War And Peace

‘I went to get another one,’ Tikhon went on. ‘I creeps up through the wood like this, and I lays meself down.’ Suddenly, in one smooth movement, Tikhon was down on his belly, showing them how he had done it. ‘One shows up, so I grabs ’im,’ he went on, ‘like this . . .’ Tikhon skipped lightly to his feet. ‘ “You an’ me,” says I, “we’m off to see the colonel.” He starts yellin’ ’is ’ead off, and suddenly there’s four of ’em. All rushin’ at me with their little swords out. Took me axe to ’em, I did, like this. “What’s all this?” says I. “Jesus, I’m off,” ’ cried Tikhon, waving his arms in the air and squaring his chest with a fearsome scowl.

‘Yes, we were up there on the hill. We saw you legging it through the puddles,’ said the hetman, screwing up his glittering eyes.

Petya was finding it hard not to laugh, but he could see they were all holding it back. His eyes flew back and forth between the three faces. He couldn’t make head or tail of what was going on.

‘Don’t you fool about with me,’ said Denisov, coughing angrily. ‘Why didn’t you bwing me that first one?’

Tikhon started scratching his back with one hand and his head with the other, and all at once his face broadened out, beaming with an inane grin that showed why they had called him ‘gap-tooth’ (Shcherbaty). Denisov broke into a smile, Petya burst out laughing and Tikhon joined in.

‘I tell you, ’e was no good,’ said Tikhon. ‘Lousy dresser too. Couldn’t take ’im nowhere. Nasty piece o’ work, your Honour. “Oh no,” says he, “I be a gendral’s son,” says he, “an’ I aint goin’ nowhere.” ’

‘Agh, you swine!’ said Denisov. ‘I needed him for questioning . . .’

‘Oh, but I asked ’im some questions,’ said Tikhon. ‘Said ’e didn’t know very much. “There’s lots of us,” says ’e, “but they’m a miserable bunch, an’ they’m all the same. One good shout,” says he, “and you’ll get the lot,” ’ Tikhon concluded, looking Denisov straight in the eye cheerily enough but with determination.

‘I’ve a good mind to give you a damn good thwashing. Teach you to fool about with me,’ said Denisov sternly.

‘No need to go on like that,’ said Tikhon, ‘just because I didn’t see none of your Frenchies. When it gets a bit dark I’ll go an’ catch whatever you want. Get you three of ’em.’

‘Come on, then, let’s get going,’ said Denisov. All the way to the forester’s hut he refused to speak, and his face wore an angry scowl.

Tikhon dropped back, and Petya heard the Cossacks laughing with him and at him about a pair of boots he had thrown into the bushes.

Tikhon’s words and his smiling manner had given him plenty to laugh at, but when this passed, Petya suddenly realized Tikhon had killed the man. He felt queasy. He stole a glance at the boy prisoner and felt a pang in his heart. But the queasiness was short-lived. He felt duty-bound to hold his head high, look brave and important and ask the hetman some questions about tomorrow’s assignment. He just had to live up to the company he was now in.

The officer Denisov had sent to find Dolokhov came out to meet him with the news that Dolokhov would soon be with them and all was well with him.

Denisov’s spirits rose, and he beckoned to Petya. ‘Wight, then. Come and tell me what’s been happening to you,’ he said.

CHAPTER 7

When the Rostov family had still been in the process of moving out of Moscow Petya had left them to join his regiment, and was soon taken on as an orderly by a general in charge of a large guerrilla unit.

Ever since he had received his commission, and especially since joining a regiment on active service and taking part in the battle of Vyazma, Petya had been in a constant state of elation at his grown-up status, and he was burning with all-consuming anxiety not to miss any opportunity for true heroism. He was delighted with everything he had seen and experienced in the army, but he couldn’t escape the impression that the really heroic things were going on right now in places where he happened not to be. So he was in a constant hurry to get to places where he wasn’t.