Війна і мир

Chapter 21

           Lázarevglancedmoroselyatthelittlemanwithwhitehandswhowasdoingsomethingtohimand,stillstandingmotionlesspresentingarms,lookedagainstraightintoAlexander’seyes,asifaskingwhetherheshouldstandthere,orgoaway,ordosomethingelse.Butreceivingnoorders,heremainedforsometimeinthatrigidposition.

           TheEmperorsremountedandrodeaway.ThePreobrazhénskbattalion,breakingrank,mingledwiththeFrenchGuardsandsatdownatthetablespreparedforthem.

           Lázarevsatintheplaceofhonor.RussianandFrenchofficersembracedhim,congratulatedhim,andpressedhishands.Crowdsofofficersandciviliansdrewnearmerelytoseehim.ArumbleofRussianandFrenchvoicesandlaughterfilledtheairroundthetablesinthesquare.Twoofficerswithflushedfaces,lookingcheerfulandhappy,passedbyRostóv.

           “Whatd’youthinkofthetreat?Allonsilverplate,”oneofthemwassaying.“HaveyouseenLázarev?”

           “Ihave.”

           “Tomorrow,Ihear,thePreobrazhénskiswillgivethemadinner.”

           “Yes,butwhatluckforLázarev!Twelvehundredfrancs’pensionforlife.”

           “Here’sacap,lads!”shoutedaPreobrazhénsksoldier,donningashaggyFrenchcap.

           “It’safinething!First-rate!”

           “Haveyouheardthepassword?”askedoneGuards’officerofanother.“Thedaybeforeyesterdayitwas‘Napoléon,France,bravoure’;yesterday,‘Alexandre,Russie,grandeur.’OnedayourEmperorgivesitandnextdayNapoleon.TomorrowourEmperorwillsendaSt.George’sCrosstothebravestoftheFrenchGuards.Ithastobedone.Hemustrespondinkind.

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