战争与和平(上)-第268章

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vices。　It’s　hard　for　you；　but　still　you　are　at　home；　while　they—you　see　what　they　have　come　to；”　he　said；　pointing　to　the　prisoners。　“Worse　than　the　lowest　beggars。　While　they　were　strong；　we　did　not　spare　ourselves；　but　now　we　can　even　spare　them。　They　too　are　men。　Eh；　lads？”
He　looked　about　him。　And　in　the　unflinching；　respectfully　wondering　eyes　staring　persistently　at　him；　he　read　sympathy　with　his　words。　His　face　grew　brighter　and　brighter　with　the　gentle　smile　of　old　age；　that　brought　clusters　of　wrinkles　at　the　corners　of　his　mouth　and　his　eyes。　He　paused　and　dropped　his　head；　as　though　in　doubt。
“But　after　all　is　said　and　done；　who　asked　them　to　come　here？　It　serves　them　right；　the　b—　b—”　he　said　suddenly；　lifting　his　head。　And　swinging　his　riding…whip；　he　rode　off　at　a　gallop；　accompanied　for　the　first　time　during　the　whole　campaign　by　gleeful　guffaws　and　roars　of　hurrah　from　the　men　as　they　moved　out　of　rank。
The　words　uttered　by　Kutuzov　were　hardly　understood　by　the　soldiers。　No　one　could　have　repeated　the　field…marshal’s　speech　at　first　of　such　solemnity；　and　towards　the　end　of　such　homely　simplicity。　But　the　meaning　at　the　bottom　of　his　words；　they　understood　very　well；　and　the　same　feeling　of　solemn　triumph　in　their　victory；　together　with　pity　for　the　enemy　and　the　sense　of　the　justice　of　their　cause—expressed；　too；　with　precisely　the　same　homely　coarseness—lay　at　the　bottom　of　every　soldier’s　heart；　and　found　a　vent　in　delighted　shouts；　that　did　not　cease　for　a　long　while。　When　one　of　the　generals　addressed　the　commander…in…chief　after　this；　asking　whether　he　desired　his　carriage；　Kutuzov　broke　into　a　sudden　sob　in　replying。　He　was　evidently　deeply　moved。


Chapter　7
IT　was　getting　dusk　on　the　8th　of　November；　the　last　day　of　the　battle　of　Krasnoe；　when　the　soldiers　reached　their　halting…place　for　the　night。　The　whole　day　had　been　still　and　frosty；　with　now　and　then　a　few　light　flakes　of　snow。　Towards　evening　the　sky　began　to　grow　clearer。　Through　the　snowflakes　could　be　seen　a　dark；　purplish；　starlit　sky；　and　the　frost　was　growing　more　intense。
A　regiment　of　musketeers；　which　had　left　Tarutino　three　thousand　strong；　but　had　now　dwindled　to　nine　hundred；　was　among　the　first　to　reach　the　halting…place；　a　village　on　the　high　road。　The　quartermasters；　on　meeting　the　regiment；　reported　that　all　the　cottages　were　full　of　sick　and　dead　Frenchmen；　cavalrymen；　and　staff…officers。　There　was　only　one　cottage　left　for　the　colonel　of　the　regiment。
The　colonel　went　on　to　his　cottage。　The　regiment　passed　through　the　village；　and　stacked　their　guns　up　at　the　furthest　cottages　along　the　road。
Like　a　huge；　many…legged　monster；　the　regiment　set　to　work　preparing　its　food　and　lodging　for　the　night。　One　party　of　soldiers　trudged　off；　knee…deep　in　the　snow；　into　the　birch　copse；　on　the　right　of　the　village；　and　the　ring　of　axes　and　cutlasses；　the　crash　of　breaking　branches；　and　the　sounds　of　merry　voices　were　immediately　heard　coming　thence。　Another　group　were　busily　at　work　all　round　the　regimental　baggage…waggons；　which　were　drawn　up　all　together。　Some　fed　the　horses；　while　others　got　out　cooking…pots　and　biscuits。　A　third　section　dispersed　about　the　village；　getting　the　cottages　ready　for　the　staff…officers；　carrying　out　the　dead　bodies　of　the　French　lying　in　the　huts；　and　dragging　away　boards；　dry　wood；　and　straw　from　the　thatch　roofs；　to　furnish　fuel　for　their　fires　and　materials　for　the　shelters　they　rigged　up。
Behind　the　huts　at　the　end　of　the　village　fifteen　soldiers　were　trying　with　merry　shouts　to　pull　down　the　high　wattle　wall　of　a　barn　from　which　they　had　already　removed　the　roof。
