《War And Peace》　Book2 　CHAPTER III
　　　　by Leo Tolstoy

ON RETURNING from the review, Kutuzov, accompanied by the Austrian general,
went to his private room, and calling his adjutant, told him to give him certain
papers, relating to the condition of the newly arrived troops, and letters,
received from Archduke Ferdinand, who was in command of the army at the front.
Prince Andrey Bolkonsky came into the commander-in-chief's room with the papers
he had asked for. Kutuzov and the Austrian member of the Hofkriegsrath were
sitting over a plan that lay unfolded on the table.

"Ah!" ... said Kutuzov, looking round at Bolkonsky; and inviting his adjutant,
as it were, by his word to wait, he went on in French with the
conversation.

"I have only one thing to say, general," said Kutuzov, with an agreeable
elegance of expression and intonation, that forced one to listen for each
deliberately uttered word. It was evident that Kutuzov himself listened to his
voice with pleasure. "I can only say one thing, that if the matter depended on
my personal wishes, the desire of his majesty, the Emperor Francis, should long
ago have been accomplished; I should long ago have joined the archduke. And,
upon my honour, believe me that for me personally to hand over the chief command
of the army to more experienced and skilful generals-such as Austria is so rich
in-and to throw off all this weighty responsibility, for me personally would be
a relief. But circumstances are too strong for us, general." And Kutuzov smiled
with an expression that seemed to say: "You are perfectly at liberty not to
believe me, and indeed it's a matter of perfect indifference to me whether you
believe me or not, but you have no grounds for saying so. And that's the whole
point." The Austrian general looked dissatisfied, but he had no choice but to
answer Kutuzov in the same tone.

"On the contrary," he said in a querulous and irritated voice, that
contrasted with the flattering intention of the words he uttered; "On the
contrary, the participation of your most high excellency in common action is
highly appreciated by his majesty. But we imagine that the present delay robs
the gallant Russian troops and their commander-in-chief of the laurels they are
accustomed to winning in action," he concluded a phrase he had evidently
prepared beforehand.

Kutuzov bowed, still with the same smile.

"But I am convinced of this, and relying on the last letter with which his
Highness the Archduke Ferdinand has honoured me, I imagine that the Austrian
troops under the command of so talented a leader as General Mack, have by now
gained a decisive victory and have no longer need of our aid," said
Kutuzov.

The general frowned. Though there was no positive news of the defeat of the
Austrians, there were too many circumstances in confirmation of the unfavourable
reports; and so Kutuzov's supposition in regard to an Austrian victory sounded
very much like a sneer. But Kutuzov smiled blandly, still with the same
expression, which seemed to say that he had a right to suppose so. And in fact
the last letter he had received from the army of General Mack had given him news
of victory, and of the most favourable strategical position of the army.

"Give me that letter," said Kutuzov, addressing Prince Andrey. "Here, if you
will kindly look"-and Kutuzov, with an ironical smile about the corners of his
mouth, read in German the following passage from the letter of the Archduke
Ferdinand:

"We have a force, perfectly kept together, of nearly 70,000 men, in order to
attack and defeat the enemy if they should pass the Lech. As we are masters of
Ulm, we cannot lose the advantage of remaining masters also of both sides of the
Danube; and moreover able, should the enemy not cross the Lech, to pass over the
Danube at any moment, throw ourselves upon their line of communications, recross
the Danube lower down, and entirely resist the enemy's aim if they should
attempt to turn their whole force upon our faithful ally. In this way we shall
await courageously the moment when the Imperial Russian is ready, and shall
then, in conjunction, easily find a possibility of preparing for the foe that
fate which he so richly deserves."

Kutuzov concluded this period with a heavy sigh and looked intently and
genially at the member of the Hofkriegsrath.

"But you know, your excellency, the sage precept to prepare for the worst,"
said the Austrian general, obviously wishing to have done with jests and to come
to business. He could not help glancing round at the adjutant.

"Excuse me, general," Kutuzov interrupted him, and he, too, turned to Prince
Andrey. "Here, my dear boy, get all the reports from our scouts from Kozlovsky.
Here are two letters from Count Nostits, here is a letter from his Highness the
Archduke Ferdinand, here is another," he said, giving him several papers. "And
of all this make out clearly in French a memorandum showing all the information
we have had of the movements of the Austrian Army. Well, do so, and then show it
to his excellency."

