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Between the cannons on the height stood the general in command of the rear…guard and an officer of the suite scanning the country through a field…glass。 A little behind them； there sat on the trunk of a cannon； Nesvitsky； who had been despatched by the commander…in…chief to the rear…guard。 The Cossack who accompanied Nesvitsky had handed him over a knapsack and a flask； and Nesvitsky was regaling the officers with pies and real doppel…k？mmel。 The officers surrounded him in a delighted circle； some on their knees； some sitting cross…legged； like Turks； on the wet grass。
“Yes； there was some sense in that Austrian prince who built a castle here。 It’s a magnificent spot。 Why aren’t you eating； gentlemen？” said Nesvitsky。
“Thank you very much； prince；” answered one of the officers； enjoying the opportunity of talking to a staff…official of such importance。 “It’s a lovely spot。 We marched right by the park； we saw two deer and such a splendid house！”
“Look； prince；” said another； who would dearly have liked to take another pie； but was ashamed to； and therefore affected to be gazing at the countryside； “look； our infantry have just got in there。 Over there； near the meadow behind the village； three of them are dragging something。 They will clean out that palace nicely；” he said； with evident approval。
“No doubt；” said Nesvitsky。 “No； but what I should like；” he added； munching a pie in his moist； handsome mouth； “would be to slip in there。” He pointed to the turreted nunnery that could be seen on the mountainside。 He smiled； his eyes narrowing and gleaming。 “Yes； that would be first…rate； gentlemen！” The officers laughed。
“One might at least scare the nuns a little。 There are Italian girls； they say； among them。 Upon my word； I’d give five years of my life for it！”
“They must be bored； too；” said an officer who was rather bolder； laughing。
Meanwhile the officer of the suite； who was standing in front； pointed something out to the general； the general looked through the field…glass。
“Yes； so it is； so it is；” said the general angrily； taking the field…glass away from his eye and shrugging his shoulders； “they are going to fire at them at the crossing of the river。 And why do they linger so？”
With the naked eye； looking in that direction； one could discern the enemy and their batteries； from which a milky…white smoke was rising。 The smoke was followed by the sound of a shot in the distance； and our troops were unmistakably hurrying to the place of crossing。
Nesvitsky got up puffing and went up to the general； smiling。
“Wouldn’t your excellency take some lunch？” he said。
“It’s a bad business；” said the general； without answering him； “our men have been too slow。”
“Shouldn’t I ride over； your excellency？” said Nesvitsky。
“Yes； ride over； please；” said the general； repeating an order that had already once before been given in detail； “and tell the hussars that they are to cross last and to burn the bridge； as I sent orders； and that they’re to overhaul the burning materials on the bridge。”
“Very good；” answered Nesvitsky。 He called the Cossack with his horse； told him to pick up the knapsack and flask； and lightly swung his heavy person into the saddle。
“Upon my word； I am going to pay a visit to the nuns；” he said to the officers who were watching him； smiling； and he rode along the winding path down the mountain。
“Now then； captain； try how far it’ll carry；” said the general； turning to the artillery officer。 “Have a little fun to pass the time。”
“Men； to the guns！” commanded the officer； and in a moment the gunners ran gaily from the camp fires and loaded the big guns。
“One！” they heard the word of command。 Number one bounded back nimbly。 The cannon boomed with a deafening metallic sound； and whistling over the heads of our men under the mountainside； the grenade flew across； and falling a long way short of the enemy showed by the rising smoke where it had fallen and burst。
The faces of the soldiers and officers lightened up at the sound。 Every one got up and busily watched the movements of our troops below； which could be seen as in the hollow of a hand； and the movements of the advancing enemy。 At the same instant； the sun came out fully from behind the clouds； and the full note of the solitary shot and the brilliance of the bright sunshine melted into a single inspiriting impression of light…hearted gaiety。
Chapter 7
OVER THE BRIDGE two of the enemy’s shots had already flown and there was a crush on the bridge。 In the middle of the bridge stood Nesvitsky。 He had dismounted and stood with his stout person jammed against the railings。 He looked laughingly back at his Cossack； who was standing several paces behind him holding the two horses by their bridles。 Every time Nesvitsky tried to move on； the advancing soldiers and waggons bore down upon him and shoved him back against the railings。 There was nothing for him to do but to smile。
“Hi there； my lad；” said the Cossack to a soldier in charge of a waggon…load who was forcing his way through the foot…soldiers that pressed right up to his wheels and his horses； “what are you about？ No； you wait a bit； you see the general wants to pass。”
But the convoy soldier； taking no notice of the allusion to the general； bawled to the soldiers who blocked the way： “Hi！ fellows； keep to the left！ wait a bit！” But the fellows； shoulder to shoulder； with their bayonets interlocked； moved over the bridge in one compact mass。 Looking down over the rails； Prince Nesvitsky saw the noisy； rapid； but not high waves of the Enns； which； swirling in eddies round the piles of the bridge； chased one another down stream。 Looking on the bridge he saw the living waves of the soldiers； all alike as they streamed by： shakoes with covers on them； knapsacks； bayonets； long rifles； and under the shakoes broad…jawed faces； sunken cheeks； and looks of listless weariness； and legs moving over the boards of the bridge； that were coated with sticky mud。 Sometimes among the monotonous streams of soldiers； like a crest of white foam on the waves of the Enns； an officer forced his way through； in a cloak； with a face of a different type from the soldiers。 Sometimes； like a chip whirling on the river； there passed over the bridge among the waves of infantry a dismounted hussar； an orderly； or an inhabitant of the town。 Sometimes； like a log floating down the river； there moved over the bridge； hemmed in on all sides； a baggage…waggon； piled up high and covered with leather covers。
“Why； they’re like a river bursting its banks；” said the Cossack； stopping hopelessly。 “Are there many more over there？”
“A million； all but one！” said a cheerful soldier in a torn coat； winking； as he passed out of sight； after him came another soldier； an older man。
“If he” （he meant the enemy） “starts popping at the bridge just now；” said the old soldier dismally； addressing his companion； “you’ll forget to scratch yourself。” And he passed on。 After him came another soldier riding on a waggon。
“Where the devil did you put the leg…wrappers？” said an orderly； running after the waggon and fumbling in the back part of it。 And he too passed on