LITMIR.BIZ

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the general fell from his horse in a pool of blood. Nobody gave him a look or thought of raising him.

       "Get onto the ice, over the ice! Go on! Turn! Don't you hear? Go on!" innumerable voices suddenly shouted after the ball had struck the general, the men themselves not knowing what, or why, they were shouting.

       One of the hindmost guns that was going onto the dam turned off onto the ice. Crowds of soldiers from the dam began running onto the frozen pond. The ice gave way under one of the foremost soldiers, and one leg slipped into the water. He tried to right himself but fell in up to his waist. The nearest soldiers shrank back, the gun driver stopped his horse, but from behind still came the shouts: "Onto the ice, why do you stop? Go on! Go on!" And cries of horror were heard in the crowd. The soldiers near the gun waved their arms and beat the horses to make them turn and move on. The horses moved off the bank. The ice, that had held under those on foot, collapsed in a great mass, and some forty men who were on it dashed, some forward and some back, drowning one another.

       Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the crowd that

       covered the dam, the pond, and the bank.

       CHAPTER XIX

       On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and

       unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan.

       Toward evening he ceased moaning and became quite still. He did not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he again felt that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating pain in his head.

       "Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but saw today?" was his first thought. "And I did not know this suffering

       either," he thought. "Yes, I did not know anything, anything at all till now. But where am I?"

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       He listened and heard the sound of approaching horses, and voices speaking French. He opened his eyes. Above him again was the same lofty sky with clouds that had risen and were floating still higher, and between them gleamed blue infinity. He did not turn his head and did not see those who, judging by the sound of hoofs and voices, had ridden up and stopped near him.

       It was Napoleon accompanied by two aides-de-camp. Bonaparte riding over the battlefield had given final orders to strengthen the batteries firing at the Augesd Dam and was looking at the killed and wounded left on the field.

       "Fine men!" remarked Napoleon, looking at a dead Russian grenadier, who, with his face buried in the ground and a blackened nape,

       lay on his stomach with an already stiffened arm flung wide.

       "The ammunition for the guns in position is exhausted, Your Majesty," said an adjutant who had come from the batteries that were

       firing at Augesd.

       "Have some brought from the reserve," said Napoleon, and having gone on a few steps he stopped before Prince Andrew, who lay

       on his back with the flagstaff that had been dropped beside him. (The flag had already been taken by the French as a trophy.) "That's a fine death!" said Napoleon as he gazed at Bolkonski.

       Prince Andrew understood that this was said of him and that it was Napoleon who said it. He heard the speaker addressed as Sire. But he heard the words as he might have heard the buzzing of a fly. Not only did they not interest him, but he took no notice of them and at once forgot them. His head was burning, he felt himself bleeding to death, and he saw above him the remote, lofty, and everlasting sky. He knew it was Napoleon--his hero--but at that moment Napoleon seemed to him such a small, insignificant creature compared with what was passing now between himself and that lofty infinite sky with the clouds flying over it. At that moment it meant nothing to him who might be standing over him, or what was said of him; he was only glad that people were standing near him and only wished that they would help him and bring him back to life, which seemed to him so beautiful now that he had today learned to understand it so differently. He collected all his strength, to stir and utter a sound. He feebly moved his leg and uttered a weak, sickly groan which aroused his own pity.

       "Ah! He is alive," said Napoleon. "Lift this young man up and carry him to the dressing station."

       Having said this, Napoleon rode on to meet Marshal Lannes, who, hat in hand, rode up smiling to the Emperor to congratulate him on the victory.

       Prince Andrew remembered nothing more: he lost consciousness from the terrible pain of being lifted onto the stretcher, the jolting while being moved, and the probing of his wound at the dressing station. He did not regain consciousness till late in the day, when with other wounded and captured Russian officers he was carried to the hospital. During this transfer he felt a little stronger and was able to look about him and even speak.

       The first words he heard on coming to his senses were those of a French convoy officer, who said rapidly: "We must halt here: the

       Emperor will pass here immediately; it will please him to see these gentlemen prisoners."

       "There are so many prisoners today, nearly the whole Russian army, that he is probably tired of them," said another officer.

       "All the same! They say this one is the commander of all the Emperor Alexander's Guards," said the first one, indicating a Russian officer in the white uniform of the Horse Guards.

       Bolkonski recognized Prince Repnin whom he had met in Petersburg society. Beside him stood a lad of nineteen, also a wounded officer of the Horse Guards.

       Bonaparte, having come up at a gallop, stopped his horse. "Which is the senior?" he asked, on seeing the prisoners. They named the colonel, Prince Repnin.

       "You are the commander of the Emperor Alexander's regiment of Horse Guards?" asked Napoleon.

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       "I commanded a squadron," replied Repnin.

       "Your regiment fulfilled its duty honorably," said Napoleon.

       "The praise of a great commander is a soldier's highest reward," said Repnin.

       "I bestow it with pleasure," said Napoleon. "And who is that young man beside you?" Prince Repnin named Lieutenant Sukhtelen.

       After looking at him Napoleon smiled.

       "He's very young to come to meddle with us."

       "Youth is no hindrance to courage," muttered Sukhtelen in a failing voice. "A splendid reply!" said Napoleon. "Young man, you will go far!"

       Prince Andrew, who had also been brought forward before the Emperor's eyes to complete the show of prisoners, could not fail

       to attract his attention. Napoleon apparently remembered seeing him on the battlefield and, addressing him, again used the epithet

       "young man" that was connected in his memory with Prince Andrew. "Well, and you, young man," said he. "How do you feel, mon brave?"

       Though five minutes before, Prince Andrew had been able to say a few words to the soldiers who were carrying him, now with his eyes fixed straight on Napoleon, he was silent.... So insignificant at that moment seemed to him all the interests that engrossed Napoleon, so mean did his hero himself with his paltry vanity and joy in victory appear, compared to the lofty, equitable, and kindly sky which he had seen and understood, that he could not answer him.

       Everything seemed so futile and insignificant in comparison with the stern and solemn train of thought that weakness from loss of blood, suffering, and the nearness of death aroused in him. Looking into Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one alive could understand or explain.

       The Emperor without waiting for an answer turned away and said to one of the officers as he went: "Have these gentlemen attended to and taken to my bivouac; let my doctor, Larrey, examine their wounds. Au revoir, Prince Repnin!" and he spurred his horse and galloped away.

       His face shone with self-satisfaction and pleasure.

       The soldiers

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