Prince Andrey bowed in token of understanding from the first word not merely
what had been said, but also what Kutuzov would have liked to have said to him.
He gathered up the papers, and making a comprehensive bow, stepped softly over
the carpet and went out into the reception-room.

Although so short a time had passed since Prince Andrey had left Russia, he
had changed greatly during that time. In the expression of his face, in his
gestures, in his gait, there was scarcely a trace to be seen now of his former
affectation, ennui, and indolence. He had the air of a man who has not time to
think of the impression he is making on others, and is absorbed in work, both
agreeable and interesting. His face showed more satisfaction with himself and
those around him. His smile and his glance were more light-hearted and
attractive.

Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very cordially,
had promised not to forget him, had marked him out among the other adjutants,
had taken him with him to Vienna and given him the more serious commissions.
From Vienna, Kutuzov had written to his old comrade, Prince Andrey's
father.

"Your son," he wrote, "gives promise of becoming an officer, who will make
his name by his industry, firmness, and conscientiousness. I consider myself
lucky to have such an assistant at hand."

On Kutuzov's staff, among his fellow-officers, and in the army generally,
Prince Andrey had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two quite opposite
reputations. Some, the minority, regarded Prince Andrey as a being different
from themselves and from all other men, expected great things of him, listened
to him, were enthusiastic in his praise, and imitated him, and with such people
Prince Andrey was frank and agreeable. Others, the majority, did not like Prince
Andrey, and regarded him as a sulky, cold, and disagreeable person. But with the
latter class, too, Prince Andrey knew how to behave so that he was respected and
even feared by them.

Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the reception-room, Prince Andrey went in
with his papers to his comrade, the adjutant on duty, Kozlovsky, who was sitting
in the window with a book.

"What is it, prince?" queried Kozlovsky.

"I am told to make a note of the reason why we are not moving forward."

"And why aren't we?"

Prince Andrey shrugged his shoulders

"No news from Mack?" asked Kozlovsky.

"No."

"If it were true that he had been beaten, news would have come."

"Most likely," said Prince Andrey, and he moved towards the door to go out.
But he was met on the way by a tall man who at that instant walked into the
reception-room, slamming the door. The stranger, who had obviously just arrived,
was an Austrian general in a long coat, with a black kerchief tied round his
head, and the order of Maria Theresa on his neck. Prince Andrey stopped
short.

"Commander-in-chief Kutuzov?" the general asked quickly, speaking with a
harsh German accent. He looked about him on both sides, and without a pause
walked to the door of the private room.

"The commander-in-chief is engaged," said Kozlovsky, hurriedly going up to
the unknown general and barring his way to the door. "Whom am I to
announce?"

The unknown general looked disdainfully down at the short figure of
Kozlovsky, as though surprised that they could be ignorant of his
identity.

"The commander-in-chief is engaged," Kozlovsky repeated tranquilly.

The general's face contracted, his lips twitched and quivered. He took out a
notebook, hurriedly scribbled something in pencil, tore out the leaf, handed it
to Kozlovsky, and with rapid steps walked to the window, dropped on to a chair
and looked round at the persons in the room, as though asking what they were
looking at him for. Then the general lifted his head, craned his neck forward as
though intending to say something, but immediately, as though carelessly
beginning to hum to himself, uttered a strange sound which broke off at once.
The door of the private room opened, and Kutuzov appeared in the doorway.

The general with the bandaged head, bent forward as though fleeing from
danger, strode towards Kutuzov, his thin legs moving swiftly.

"You see the unfortunate Mack," he articulated in French in a breaking
voice.

The face of Kutuzov, as he stood in the doorway, remained for several
instants perfectlyunmoved. Then a frown seemed to run over his face, like a
wave, leaving his forehead smooth again; he bowed his head respectfully, closed
his eyes, ushered Mack in before him without a word, and closed the door behind
him.

The report, which had been in circulation before this, of the defeat of the
Austrians and the surrender of the whole army at Ulm, turned out to be the
truth. Within half an hour adjutants had been despatched in various directions
with orders. It was evident that the Russian troops which had hitherto been
inactive, were destined soon to meet the enemy.

