Chapter 62 Chapter Sixteen

Surrounded by his adjutants, Kutuzov rode slowly after the carabineers. He followed the column for about half a mile and stopped at a fork in the road at a lonely abandoned house (which turned out to be a hotel, probably).Both roads lead down the mountain, and troops are marching on both roads. The fog began to dissipate, and the enemy army on the high ground two versts away was faintly visible.The sound of shooting at the lower left became more and more clear.Kutuzov stopped to speak to an Austrian general.Prince Andrew stood a little behind, watching them, and wanted to borrow a telescope from an adjutant.

"Look, look!" said the adjutant, not looking at the army in the distance, but looking down the hill ahead, "these are the French!" Two generals and adjutants vie with each other for a telescope.Everyone's face changed color, showing a look of fear.It was thought that the French army was two versts away, but they suddenly appeared in front of them. "Is this the enemy?...No!...Yes, you see, he...probably...what is it all about?" Several voices came out. Prince Andrei could see with the naked eye a dense French column rushing towards the Appsheron regiment at the lower right, within five hundred paces of where Kutuzov stood.

"Well, the moment has come! My chance has come!" thought Prince Andrew, galloping up to Kutuzov. "The Appsheron regiment must be ordered to stop, my lord!" cried Prince Andrew. But at this moment, a cloud of gunpowder smoke covered everything, and there was the sound of shooting nearby.Two steps away from Prince Andrew, an innocent voice cried out in terror: "Oh, brothers, it's over!" The voice sounded like a command, and everyone ran away at the sound. More and more people ran chaotically back to the place where they passed in front of the emperor five minutes ago.Not only was it difficult to hold back the flow of people, but it was also impossible not to back off with them.Andrey tried to follow Kutuzov.He looked around, confused, unable to understand what was happening in front of him.Nesvitsky blushed and shouted at Kutuzov in a rage that if he did not go away at once he would be captured.Kutuzov stood where he was, ignored him, and only produced a handkerchief.His face was bleeding.Prince Andrew pushed up to him.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his jaw trembling uncontrollably. "It's not here, it's there!" Kutuzov covered his wounded cheek with a handkerchief, and pointed at the fleeing soldier. "Tell them to stop!" cried Kutuzov, but at that moment he probably realized that they could not be stopped, and galloped to the right. Another large group of fleeing people rushed over, wrapping him and retreating. The troops were running back so densely that once they landed in the crowd, it was very difficult to get out.Someone shouted: "Go, why don't you move?" Someone turned around and shot into the sky.Someone beat Kutuzov's horse.With difficulty Kutuzov struggled out of the crowd on the left, and with more than half of his entourage missing, he ran towards the nearby place where the cannon sounded.Prince Andrei, breaking away from the fleeing crowd and trying to follow Kutuzov, saw another battery of Russian artillery firing on the smoky hillside, and the French were rushing towards them.On higher ground there was a group of Russian infantry, who neither advanced to support the artillery nor retreated with the flow of people.A general rode away from the infantry and ran towards Kutuzov.Only four of Kutuzov's retinue remained.All of them turned pale and looked at each other.

"Stop these bastards!" Kutuzov breathlessly pointed at the deserters and said to the regiment commander, but at this moment, as if to punish him for this sentence, the bullets were like a flock of birds, whistling towards the troops. and Kutuzov's entourage flew. The French attacked the battery, shooting at Kutuzov as soon as they saw him.Following the sound of gunshots, the regimental commander hugged his leg; several soldiers fell down, and the warrant officer who raised the flag let go of the flag. The flag shook and fell down, hanging on the guns of several soldiers nearby.The soldiers opened fire without waiting for an order.

"Ah-ah!" Kutuzov groaned in despair, looking around. "Andrei," he murmured, his voice trembling with the feeling of his old age and infirmity, "Andrei," murmured Kutuzov, pointing to the battalion and the enemy troops in disarray. ,"This is how the same thing?" But before Kutuzov could finish this sentence, tears of shame and anger filled his throat, and he dismounted from his horse and ran to the standard. "Go forward, brethren!" he cried in a child's shrill voice. "The opportunity has come!" thought Prince Andrei, clutching the flagpole, listening with joy to the whistling of the bullets that were evidently flying towards him.Several soldiers fell.

"Hurrah!" cried Prince Andrei, reluctantly running forward with the heavy banners in his hands, confident that the whole battalion would follow him. Sure enough, he only ran a few steps alone.The soldiers started to move one by one, and the whole battalion rushed forward shouting "Ulla" and caught up with him.A sergeant from the battalion ran up to take the heavy banner from Prince Andrew's hand, but was immediately killed.Prince Andrei picked up the flag again, dragged the flagpole and charged with the whole battalion.He saw our artillerymen ahead, some of them fighting, and others abandoning their cannons and running towards him.He saw the French infantry seize the horses that drew the cannons and turn the cannons around.Prince Andrew and the battalion were twenty paces from the cannon.He heard bullets whistling over his head, and soldiers on both sides fell down with groans.But he didn't look at them, he just looked at what was going on ahead, at the battery.He clearly saw a red-haired artilleryman, with his cap on one side, vying with a Frenchman for the breech, he grabbing one end, the Frenchman grabbing the other.Prince Andrew clearly saw the flustered and angry looks on the faces of the two, who evidently did not understand what they were doing.

"What are they doing?" thought Prince Andrei, looking at them. "Why doesn't the red-haired artilleryman run away, since he has no arms? Why doesn't the Frenchman stab him with a bayonet? If the Frenchman wants to stab him with a bayonet, he can't run away." Lost." Sure enough, another French soldier ran up to the two fighters with a gun in hand.The red-haired artilleryman, still unaware of what was about to happen, triumphantly snatched back the breech, for his fate was about to be decided.But Prince Andrew did not see the end of the matter.It seemed to him that a soldier nearby had swung a club and hit him on the head.He felt a little pain, and the pain distracted him from what he was looking at.

"What's going on here? I fell down? My legs are useless?" Andrei thought, falling on his back.He opened his eyes to see how the struggle between the French and the artillery would end.He wondered if the red-haired artilleryman had been killed and if the cannon had been lost.But he saw nothing.There was nothing above his head, only the high sky, although not clear, but extremely high, with a few gray clouds floating slowly above. "How quiet, how serene, how solemn, not at all running like me," thought Prince Andrew, "not running, shouting, fighting like us, not showing anger and fear like the French soldiers and artillerymen." Competing for the brush of the gun barrel - the clouds are always floating calmly in the boundless high sky. How come I have never seen this lofty sky before? Now I finally see it, how happy I am! Yes! Except for this boundless Endless sky, everything is empty, everything is false. There is nothing but the sky. There is nothing. But even the sky does not exist, there is only silence, only peace. Praise God!  …”