacking the transport。 “If we don’t catch them by to…morrow； he’ll snatch them from under our noses；” he concluded。
While Denisov was talking to the esaul； Petya； disconcerted by Denisov’s cold tone； and imagining that that tone might be due to the condition of his trousers； furtively pulled them down under his cloak； trying to do so unobserved； and to maintain as martial an air as possible。
“Will your honour have any instructions to give me？” he said to Denisov； putting his hand to the peak of his cap； and going back to the comedy of adjutant and general； which he had prepared himself to perform； “or should I remain with your honour？”
“Instructions？ …” said Denisov absently。 “Well； can you stay till tomorrow？”
“Oh； please … May I stay with you？” cried Petya。
“Well； what were your instructions from your general—to go back at once？” asked Denisov。
Petya blushed。
“Oh； he gave me no instructions。 I think I may？” he said interrogatively。
“All right； then；” said Denisov。 And turning to his followers； he directed a party of them to go to the hut in the wood； which they had fixed on as a resting…place； and the officer on the Kirghiz horse （this officer performed the duties of an adjutant） to go and look for Dolohov； to find out where he was； and whether he were coming in the evening。
Denisov himself； with the esaul and Petya； intended to ride to the edge of the wood near Shamshevo to have a look at the position of the French； where their attack next day was to take place。
“Come； my man；” he said to their peasant guide； “take us to Shamshevo。”
Denisov； Petya； and the esaul； accompanied by a few Cossacks and the hussar with the prisoner； turned to the left and crossed a ravine towards the edge of the wood。
Chapter 5
THE RAIN was over； but a mist was falling and drops of water dripped from the branches of the trees。 Denisov； the esaul； and Petya； in silence； followed the peasant in the pointed cap； who； stepping lightly and noiselessly in his bast shoes over roots and wet leaves； led them to the edge of the wood。
Coming out on the road； the peasant paused； looked about him； and turned toward a thin screen of trees。 He stood still at a big oak； still covered with leaves； and beckoned mysteriously to them。
Denisov and Petya rode up to him。 From the place where the peasant was standing the French could be seen。 Just beyond the wood a field of spring corn ran sharply downhill。 On the right； across a steep ravine； could be seen a little village and a manor…house with the roofs broken down。 In that village and in the house and all over the high ground in the garden； by the wells and the pond； and all along the road uphill from the bridge to the village； not more than five hundred yards away； crowds of men could be seen in the shifting mist。 They could distinctly hear their foreign cries at the horses pulling the baggage uphill and their calls to one another。
“Give me the prisoner here；” said Denisov； in a low voice； never taking his eyes off the French。
A Cossack got off his horse； lifted the boy down； and came with him to Denisov。 Denisov； pointing to the French； asked the boy what troops the