“Now　then；　a　strong　pull；　all　together！”　shouted　the　voices；　and　in　the　dark　the　huge；　snow…sprinkled　boards　of　the　wall　began　to　give。　The　lower　stakes　of　the　wattle　cracked　more　and　more　often；　and　at　last　the　wattle　wall　heaved　over；　together　with　the　soldiers；　who　were　hanging　onto　it。　A　loud　shout　and　the　roar　of　coarse　merriment　followed。
“Work　at　it　in　twos！　give　us　a　lever　here！　that’s　it。　Where　are　you　coming　to？”
“Now；　all　together。…　But　wait；　lads！　…　With　a　shout！”　…
All　were　silent；　and　a　low　voice　of　velvety　sweetness　began　singing　a　song。　At　the　end　of　the　third　verse；　as　the　last　note　died　away；　twenty　voices　roared　out　in　chorus；　“O…O…O…O…O！　It’s　coming！　Pull　away！　Heave　away；　lads！　…”　but　in　spite　of　their　united　efforts　the　wall　hardly　moved；　and　in　the　silence　that　followed　the　men　could　be　heard　panting　for　breath。
“Hi；　you　there；　of　the　sixth　company！　You　devils；　you！　Lend　us　a　hand　…　We’ll　do　you　a　good　turn　one　day！”
Twenty　men　of　the　sixth　company；　who　were　passing；　joined　them；　and　the　wattle　wall；　thirty…five　feet　in　length；　and　seven　feet　in　breadth；　was　dragged　along　the　village　street；　falling　over；　and　cutting　the　shoulders　of　the　panting　soldiers。
“Go　on；　do。　…　Heave　away；　you　there。…　What　are　you　stopping　for？　Eh；　there？”　…
The　merry　shouts　of　unseemly　abuse　never　ceased。
“What　are　you　about？”　cried　a　peremptory　voice；　as　a　sergeant　ran　up　to　the　party。　“There　are　gentry　here；　the　general　himself’s　in　the　hut　here；　and　you　devils；　you　curs；　you！　I’ll　teach　you！”　shouted　the　sergeant；　and　sent　a　swinging　blow　at　the　back　of　the　first　soldier　he　could　come　across。　“Can’t　you　go　quietly？”
The　soldiers　were　quiet。　The　soldier　who　had　received　the　blow　began　grumbling；　as　he　rubbed　his　bleeding　face；　which　had　been　scratched　by　his　being　knocked　forward　against　the　wattle。
“Ay；　the　devil；　how　he　does　hit　a　fellow！　Why；　he　has　set　all　my　face　bleeding；”　he　said　in　a　timid　whisper；　as　the　sergeant　walked　away。　“And　you　don’t　enjoy　it；　eh？”　said　a　laughing　voice；　and　the　soldiers；　moderating　their　voices；　moved　on。　As　they　got　out　of　the　village；　they　began　talking　as　loudly　again；　interspersing　their　talk　with　the　same　meaningless　oaths。
In　the　hut　by　which　the　soldiers　had　passed　there　were　assembled　the　chief　officers　in　command；　and　an　eager　conversation　was　going　on　over　their　tea　about　that　day’s　doings　and　the　man？uvres　proposed　for　the　night。　The　plan　was　to　execute　a　flank　movement　to　the　left；　cut　off　and　capture　the　viceroy。
By　the　time　the　soldiers　had　dragged　the　fence　to　its　place　they　found　blazing　fires；　cooking　supper　on　all　sides。　The　firewood　was　crackling；　the　snow　was　melting；　and　the　black　shadows　of　soldiers　were　flitting　to　and　fro　all　over　the　space　between　trampled　down　in　the　snow。
Axes　and　cutlasses　were　at　work　on　all　sides。　Everything　was　done　without　a　word　of　command　being　given。　Wood　was　piled　up　for　a　supply　of　fuel　through　the　night；　shanties　were　being　rigged　up　for　the　officers；　pots　were　being　boiled；　and　arms　and　accoutrements　set　to　rights。
The　wattle　wall　was　set　up　in　a　semicircle　to　give　shelter　from　the　north；　propped　up　by　stakes；　and　before　it　was　built　a　camp…fire。　They　beat　the　tattoo…call；　counted　over　their　number；　had　supper；　and　settled　themselves　round　the　fires—some　repairing　their　foot…gear；　some　smoking　pipes；　others　stripped　naked　trying　to　steam　the　lice　out　of　their　clothes。


Chapter　8
ONE　would　naturally　have　expected　that　in　the　almost　inconceivably　wretched　conditions　in　which　the　Russian　soldiers　were　placed　at　that　time—without　thick　boots；　without　fur　coats；　without　a　roof　over　their　heads　in　the　snow；　with　a　frost　of　eighteen　degrees；　often　without　full　rations—they　must　have　presented　a　most　melancholy　and　depressing　spectacle。
