‘There are two men coming—an officer and a Cossack. Only I wouldn’t >e 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 ater. The foremost was an officer, dishevelled looking, and soaked hrough, with his trousers tucked up above his knees; he was lashing his lorse into a weary gallop. Behind him a Cossack trotted along, standing ip in his stirrups. This officer, a quite young boy, with a broad, rosy face nd keen, merry eyes, galloped up to Denisov, and handed him a sopping •acke't.
gjS WARANDPEACE
‘From the general,’ he said. ‘I must apologise for its not being qui dry. . . .’
Denisov, frowning, took the packet and broke it open.
‘Why, they kept telling us it was so dangerous,’ said the officer, turnii to the esaul while Denisov was reading the letter. ‘But Komarov’—ai he indicated the Cossack—‘and I were prepared. We have both tv pisto . . . But what’s this?’he asked, seeing the French drummer-boy. 1 prisoner? You have had a battle already? May I talk to him?’
‘Rostov! Petya!’ Denisov cried at that moment, running through tl packet that had been given him. ‘Why, how was it you didn’t say wl you were?’ and Denisov, turning with a smile, held out his hand to tl officer. This officer was Petya Rostov.
Petya had been all the way preparing himself to behave with Denise as a grown-up person and an officer should do, making no reference i their previous acquaintance. But as soon as Denisov smiled at hir Petya beamed at once, blushed with delight, and forgetting all the form; demeanour he had been intending to preserve, he began telling him ho he had ridden by the French, and how glad he was he had been give this commission, and how he had already been in a battle at Vyazm; and how a certain hussar had distinguished himself in it.
‘Well, I am glad to see you,’ Denisov interrupted him, and his fac looked anxious again.
‘Mihail Feoklititch,’ he said to the esaul, ‘this is from the Germa again, you know. He’ (Petya) ‘is in his suite.’ And Denisov told th esaul that the letter, which had just been brought, repeated the Germa general’s request that they would join him in attacking the transport. ‘1 we don’t catch them by to-morrow, he’ll snatch them from under ou noses,’ he concluded.
While Denisov was talking to the esaul, Petya, disconcerted by Deni sov’s cold tone, and imagining that that tone might be due to the condi tion of his trousers, furtively pulled them down under his cloak, tryin to do so unobserved, and to maintain as martial an air as possible.
‘Will your honour have any instructions to give me?’ he said t Denisov, putting his hand to the peak of his cap, and going back to th comedy of adjutant and general, which he had prepared himself to per form, ‘or should I remain with your honour?’
‘Instructions? . . .’ said Denisov absently. ‘Well, can you stay til to-morrow?’
‘As, please . . . May I stay with you?’ cried Petya.
‘Well, what were your instructions from your general—to go back a 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 directec a party of them to go to the hut in the wood, which they had fixed on as < resting-place, and the officer on the Kirghiz horse (this officer per
WARANuEEACE 979
irmed the duties of an adjutant) to go and look for Dolohov, to find out here he was, and whether he were coming in the evening.
Denisov himself, with the esaul and Petya, intended to ride to the edge f the wood near Shamshevo to have a look at the position of the French, here 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 ussar with the prisoner, turned to the left and crossed a ravine towards lie edge of the wood.
V
he rain was over, but a mist was falling and drops of water dripped •om the branches of the trees. Denisov, the esaul, and Petya, in silence, allowed the peasant in the pointed cap, who, stepping lightly and noise- •ssly in his bast shoes over roots and wet leaves, led them to the edge of le wood.
Coming out on the road, the peasant paused, looked about him, and jrned toward a thin screen of trees. He stood still at a big oak, still overed with leaves, and beckoned mysteriously to them.
