War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [80]
“How am I?” Dolokhov replied coldly. “As you see.”
The brisk song gave a special meaning to the tone of casual merriment with which Zherkov spoke, and to the intentional coldness of Dolokhov’s replies.
“Well, how are you getting along with your superiors?” asked Zherkov.
“Well enough, they’re good people. How did you manage to turn up on the staff?”
“By appointment. I’m on duty.”
They fell silent.
“She let the falcon go, from her right sleeve let it go,” said the song, involuntarily arousing a cheerful, merry feeling. Their conversation would probably have been different, if they had not been talking to the sounds of the song.
“So, is it true the Austrians have been beaten?” asked Dolokhov.
“Devil knows, they say so.”
“I’m glad,” Dolokhov replied briefly and clearly, as the song required.
“So, then, come over some evening, we’ll set up a game of faro,” said Zherkov.
“What, have you got a lot of money?”
“Come over.”
“Impossible. I’ve sworn off it. No drinking and no gambling, until I’ve been promoted.”
“So, then, till the first action…”
“We’ll see…”
They again fell silent.
“Just come, if you need something, the staff can always be helpful…” said Zherkov.
Dolokhov grinned.
“You’d best not worry. If I need anything, I won’t ask, I’ll take it myself.”
“So, then, I just…”
“Well, and I, too, just…”
“Good-bye.”
“Be well…”
…And high and far he flew
To his own native land…
Zherkov touched his horse with his spurs; it shifted its footing three times excitedly, not knowing which leg to start with, worked it out, and galloped off, going ahead of the company and catching up with the coach, also in time with the song.
III
On returning from the review, Kutuzov, accompanied by the Austrian general, went to his office and, calling his adjutant, told him to bring him certain papers pertaining to the condition of the arriving troops and letters from Archduke Ferdinand, who was heading the army of the vanguard. Prince Andrei Bolkonsky came into the commander in chief’s office with the requested papers. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of the Hofkriegsrath were sitting over a map spread out on the table.
“Ah…” said Kutuzov, glancing at Bolkonsky, as if with this word he was inviting the adjutant to wait, and went on with the conversation begun in French.
“I’m saying only one thing, General,” Kutuzov said with a pleasant graciousness of expression and intonation, which made one listen well to every unhurriedly uttered word. It could be seen that Kutuzov, too, listened to himself with pleasure. “I’m only saying one thing, General, that if the matter depended on my own personal wish, the will of his majesty the emperor Franz would have been fulfilled long ago. I would long ago have joined the archduke. And believe me on my honor, for me personally to hand over the supreme command of the army to a more knowledgeable and skillful general, such as Austria abounds in, and to lay down all this heavy responsibility, for me personally it would be a delight. But circumstances are sometimes stronger than we are, General.”
And Kutuzov smiled with such an expression as if he was saying: “You have every right not to believe me, and I’m even quite indifferent to whether you believe me or not, but you have no cause for telling me so. And that’s the whole point.”
The Austrian general had a displeased look, but he had no choice but to answer Kutuzov in the same tone.
“On the contrary,” he said in a peevish and angry tone, quite contradictory to the flattering meaning of the words he spoke, “on the contrary, Your Excellency’s participation in the common cause is highly appreciated by his majesty; but we think that the present delay is depriving the valiant Russian army and its commanders of the laurels they are accustomed to reap in battle,” he finished an obviously prepared phrase.
Kutuzov bowed with an unchanging smile.
“But I am convinced and, basing myself on the last letter with which his highness Archduke Ferdinand has honored