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"
Anyhow
his
Serene
Highness
knows
you
and
will
receive
you
graciously
.
That
's
what
you
must
do
.
"
The
doctor
seemed
tired
and
in
a
hurry
.
"
You
think
so
?
...
Ah
,
I
also
wanted
to
ask
you
where
our
position
is
exactly
?
"
said
Pierre
.
"
The
position
?
"
repeated
the
doctor
.
"
Well
,
that
's
not
my
line
.
Drive
past
Tatárinova
,
a
lot
of
digging
is
going
on
there
.
Go
up
the
hillock
and
you
'll
see
.
"
"
Can
one
see
from
there
?
...
If
you
would
...
"
But
the
doctor
interrupted
him
and
moved
toward
his
gig
.
"
I
would
go
with
you
but
on
my
honor
I
'm
up
to
here
"
--
and
he
pointed
to
his
throat
.
"
I
'm
galloping
to
the
commander
of
the
corps
.
How
do
matters
stand
?
...
You
know
,
Count
,
there
'll
be
a
battle
tomorrow
.
Out
of
an
army
of
a
hundred
thousand
we
must
expect
at
least
twenty
thousand
wounded
,
and
we
have
n't
stretchers
,
or
bunks
,
or
dressers
,
or
doctors
enough
for
six
thousand
.
We
have
ten
thousand
carts
,
but
we
need
other
things
as
well
--
we
must
manage
as
best
we
can
!
"
The
strange
thought
that
of
the
thousands
of
men
,
young
and
old
,
who
had
stared
with
merry
surprise
at
his
hat
(
perhaps
the
very
men
he
had
noticed
)
,
twenty
thousand
were
inevitably
doomed
to
wounds
and
death
amazed
Pierre
.
"
They
may
die
tomorrow
;
why
are
they
thinking
of
anything
but
death
?
"
And
by
some
latent
sequence
of
thought
the
descent
of
the
Mozháysk
hill
,
the
carts
with
the
wounded
,
the
ringing
bells
,
the
slanting
rays
of
the
sun
,
and
the
songs
of
the
cavalrymen
vividly
recurred
to
his
mind
.
"
The
cavalry
ride
to
battle
and
meet
the
wounded
and
do
not
for
a
moment
think
of
what
awaits
them
,
but
pass
by
,
winking
at
the
wounded
.
Yet
from
among
these
men
twenty
thousand
are
doomed
to
die
,
and
they
wonder
at
my
hat
!
Strange
!
"
thought
Pierre
,
continuing
his
way
to
Tatárinova
.
