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Updated: May 28, 2025
"They don't even give one time to dwink!" answered Vaska Denisov. "They keep dwagging the wegiment to and fwo all day. If they mean to fight, let's fight. But the devil knows what this is." "What a dandy you are today!" said Nesvitski, looking at Denisov's new cloak and saddlecloth.
The imposing figure of Nesvitski followed by his Cossack, and the determination of Denisov who flourished his sword and shouted frantically, had such an effect that they managed to squeeze through to the farther side of the bridge and stopped the infantry. Beside the bridge Nesvitski found the colonel to whom he had to deliver the order, and having done this he rode back.
He leaned his whole massive body across the table. "How dare you take it?" he shouted. Hearing that cry and seeing to whom it was addressed, Nesvitski and the neighbor on his right quickly turned in alarm to Bezukhov. "Don't! Don't! What are you about?" whispered their frightened voices. Dolokhov looked at Pierre with clear, mirthful, cruel eyes, and that smile of his which seemed to say, "Ah!
"I told you to fire the bridge, and now someone has gone and blundered; they are all beside themselves over there and one can't make anything out." The colonel deliberately stopped the regiment and turned to Nesvitski. "You spoke to me of inflammable material," said he, "but you said nothing about firing it."
"It's a bad business," said the general without answering him, "our men have been wasting time." "Hadn't I better ride over, your excellency?" asked Nesvitski.
He thought of her pregnancy and felt sorry for her and for himself, and in a nervously emotional and softened mood he went out of the hut in which he was billeted with Nesvitski and began to walk up and down before it. The night was foggy and through the fog the moonlight gleamed mysteriously. "Yes, tomorrow, tomorrow!" he thought. "Tomorrow everything may be over for me!
Zherkov was followed by an officer of the suite who rode up to the colonel of hussars with the same order. After him the stout Nesvitski came galloping up on a Cossack horse that could scarcely carry his weight. "How's this, Colonel?" he shouted as he approached.
These were the questions each man of the troops on the high ground above the bridge involuntarily asked himself with a sinking heart watching the bridge and the hussars in the bright evening light and the blue tunics advancing from the other side with their bayonets and guns. "Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are within grapeshot range now."
Meanwhile Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer of the suite were standing together out of range of the shots, watching, now the small group of men with yellow shakos, dark-green jackets braided with cord, and blue riding breeches, who were swarming near the bridge, and then at what was approaching in the distance from the opposite side the blue uniforms and groups with horses, easily recognizable as artillery.
"Just see where it carries to!" a soldier near by said sternly, looking round at the sound. "Encouraging us to get along quicker," said another uneasily. The crowd moved on again. Nesvitski realized that it was a cannon ball. "Hey, Cossack, my horse!" he said. "Now, then, you there! get out of the way! Make way!"
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