Prince Andrey was one of those rare staff-officers whose interests were
concentrated on the general progress of the war. On seeing Mack and learning the
details of his overthrow, he grasped the fact that half the campaign was lost;
he perceived all the difficulty of the position of the Russian troops, and
vividly pictured to himself what lay before the Army, and the part he would have
to play in the work in store for them. He could not help feeling a rush of
joyful emotion at the thought of the humiliation of self-confident Austria, and
the prospect within a week, perhaps, of seeing and taking part in the meeting of
the Russians with the French, the first since Suvorov's day. But he was afraid
of the genius of Bonaparte, which might turn out to be more powerful than all
the bravery of the Russian troops; and at the same time he could not bear to
entertain the idea of the disgrace of his favourite hero.

Excited and irritated by these ideas, Prince Andrey went towards his own room
to write to his father, to whom he wrote every day. In the corridor he met
Nesvitsky, the comrade with whom he shared a room, and the comic man, Zherkov.
They were, as usual, laughing at some joke.

"What are you looking so dismal about?" asked Nesvitsky, noticing Prince
Andrey's pale face and gleaming eyes.

"There's nothing to be gay about," answered Bolkonsky.

Just as Prince Andrey met Nesvitsky and Zherkov, there came towards them from
the other end of the corridor Strauch, an Austrian general, who was on Kutuzov's
staff in charge of the provisioning of the Russian army, and the member of the
Hofkriegsrath, who had arrived the previous evening. There was plenty of room in
the wide corridor for the generals to pass the three officers easily. But
Zherkov, pulling Nesvitsky back by the arm, cried in a breathless voice:

"They are coming! ... they are coming! ... move aside, make way! please, make
way."

The generals advanced with an air of wishing to avoid burdensome honours. The
face of the comic man, Zherkov, suddenly wore a stupid smile of glee, which he
seemed unable to suppress.

"Your Excellency," he said in German, moving forward and addressing the
Austrian general, "I have the honour to congratulate you." He bowed, and
awkwardly, as children do at dancing-lessons, he began scraping first with one
leg and then with the other. The member of the Hofkriegsrath looked severely at
him, but seeing the seriousness of his stupid smile, he could not refuse him a
moment's attention. He screwed up his eyes and showed that he was
listening.

"I have the honour to congratulate you. General Mack has arrived, quite well,
only slightly wounded here," he added, pointing with a beaming smile to his
head.

The general frowned, turned away and went on.

"Gott, wie naïv!" he said angrily, when he was a few steps away.

Nesvitsky with a chuckle threw his arms round Prince Andrey, but Bolkonsky,
turning even paler, pushed him away with a furious expression, and turned to
Zherkov. The nervous irritability, into which he had been thrown by the sight of
Mack, the news of his defeat and the thought of what lay before the Russian
army, found a vent in anger at the misplaced jest of Zherkov.

"If you, sir," he began cuttingly, with a slight trembling in his lower jaw,
"like to be a clown, I can't prevent your being so, but if you dare to play the
fool another time in my presence, I'll teach you how to behave."

Nesvitsky and Zherkov were so astounded at this outburst that they gazed at
Bolkonsky with open eyes.

"Why, I only congratulated them," said Zherkov.

"I am not jesting with you; be silent, please!" shouted Bolkonsky, and taking
Nesvitsky's arm, he walked away from Zherkov, who could not find any
reply.

"Come, what is the matter, my dear boy?" said Nesvitsky, trying to soothe
him.

"What's the matter?" said Prince Andrey, standing still from excitement.
"Why, you ought to understand that we're either officers, who serve their Tsar
and their country and rejoice in the success, and grieve at the defeat of the
common cause, or we're hirelings, who have no interest in our master's business.
Forty thousand men massacred and the army of our allies destroyed, and you find
something in that to laugh at," he said, as though by this French phrase he were
strengthening his view. "It is all very well for a worthless fellow like that
individual of whom you have made a friend, but not for you, not for you. None
but schoolboys can find amusement in such jokes," Prince Andrey added in
Russian, uttering the word with a French accent. He noticed that Zherkov could
still hear him, and waited to see whether the cornet would not reply. But the
cornet turned and went out of the corridor.