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Bolkónski
and
Denísov
moved
to
the
gate
,
at
which
a
knot
of
soldiers
(
a
guard
of
honor
)
was
standing
,
and
they
saw
Kutúzov
coming
down
the
street
mounted
on
a
rather
small
sorrel
horse
.
A
huge
suite
of
generals
rode
behind
him
.
Barclay
was
riding
almost
beside
him
,
and
a
crowd
of
officers
ran
after
and
around
them
shouting
,
"
Hurrah
!
"
His
adjutants
galloped
into
the
yard
before
him
.
Kutúzov
was
impatiently
urging
on
his
horse
,
which
ambled
smoothly
under
his
weight
,
and
he
raised
his
hand
to
his
white
Horse
Guard
's
cap
with
a
red
band
and
no
peak
,
nodding
his
head
continually
.
When
he
came
up
to
the
guard
of
honor
,
a
fine
set
of
Grenadiers
mostly
wearing
decorations
,
who
were
giving
him
the
salute
,
he
looked
at
them
silently
and
attentively
for
nearly
a
minute
with
the
steady
gaze
of
a
commander
and
then
turned
to
the
crowd
of
generals
and
officers
surrounding
him
.
Suddenly
his
face
assumed
a
subtle
expression
,
he
shrugged
his
shoulders
with
an
air
of
perplexity
.
"
And
with
such
fine
fellows
to
retreat
and
retreat
!
Well
,
good-by
,
General
,
"
he
added
,
and
rode
into
the
yard
past
Prince
Andrew
and
Denísov
.
"
Hurrah
!
hurrah
!
hurrah
!
"
shouted
those
behind
him
.
Since
Prince
Andrew
had
last
seen
him
Kutúzov
had
grown
still
more
corpulent
,
flaccid
,
and
fat
.
But
the
bleached
eyeball
,
the
scar
,
and
the
familiar
weariness
of
his
expression
were
still
the
same
.
He
was
wearing
the
white
Horse
Guard
's
cap
and
a
military
overcoat
with
a
whip
hanging
over
his
shoulder
by
a
thin
strap
.
He
sat
heavily
and
swayed
limply
on
his
brisk
little
horse
.
"
Whew
...
whew
...
whew
!
"
he
whistled
just
audibly
as
he
rode
into
the
yard
.
His
face
expressed
the
relief
of
relaxed
strain
felt
by
a
man
who
means
to
rest
after
a
ceremony
.
He
drew
his
left
foot
out
of
the
stirrup
and
,
lurching
with
his
whole
body
and
puckering
his
face
with
the
effort
,
raised
it
with
difficulty
onto
the
saddle
,
leaned
on
his
knee
,
groaned
,
and
slipped
down
into
the
arms
of
the
Cossacks
and
adjutants
who
stood
ready
to
assist
him
.
He
pulled
himself
together
,
looked
round
,
screwing
up
his
eyes
,
glanced
at
Prince
Andrew
,
and
,
evidently
not
recognizing
him
,
moved
with
his
waddling
gait
to
the
porch
.
"
Whew
...
whew
...
whew
!
"
he
whistled
,
and
again
glanced
at
Prince
Andrew
.
As
often
occurs
with
old
men
,
it
was
only
after
some
seconds
that
the
impression
produced
by
Prince
Andrew
's
face
linked
itself
up
with
Kutúzov
's
remembrance
of
his
personality
.
"
Ah
,
how
do
you
do
,
my
dear
prince
?
How
do
you
do
,
my
dear
boy
?
Come
along
...
"
said
he
,
glancing
wearily
round
,
and
he
stepped
onto
the
porch
which
creaked
under
his
weight
.
He
unbuttoned
his
coat
and
sat
down
on
a
bench
in
the
porch
.
