Chapter 9

           

           HavingputonFrenchgreatcoatsandshakos,PétyaandDólokhovrodetotheclearingfromwhichDenísovhadreconnoiteredtheFrenchcamp,andemergingfromtheforestinpitchdarknesstheydescendedintothehollow.Onreachingthebottom,DólokhovtoldtheCossacksaccompanyinghimtoawaithimthereandrodeonataquicktrotalongtheroadtothebridge.Pétya,hisheartinhismouthwithexcitement,rodebyhisside.

           “Ifwe’recaught,Iwon’tbetakenalive!Ihaveapistol,”whisperedhe.

           “Don’ttalkRussian,”saidDólokhovinahurriedwhisper,andatthatverymomenttheyheardthroughthedarknessthechallenge:“Quivive?”*andtheclickofamusket.

           *“Whogoesthere?”

           ThebloodrushedtoPétya’sfaceandhegraspedhispistol.

           “Lanciersdu6-me,”*repliedDólokhov,neitherhasteningnorslackeninghishorse’space.

           *“Lancersofthe6thRegiment.”

           Theblackfigureofasentinelstoodonthebridge.

           “Motd’ordre.”*

           *“Password.”

           Dólokhovreinedinhishorseandadvancedatawalk.

           “Ditesdonc,lecolonelGérardestici?”*heasked.

           *“Tellme,isColonelGérardhere?”

           “Motd’ordre,”repeatedthesentinel,barringthewayandnotreplying.

           “Quandunofficierfaitsaronde,lessentinellesnedemandentpaslemotd’ordre...”criedDólokhovsuddenlyflaringupandridingstraightatthesentinel.“Jevousdemandesilecolonelestici.”*

           *“Whenanofficerismakinghisround,sentinelsdon’task

           himforthepassword....Iamaskingyouifthecolonelis

           here.

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