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Updated: May 6, 2025
Next he thought of that self-satisfied Bonaparte, with his small white hand, who was now an Emperor, liked and respected by Alexander. Then why those severed arms and legs and those dead men?... Then again he thought of Lazarev rewarded and Denisov punished and unpardoned. He caught himself harboring such strange thoughts that he was frightened.
Lazarev glanced morosely at the little man with white hands who was doing something to him and, still standing motionless presenting arms, looked again straight into Alexander's eyes, as if asking whether he should stand there, or go away, or do something else. But receiving no orders, he remained for some time in that rigid position. The Emperors remounted and rode away.
Two officers with flushed faces, looking cheerful and happy, passed by Rostov. "What d'you think of the treat? All on silver plate," one of them was saying. "Have you seen Lazarev?" "I have." "Tomorrow, I hear, the Preobrazhenskis will give them a dinner." "Yes, but what luck for Lazarev! Twelve hundred francs' pension for life."
The Preobrazhensk battalion, breaking rank, mingled with the French Guards and sat down at the tables prepared for them. Lazarev sat in the place of honor. Russian and French officers embraced him, congratulated him, and pressed his hands. Crowds of officers and civilians drew near merely to see him. A rumble of Russian and French voices and laughter filled the air round the tables in the square.
He was an Esthonian by birth, from Vezenberg, and in the course of several years, passing from one farm to another, he had come close to the capital. He spoke Russian very poorly, and as his master was a Russian, by name Lazarev, and as there were no Esthonians in the neighborhood, Yanson had practically remained silent for almost two years.
"Lazarev!" the colonel called, with a frown, and Lazarev, the first soldier in the rank, stepped briskly forward. "Where are you off to? Stop here!" voices whispered to Lazarev who did not know where to go. Lazarev stopped, casting a sidelong look at his colonel in alarm. His face twitched, as often happens to soldiers called before the ranks.
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