‘Who prevented their taking me twenty times over? But you kn< if they do catch me—and you too with your chivalrous sentiments— will just be the same—the nearest aspen-tree.’ He paused. ‘We must getting to work, though. Send my Cossack here with the pack. I ha two French uniforms. Well, are you coming with me?’ he asked Pet}
‘I? Yes, yes, of course,’ cried Petya, blushing till the tears came in his eyes, and glancing at Denisov.
While Dolohov had been arguing with Denisov what should be do with prisoners, Petya had again had that feeling of discomfort a: nervous hurry; but again he had not time to get a clear idea of wh they were talking about. ‘If that’s what is thought by grown-up mt famous leaders, then it must be so, it must be all right,’ he thougl ‘And the great thing is, that Denisov shouldn’t dare to imagine that must obey him, that he can order me about. I shall certainly go wi Dolohov into the French camp. He can go, and so can I!’
To all Denisov’s efforts to dissuade him from going, Petya replied th he too liked doing things properly and not in haphazard fashion, and tit he never thought about danger to himself.
‘For, you must admit, if we don’t know exactly how many men the are there, it might cost the life of hundreds, and it is only we two, and I very much wish it, and I shall certainly, most certainly go, and doi try to prevent me,’he said;‘it won’t be any use . . .’
IX
Petya and Dolohov, after dressing up in French uniforms and shakof rode to the clearing from which Denisov had looked at the French cam and coming out of the wood, descended into the hollow in the pitch dar ness. When they had ridden downhill, Dolohov bade the Cossacks a companying him to wait there, and set off at a smart trot along the ro; towards the bridge. Petya, faint with excitement, trotted along beside hii ‘If we are caught, I won’t be taken alive. I have a pistol,’ whisper Petya.
‘Don’t speak Russian,’ said Dolohov, in a rapid whisper, and at th moment they heard in the dark the challenge: ‘Who goes there?’ and t click of a gun.
The blood rushed into Petya’s face, and he clutched at his pistol.
Uhlans of the Sixth Regiment,’ said Dolohov, neither hastening nor sckening his horse’s pace.
The black figure of a sentinel stood on the bridge.
The password?’
Dolohov reined in his horse, and advanced at a walking pace.
Tell me, is Colonel Gerard here?’ he said.
Password?’ repeated the sentinel, making no reply and barring their
f-
When an officer makes his round, sentinels don’t ask him for the passed . . .’ cried Dolohov, suddenly losing his temper and riding straight ithe sentinel. ‘I ask you, is the colonel here?’
And not waiting for an answer from the sentinel, who moved aside, [ilohov rode at a walking pace uphill.
Noticing the black outline of a man crossing the road, Dolohov stopped ? man, and asked where the colonel and officers were. The man, a soldier A/h a sack over his shoulder, stopped, came close up to Dolohov’s horse, poking it with his hand, and told them in a simple and friendly way : it the colonel and the officers were higher up the hill, on the right, in ;: courtyard of the farm, as he called the little manor-house.
After going further along the road, from both sides of which they heard F?nch talk round the camp-fires, Dolohov turned into the yard of the inor-house. On reaching the gate, he dismounted and walked towards a 3;, blazing fire, round which several men were sitting, engaged in loud :«iversation. There was something boiling in a cauldron on one side, and roldier in a peaked cap and blue coat, kneeling in the bright glow of the h, was stirring it with his ramrod.
He’s a tough customer,’ said one of the officers, sitting in the shadow ) the opposite side of the fire.
He’ll make them run, the rabbits’ (a French proverb), said the other, a h a laugh.
Both paused, and peered into the darkness at the sound of the steps ) Petya and Dolohov approaching with their horses.
Bonjour, messieurs!’ Dolohov called loudly and distinctly.
There was a stir among the officers in the shadow, and a tall officer with nng neck came round the fire and went up to Dolohov.
Is that you, Clement?’ said he. ‘Where the devil . . .’ but becoming lare of his mistake, he did not finish, and with a slight frown greeted f lohov as a stranger, and asked him what he could do for him. Dolohov :d him that he and his comrade were trying to catch up their regiment, li asked, addressing the company in general, whether the officers knew 1/thing about the Sixth Regiment. No one could tell them anything lout it; and Petya fancied the officers began to look at him and Dolohov n h unfriendly and suspicious eyes.
'For several seconds no one spoke.
If you’re reckoning on some soup, you have come too late,’ said a voice f m behind the fire, with a smothered laugh.
990 W A R A'*N D PEACE
Dolohov answered that they had had supper, and wanted to push o further that night.
