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- Стр. 181/1273
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There
was
no
one
to
hew
down
(
as
he
had
always
imagined
battles
to
himself
)
,
nor
could
he
help
to
fire
the
bridge
because
he
had
not
brought
any
burning
straw
with
him
like
the
other
soldiers
.
He
stood
looking
about
him
,
when
suddenly
he
heard
a
rattle
on
the
bridge
as
if
nuts
were
being
spilt
,
and
the
hussar
nearest
to
him
fell
against
the
rails
with
a
groan
.
Rostóv
ran
up
to
him
with
the
others
.
Again
someone
shouted
,
"
Stretchers
!
"
Four
men
seized
the
hussar
and
began
lifting
him
.
"
Oooh
!
For
Christ
's
sake
let
me
alone
!
"
cried
the
wounded
man
,
but
still
he
was
lifted
and
laid
on
the
stretcher
.
Nicholas
Rostóv
turned
away
and
,
as
if
searching
for
something
,
gazed
into
the
distance
,
at
the
waters
of
the
Danube
,
at
the
sky
,
and
at
the
sun
.
How
beautiful
the
sky
looked
;
how
blue
,
how
calm
,
and
how
deep
!
How
bright
and
glorious
was
the
setting
sun
!
With
what
soft
glitter
the
waters
of
the
distant
Danube
shone
.
And
fairer
still
were
the
faraway
blue
mountains
beyond
the
river
,
the
nunnery
,
the
mysterious
gorges
,
and
the
pine
forests
veiled
in
the
mist
of
their
summits
...
There
was
peace
and
happiness
...
"
I
should
wish
for
nothing
else
,
nothing
,
if
only
I
were
there
,
"
thought
Rostóv
.
"
In
myself
alone
and
in
that
sunshine
there
is
so
much
happiness
;
but
here
...
groans
,
suffering
,
fear
,
and
this
uncertainty
and
hurry
...
There
--
they
are
shouting
again
,
and
again
are
all
running
back
somewhere
,
and
I
shall
run
with
them
,
and
it
,
death
,
is
here
above
me
and
around
...
Another
instant
and
I
shall
never
again
see
the
sun
,
this
water
,
that
gorge
!
...
"
At
that
instant
the
sun
began
to
hide
behind
the
clouds
,
and
other
stretchers
came
into
view
before
Rostóv
.
And
the
fear
of
death
and
of
the
stretchers
,
and
love
of
the
sun
and
of
life
,
all
merged
into
one
feeling
of
sickening
agitation
.
"
O
Lord
God
!
Thou
who
art
in
that
heaven
,
save
,
forgive
,
and
protect
me
!
"
Rostóv
whispered
.
The
hussars
ran
back
to
the
men
who
held
their
horses
;
their
voices
sounded
louder
and
calmer
,
the
stretchers
disappeared
from
sight
.
"
Well
,
fwiend
?
So
you
've
smelt
powdah
!
"
shouted
Váska
Denísov
just
above
his
ear
.
"
It
's
all
over
;
but
I
am
a
coward
--
yes
,
a
coward
!
"
thought
Rostóv
,
and
sighing
deeply
he
took
Rook
,
his
horse
,
which
stood
resting
one
foot
,
from
the
orderly
and
began
to
mount
.
"
Was
that
grapeshot
?
"
he
asked
Denísov
.
