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"
He
is
a
Russian
spy
,
"
Davout
interrupted
,
addressing
another
general
who
was
present
,
but
whom
Pierre
had
not
noticed
.
Davout
turned
away
.
With
an
unexpected
reverberation
in
his
voice
Pierre
rapidly
began
:
"
No
,
monseigneur
,
"
he
said
,
suddenly
remembering
that
Davout
was
a
duke
.
"
No
,
monseigneur
,
you
can
not
have
known
me
.
I
am
a
militia
officer
and
have
not
quitted
Moscow
.
"
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"
Your
name
?
"
asked
Davout
.
"
Bezúkhov
.
"
"
What
proof
have
I
that
you
are
not
lying
?
"
"
Monseigneur
!
"
exclaimed
Pierre
,
not
in
an
offended
but
in
a
pleading
voice
.
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Davout
looked
up
and
gazed
intently
at
him
.
For
some
seconds
they
looked
at
one
another
,
and
that
look
saved
Pierre
.
Apart
from
conditions
of
war
and
law
,
that
look
established
human
relations
between
the
two
men
.
At
that
moment
an
immense
number
of
things
passed
dimly
through
both
their
minds
,
and
they
realized
that
they
were
both
children
of
humanity
and
were
brothers
.
At
the
first
glance
,
when
Davout
had
only
raised
his
head
from
the
papers
where
human
affairs
and
lives
were
indicated
by
numbers
,
Pierre
was
merely
a
circumstance
,
and
Davout
could
have
shot
him
without
burdening
his
conscience
with
an
evil
deed
,
but
now
he
saw
in
him
a
human
being
.
He
reflected
for
a
moment
.