It　was　quite　the　opposite。　Never　under　the　most　favourable　material　conditions　had　the　army　worn　a　livelier　and　more　cheerful　aspect。　This　was　due　to　the　fact　that　every　element　that　showed　signs　of　depression　or　weakness　was　sifted　every　day　out　of　the　army。　All　the　physically　and　morally　weak　had　long　ago　been　left　behind。　What　was　left　was　the　pick　of　the　army—in　strength　of　body　and　of　spirit。
The　camp…fire　of　the　eighth　company；　screened　by　their　wattle　fence；　attracted　a　greater　crowd　than　any。　Two　sergeants　were　sitting　by　it；　and　the　fire　was　blazing　more　brightly　than　any　of　them。　They　insisted　on　logs　being　brought　in　return　for　the　right　of　sitting　under　the　screen。
“Hi；　Makyev；　hullo　…　are　you　lost；　or　have　the　wolves　eaten　you？　Fetch　some　wood；”　shouted　a　red…faced；　red…haired　soldier；　screwing　up　his　eyes；　and　blinking　from　the　smoke；　but　not　moving　back　from　the　fire。
“You　run；　Crow；　and　fetch　some　wood；”　he　cried；　addressing　another　soldier。　The　red…headed　man　was　not　a　non…commissioned　officer；　nor　a　corporal；　but　he　was　a　sturdy　fellow；　and　so　he　gave　orders　to　those　who　were　weaker　than　himself。　A　thin；　little　soldier；　with　a　sharp　nose；　who　was　called　the　“Crow；”　got　up　submissively；　and　was　about　to　obey；　but　at　that　moment　there　stepped　into　the　light　of　the　fire　the　slender；　hand…some　figure　of　a　young　soldier；　carrying　a　load　of　wood。
“Give　it　here。　Well；　that’s　something　like！”
They　broke　up　the　wood　and　threw　it　on；　blew　up　the　fire　with　their　mouths；　and　fanned　it　with　the　skirts　of　their　coats；　and　the　flame　began　to　hiss　and　crackle。　The　soldiers　drew　nearer　the　fire　and　lighted　their　pipes。　The　handsome　young　soldier　who　had　brought　in　the　wood　put　his　arms　akimbo；　and　began　a　smart　and　nimble　shuffle　with　his　frozen　feet　as　he　stood。
“Ah；　mother　dear；　the　dew　is　cold；　but　yet　it　is　fine；　and　a　musketeer！”　…　he　began　singing；　with　a　sort　of　hiccup　at　each　syllable　of　the　song。
“Hey；　his　soles　are　flying　off！”　cried　the　red…haired　man；　noticing　that　the　dancer’s　soles　were　loose。　“He’s　a　rare　devil　for　dancing！”
The　dancer　stopped；　tore　off　the　loose　leather；　and　flung　it　in　the　fire。
“You’re　right　there；　brother；”　said　he；　and　sitting　down　he　took　out　of　his　knapsack　a　strip　of　French　blue　cloth；　and　began　binding　it　round　his　foot。　“It’s　the　steam　that　warps　them；”　he　added；　stretching　his　feet　out　to　the　fire。
“They’ll　soon　serve　us　new　ones。　They　say　when　we　finish　them　off；　we　are　all　to　have　a　double　lot　of　stuff。”
“I　say；　that　son　of　a　bitch；　Petrov；　has　sneaked　off；　it　seems；”　said　a　sergeant。
“It’s　a　long　while　since　I’ve　noticed　him；”　said　the　other。
“Oh；　well；　a　poor　sort　of　soldier　…”
“And　in　the　third　company；　they　were　saying；　there　were　nine　men　missing　at　the　roll…call　yesterday。”
“Well；　but　after　all；　when　one’s　feet　are　frozen；　how’s　one　to　walk？”
“Oh；　stuff　and　nonsense！”　said　the　sergeant。
“Why；　do　you　want　to　do　the　same？”　said　an　old　soldier；　reproachfully　addressing　the　man　who　had　talked　of　frozen　feet。
“Well；　what　do　you　think？”　the　sharp…nosed　soldier；　called　“Crow；”　said　suddenly；　in　a　squeaking　and　quavery　voice；　turning　himself　on　one　elbow　behind　the　fire。　“If　a　man’s　sleek　and　fat；　he　just　grows　thin；　but　for　a　thin　man　it’s　death。　Look　at　me；　now！　I　have　no　strength　left；”　he　said；　with　sudden　resolution；　addressing　a　sergeant。　“Say　the　word　for　me　to　be　sent　off　to　the　hospital。　I’m　one　ache　with　rheumatism；　and　one　only　gets　left　behind　just　the　same　…”
“There；　that’s　enough；　that’s　enough；”　said　the　sergeant　calmly。
The　soldier　was　silent；　and　the　conversation　went　on。
“There’s　a　rare　lot　of　these　Frenchies　have　been　taken　to…day；　but　not　a　pair　of　boots　on　one　of　them；　one　may　say；　worth　having；　no；　not　worth　mentioni