Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

Rostov, with his sharp hunter's eyes, was the first to see these blue French dragoons chasing our Lancers. The chaotic crowd of Lancers and the chasing French dragoons were getting closer and closer. You can see how these small people on the mountain fight each other, chase each other, how they swing their arms or swords. Rostov watched what was happening before him like a hound chasing a beast.He sensed that if he charged now with the hussars at the French dragoons, they would not be able to stand; but if he wanted to charge, he had to charge now, not a minute later, or it would be too late.He looked around him.The captain stood beside him, also staring intently at the cavalry below.

"Andrei Sevastyanitch," said Rostov, "you know we can crush them..." "It was a formidable move," The captain said, "Indeed..." Without hearing what he had to say, Rostov galloped up to the front of the cavalry company, and without waiting for him to give the command to attack, the whole cavalry company, who felt like him, followed him and drove their horses.Rostov himself did not know how or why he did it.He did all this, just as he did when he was hunting, without thinking, without thinking.He saw the dragoons approaching, galloping, in disarray; he knew they would fail, he knew that the moment was fleeting, and if one let it pass, it would be gone forever.The shells hissed so violently around him, and the horse was so eager to gallop that it was impossible to cage it.He spurred his horses and gave the command, and at the same time he heard the clatter of horseshoes behind him as the cavalry company spread out, galloping towards the dragoons down the hill.As soon as they descended the mountain, their striding gallops naturally turned into gallops. The closer they got to their own Lancers and the French dragoons chasing them, the faster they galloped. They were very close to the dragoons, and the dragoons in front who saw the hussars began to move Turned back, the one behind stopped.With the intention of intercepting wolves, Rostov completely let go of his Don horse and galloped to intercept the chaotic formation of dragoons.A Lancer stopped, an infantryman ducked to avoid being trampled by a horse, and an unsaddled horse mingled with the hussars.Almost all the French dragoons fled backwards.Rostov picked out a dragoon on a gray horse and gave chase.On the way he came across a thicket; the steed galloped him through, nearly knocking Nikolai out of the saddle, and it seemed seconds before he could overtake the enemy he had chosen as his target.The Frenchman, presumably an officer by his uniform, was bent over his gray horse, galloping with his saber.In an instant, Rostov's horse's chest touched the officer's ass, almost knocking him on his back, and at the same instant, Rostov himself, not knowing why, raised his saber and shot The Frenchman hacked away.

At the same moment as he did this, Rostov's energy suddenly disappeared.The officer fell, not so much from the blow of the knife as from the shock and fright of the horse, with only a slight wound above the elbow.Rostov reined in his horse and scanned his enemies to see who he had defeated.The French dragoon officer was hopping on the ground with one foot, and the other was hanging on the stirrup.He squinted his eyes in fright, as if waiting for a new blow at any moment, frowned, and looked up at Rostov from below with a terrified expression.His face was pale and muddy, with blond hair, young, with a dimple on his chin, and a pair of light blue eyes, not at all the hostile face on the battlefield, but the most ordinary and ordinary face.Before Rostov could decide what to do with him, the officer shouted: "Jemerends!" ① He tried to get his foot out of the stirrup in a panic, but couldn't, his blue eyes frightened, He kept looking at Rostov.The hussars came galloping to help him free his feet and put him on the saddle. The hussars received the dragoons from all sides; one was wounded and bloody, and still refused to give up his horse; The hussar sat on the horse's hip; the third climbed onto the horse's back with the support of the hussar.The French infantry in front ran and fired.The hussars hurried to the rear with their prisoners, and Rostov rode back with the others, an unpleasant feeling filling his chest.He could not in any way explain to himself the vague, confused feeling he had caused by capturing the officer and cutting him.

-------- ①French: I surrender. The returning hussars were met by Count Osterman Tolstoy, who called Rostov, thanked him and said that he would report to the Emperor his gallantry and apply for the Cross of St. George.When Rostov was called to Count Osterman, he remembered that he had charged without waiting for an order, and that the officer must have summoned him now to punish him for his unauthorized behaviour.So Rostov should have been flattered by Osterman's words of praise and the promise of a reward; but there was still an unpleasant vague feeling that made him sick. "What is it that makes me miserable?" he asked himself, leaving the general. "Is it Ilyn? No, he's all right. Did I do something disgraceful? No, nothing!" Something like regret tormented him. "Yes, yes, for the French officer with the little dimple in his chin, I distinctly remember that I raised my arm and stopped."

Rostov saw the prisoners being taken away, and galloped behind them to see his dimpled Frenchman.Sitting on a restless hussar's horse in his strange uniform, he looked around anxiously.The wound on his arm was hardly an injury.He smiled at Rostov and waved him.Even so Rostov felt ashamed, a little ashamed. That day and the next day, Rostov's friends and colleagues found him morose, not lonely or angry, but silent, thoughtful, and focused.He drank without interest, trying to hide and think about something by himself. Rostov was always thinking about the brilliant military exploits that had amazed him, the awarding him of the St. George's Cross, and even the reputation of being a brave man—something he couldn't understand.

"So they are more afraid than we are!" thought he. "Is that called heroism? Am I doing it for my country? What's wrong with that man with dimples and blue eyes? How frightened he is! He thinks I'm going to kill him. Why should I kill him?" And him? My hands are shaking. But they give me the St. George's Cross, and I don't understand!" However, when Nikolay was worried about these questions and couldn't give himself a clear answer, what was tormenting him, the wheel of fortune for serving turned to him again.After the battle of Ostrovna he was first promoted, and a battalion of hussars was placed under his command.When a brave officer was needed, he was commissioned.