War And Peace: Book 2 - CHAPTER IV

作者: Leo Tolstoy

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Author: Leo Tolstoy

THE PAVLOGRADSKY REGIMENT of hussars was stationed two miles from Braunau.

The squadron in which Nikolay Rostov was serving as ensign was billeted on a

German village, Salzeneck. The officer in command of the squadron, Captain

Denisov, known through the whole cavalry division under the name of Vaska

Denisov, had been assigned the best quarters in the village. Ensign Rostov had

been sharing his quarters, ever since he overtook the regiment in Poland.

On the 8th of October, the very day when at headquarters all was astir over

the news of Mack's defeat, the routine of life was going on as before among the

officers of this squadron.

Denisov, who had been losing all night at cards, had not yet returned home,

when Rostov rode back early in the morning from a foraging expedition. Rostov,

in his ensign's uniform, rode up to the steps, with a jerk to his horse, swung

his leg over with a supple, youthful action, stood a moment in the stirrup as

though loath to part from the horse, at last sprang down and called the

orderly.

“Ah, Bondarenko, friend of my heart,” he said to the hussar who rushed

headlong up to his horse. “Walk him up and down, my dear fellow,” he said, with

that gay and brotherly cordiality with which good-hearted young people behave to

every one, when they are happy.

“Yes, your excellency,” answered the Little Russian, shaking his head

good-humouredly.

“Mind now, walk him about well!”

Another hussar rushed up to the horse too, but Bondarenko had already hold of

the reins.

It was evident that the ensign was liberal with his tips, and that his

service was a profitable one. Rostov stroked the horse on the neck and then on

the haunch, and lingered on the steps.

“Splendid! What a horse he will be!” he said to himself, and smiling and

holding his sword, he ran up the steps, clanking his spurs. The German, on whom

they were billeted, looked out of the cowshed, wearing a jerkin and a pointed

cap, and holding a fork, with which he was clearing out the dung. The German's

face brightened at once when he saw Rostov. He smiled good-humouredly and

winked. “Good-morning, good-morning!” he repeated, apparently taking pleasure in

greeting the young man.

“At work already?” said Rostov, still with the same happy, fraternal smile

that was constantly on his eager face. “Long live the Austrians! Long live the

Russians! Hurrah for the Emperor Alexander!” he said, repeating phrases that had

often been uttered by the German. The German laughed, came right out of the

cowshed, pulled off his cap, and waving it over his head, cried:

“And long live all the world!”

Rostov too, like the German, waved his cap over his bead, and laughing cried:

“And hurrah for all the world!” Though there was no reason for any special

rejoicing either for the German, clearing out his shed, or for Rostov, coming

back from foraging for hay, both these persons gazed at one another in delighted

ecstasy and brotherly love, wagged their heads at each other in token of their

mutual affection, and parted with smiles, the German to his cowshed, and Rostov

to the cottage he shared with Denisov.

“Where's your master?” he asked of Lavrushka, Denisov's valet, well known to

all the regiment as a rogue.

“His honour's not been in since the evening. He's been losing, for sure,”

answered Lavrushka. “I know by now, if he wins, he'll come home early to boast

of his luck; but if he's not back by morning, it means that he's lost,—he'll

come back in a rage. Shall I bring coffee?”

“Yes, bring it.”

Ten minutes later, Lavrushka brought in the coffee.

“He's coming!” said he; “now for trouble!”

Rostov glanced out of the window and saw Denisov returning home. Denisov was

a little man with a red face, sparkling black eyes, tousled black whiskers and

hair. He was wearing an unbuttoned tunic, wide breeches that fell in folds, and

on the back of his head a crushed hussar's cap. Gloomily, with downcast head, he

drew near the steps.

“Lavrushka,” he shouted, loudly and angrily, lisping the r, “come,

take it off, blockhead!”

“Well, I am taking it off,” answered Lavrushka's voice.

“Ah! you are up already,” said Denisov, coming into the room.

“Long ago,” said Rostov; “I've been out already after hay, and I have seen

Fr

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