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ers in lively conversation streamed out of a side street。
“Not hurt； Petrov？” inquired one。
“We gave it them hot； lads。 They won’t meddle with us now；” another was saying。
“One couldn’t see a thing。 Didn’t they give it to their own men！ No seeing for the darkness； mates。 Isn’t there something to drink？”
The French had been repulsed for the last time。 And again； in the complete darkness； Tushin’s cannons moved forward； surrounded by the infantry； who kept up a hum of talk。
In the darkness they flowed on like an unseen； gloomy river always in the same direction； with a buzz of whisper and talk and the thud of hoofs and rumble of wheels。 Above all other sounds； in the confused uproar； rose the moans and cries of the wounded； more distinct than anything in the darkness of the night。 Their moans seemed to fill all the darkness surrounding the troops。 Their moans and the darkness seemed to melt into one。 A little later a thrill of emotion passed over the moving crowd。 Some one followed by a suite had ridden by on a white horse； and had said something as he passed。
“What did he say？ Where we are going now？ to halt； eh？ Thanked us； what？” eager questions were heard on all sides； and the whole moving mass began to press back on itself （the foremost； it seemed； had halted）； and a rumour passed through that the order had been given to halt。 All halted in the muddy road； just where they were。
Fires were lighted and the talk became more audible。 Captain Tushin； after giving instructions to his battery； sent some of his soldiers to look for an ambulance or a doctor for the ensign； and sat down by the fire his soldiers had lighted by the roadside。 Rostov too dragged himself to the fire。 His whole body was trembling with fever from the pain； the cold； and the damp。 He was dreadfully sleepy； but he could not go to sleep for the agonising pain in his arm； which ached and would not be easy in any position。 He closed his eyes； then opened them to stare at the fire； which seemed to him dazzling red； and then at the stooping； feeble figure of Tushin； squatting in Turkish fashion near him。 The big； kindly； and shrewd eyes of Tushin were fixed upon him with sympathy and commiseration。 He saw that Tushin wished with all his soul to help him； but could do nothing for him。
On all sides they heard the footsteps and the chatter of the infantry going and coming and settling themselves round them。 The sounds of voices； of steps； and of horses’ hoofs tramping in the mud； the crackling firewood far and near； all melted into one fluctuating roar of sound。
It was not now as before an unseen river flowing in the darkness； but a gloomy sea subsiding and still agitated after a storm。 Rostov gazed vacantly and listened to what was passing before him and around him。 An infantry soldier came up to the fire； squatted on his heels； held his hands to the fire； and turned his face。
“You don’t mind； your honour？” he said； looking inquiringly at Tushin。 “Here I’ve got lost from my company； your honour； I don’t know myself where I am。 It’s dreadful！”
With the soldier an infantry officer approached the fire with a bandaged face。 He asked Tushin to have the cannon moved a very little； so as to let a store waggon pass by。 After the officer two soldiers ran up to the fire。 They were swearing desperately and fighting； trying to pull a boot from one another。
“No fear！ you picked it up！ that’s smart！” one shouted in a husky voice。
Then a thin； pale soldier approached； his neck bandaged with a bloodstained rag。 With a voice of exasperation he asked the artillerymen for water。
“Why； is one to die like a dog？” he said。
Tushin told them to give him water。 Next a good…humoured soldier ran up； to beg for some red…hot embers for the infantry。
“Some of your fire for the infantry！ Glad to halt； lads。 Thanks for the loan of the firing； we’ll pay it back with interest；” he said； carrying some glowing firebrands away into the darkness。
Next four soldiers passed by； carrying something heavy in an overcoat。 One of them stumbled。
“Ay； the devils； they’ve left firewood in the road；” grumbled one。
“He’s dead； why carry him？” said one of them。
“Come on； you！” And they vanished into the darkness with their burden。
“Does it ache； eh？” Tushin asked Rostov in a whisper。
“Yes； it does ache。”
“Your honour’s sent for to the general。 Here in a cottage he is；” said a gunner； coming up to Tushin。
“In a minute； my dear。” Tushin got up and walked away from the fire； buttoning up his coat and setting himself straight。
In a cottage that had been prepared for him not far from the artillerymen’s fire； Prince Bagration was sitting at dinner； talking with several commanding officers； who had gathered about him。 The little old colonel with the half…shut eyes was there； greedily gnawing at a mutton…bone； and the general of twenty…two years’ irreproachable service； flushed with a glass of vodka and his dinner； and the staff…officer with the signet ring； and Zherkov； stealing uneasy glances at every one； and Prince Andrey； pale with set lips and feverishly glittering eyes。
In the corner of the cottage room stood a French flag； that had been captured； and the auditor with the na？ve countenance was feeling the stuff of which the flag was made； and shaking his head with a puzzled air； possibly because looking at the flag really interested him； or possibly because he did not enjoy the sight of the dinner； as he was hungry and no place had been laid for him。 In the next cottage there was the French colonel； who had been taken prisoner by the dragoons。 Our officers were flocking in to look at him。 Prince Bagration thanked the several commanding officers； and inquired into details of the battle and of the losses。 The general； whose regiment had been inspected at Braunau； submitted to the prince that as soon as the engagement began； he had fallen back from the copse； mustered the men who were cutting wood； and letting them pass by him； had made a bayonet charge with two battalions and repulsed the French。
“As soon as I saw； your excellency； that the first battalion was thrown into confusion； I stood in the road and thought； ‘I’ll let them get through and then open fire on them’； and that’s what I did。”
The general had so longed to do this； he had so regretted not having succeeded in doing it； that it seemed to him now that this was just what had happened。 Indeed might it not actually have been so？ Who could make out in such confusion what did and what did not happen？
“And by the way I ought to note； your excellency；” he continued； recalling Dolohov’s conversation with Kutuzov and his own late interview with the degraded officer； “that the private Dolohov； degraded to the ranks； took a French officer prisoner before my eyes and particularly distinguished himself。”
“I saw here； your excellency； the attack of the Pavlograd hussars；” Zherkov put in； looking uneasily about him。 He had not seen the hussars at all that day； but had only heard about them from an infantry officer。 “They broke up two squares； your excellency。”
When Zherkov began to speak； several officers smiled； as they always did； expecting a joke from him。 But as they perceived