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By Root 3384 0

in the middle. Most of them were oblivious and paid no attention to the visitors. Those who were conscious all sat up or raised their thin, yellow faces, and fastened their eyes on Rostov with the same expression of hope for help, of reproach and envy of another man’s health. Rostov went to the middle of the room, glanced into the next two rooms through the open doors, and on both sides saw the same thing. He stopped, silently looking around him. He had never expected to see what he saw. Right in front of him, almost across the middle passage, on the bare floor lay a sick man, probably a Cossack, because his hair was cut square. This Cossack lay on his back, his huge arms and legs spread. His face was purple-red, his eyes were completely rolled up so that only the whites showed, and the veins on his bare feet and arms, also red, were taut as ropes. He struck his head on the floor and said something hoarsely, and started repeating a word. Rostov listened to what he said and figured out the word he was repeating. This word was “drink, drink, drink!” Rostov looked around, hoping to find someone who could put this patient in his place and give him some water.

“Who looks after the patients here?” he asked the assistant. Just then a commissariat soldier, a hospital attendant, came out of the next room and, stamping his feet, snapped to attention in front of Rostov.

“Good day to you, Your Honor, sir!” the soldier shouted out, rolling his eyes at Rostov and obviously taking him for a hospital superior.

“Take him away, give him water,” Rostov said, pointing to the Cossack.

“Yes, sir, Your Honor,” the soldier said with pleasure, rolling his eyes and drawing himself up still more zealously, but not budging from his place.

“No, there’s nothing to be done here,” thought Rostov, lowering his eyes, and he was already about to leave, but he felt a meaningful gaze directed at him from the right and turned to look. Almost in the corner, on an overcoat, sat an old soldier with a yellow, stern face, gaunt as a skeleton’s, and an unshaven gray beard, looking fixedly at Rostov. The old soldier’s neighbor on one side was whispering something to him, pointing at Rostov. Rostov understood that the old man meant to ask him something. He went closer and saw that only one of the old man’s legs was bent under him; the other was missing above the knee. The old man’s other neighbor, who lay without moving, his head thrown back, some distance from him, was a young soldier with a waxen pallor on his snub-nosed, still freckled face, and only the whites of his eyes showing. Rostov looked at this snub-nosed soldier and a chill ran down his spine.

“But this one seems to be…” he turned to the assistant.

“We’ve been asking and asking, Your Honor,” said the old soldier, his lower jaw trembling. “He passed away this morning. We’re people, too, not dogs…”

“I’ll send someone at once, he’ll be taken away, he’ll be taken away,” the assistant said hastily. “If you please, Your Honor.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Rostov said hastily, and, lowering his eyes and shrinking, he tried to pass unnoticed through the line of those reproachful and envious eyes directed at him as he left the room.

XVIII

Going down the corridor, the assistant led Rostov to the officers’ wards, which consisted of three rooms with open doors. In these rooms there were beds; wounded and sick officers were sitting and lying on them. Some walked about the room in hospital gowns. The first person Rostov met in the officers’ ward was a small, thin man without an arm, in a nightcap and hospital gown, with a little pipe in his teeth, who was walking about the first room. Rostov peered at him intently, trying to remember where he had seen him.

“See where God granted us to meet again,” said the small man. “Tushin, Tushin—remember, I gave you a ride at Schöngraben? I’ve had a bit cut off, see…” he said, smiling and showing the empty sleeve of the robe. “It’s Vassily Dmitrich Denisov you’re looking for? He’s my roommate,” he said, on learning who Rostov wanted. “This way, this way.” And Tushin led him