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- Стр. 787/1273
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For
the
last
three
days
Boguchárovo
had
lain
between
the
two
hostile
armies
,
so
that
it
was
as
easy
for
the
Russian
rearguard
to
get
to
it
as
for
the
French
vanguard
;
Rostóv
,
as
a
careful
squadron
commander
,
wished
to
take
such
provisions
as
remained
at
Boguchárovo
before
the
French
could
get
them
.
Rostóv
and
Ilyín
were
in
the
merriest
of
moods
.
On
the
way
to
Boguchárovo
,
a
princely
estate
with
a
dwelling
house
and
farm
where
they
hoped
to
find
many
domestic
serfs
and
pretty
girls
,
they
questioned
Lavrúshka
about
Napoleon
and
laughed
at
his
stories
,
and
raced
one
another
to
try
Ilyín
's
horse
.
Rostóv
had
no
idea
that
the
village
he
was
entering
was
the
property
of
that
very
Bolkónski
who
had
been
engaged
to
his
sister
.
Rostóv
and
Ilyín
gave
rein
to
their
horses
for
a
last
race
along
the
incline
before
reaching
Boguchárovo
,
and
Rostóv
,
outstripping
Ilyín
,
was
the
first
to
gallop
into
the
village
street
.
"
You
're
first
!
"
cried
Ilyín
,
flushed
.
"
Yes
,
always
first
both
on
the
grassland
and
here
,
"
answered
Rostóv
,
stroking
his
heated
Donéts
horse
.
"
And
I
'd
have
won
on
my
Frenchy
,
your
excellency
,
"
said
Lavrúshka
from
behind
,
alluding
to
his
shabby
cart
horse
,
"
only
I
did
n't
wish
to
mortify
you
.
"
They
rode
at
a
footpace
to
the
barn
,
where
a
large
crowd
of
peasants
was
standing
.
Some
of
the
men
bared
their
heads
,
others
stared
at
the
new
arrivals
without
doffing
their
caps
.
Two
tall
old
peasants
with
wrinkled
faces
and
scanty
beards
emerged
from
the
tavern
,
smiling
,
staggering
,
and
singing
some
incoherent
song
,
and
approached
the
officers
.
