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The first time Prince Andrew understood where he was and what was the matter with him and remembered being wounded and how was when he asked to be carried into the hut after his caleche had stopped at Mytishchi.
She now saw him again as he had been at Mytishchi, at Troitsa, and at Yaroslavl. She saw his face, heard his voice, repeated his words and her own, and sometimes devised other words they might have spoken. There he is lying back in an armchair in his velvet cloak, leaning his head on his thin pale hand. His chest is dreadfully hollow and his shoulders raised.
In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, above the high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glow of another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knew that it was Little Mytishchi burning set on fire by Mamonov's Cossacks. "But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked an orderly. All turned their attention to the glow.
The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September was watched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by the retreating troops, with many different feelings. The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles from Moscow.
"But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov's Cossacks." "But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away." "Look, it must be in Moscow!" Two of the gazers went round to the other side of the coach and sat down on its steps. "It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, and this is right on the other side." Several men joined the first two.
But after the night in Mytishchi when, half delirious, he had seen her for whom he longed appear before him and, having pressed her hand to his lips, had shed gentle, happy tears, love for a particular woman again crept unobserved into his heart and once more bound him to life. And joyful and agitating thoughts began to occupy his mind.
They had started so late on the first of September, the road had been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had been forgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decided to spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The next morning they woke late and were again delayed so often that they only got as far as Great Mytishchi.
The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly and piteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of the autumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as the Rostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes on account of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hut simply to be farther away from the wounded man.
But on the seventh day he ate with pleasure a piece of bread with some tea, and the doctor noticed that his temperature was lower. He had regained consciousness that morning. The first night after they left Moscow had been fairly warm and he had remained in the caleche, but at Mytishchi the wounded man himself asked to be taken out and given some tea.
But in the yard there was a light from the fire at Little Mytishchi a mile and a half away, and through the night came the noise of people shouting at a tavern Mamonov's Cossacks had set up across the street, and the adjutant's unceasing moans could still be heard. For a long time Natasha listened attentively to the sounds that reached her from inside and outside the room and did not move.
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