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- Война и мир
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- Стр. 862/1273
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Pierre
noticed
that
after
every
ball
that
hit
the
redoubt
,
and
after
every
loss
,
the
liveliness
increased
more
and
more
.
As
the
flames
of
the
fire
hidden
within
come
more
and
more
vividly
and
rapidly
from
an
approaching
thundercloud
,
so
,
as
if
in
opposition
to
what
was
taking
place
,
the
lightning
of
hidden
fire
growing
more
and
more
intense
glowed
in
the
faces
of
these
men
.
Pierre
did
not
look
out
at
the
battlefield
and
was
not
concerned
to
know
what
was
happening
there
;
he
was
entirely
absorbed
in
watching
this
fire
which
burned
ever
more
brightly
and
which
he
felt
was
flaming
up
in
the
same
way
in
his
own
soul
.
At
ten
o'clock
the
infantry
that
had
been
among
the
bushes
in
front
of
the
battery
and
along
the
Kámenka
streamlet
retreated
.
From
the
battery
they
could
be
seen
running
back
past
it
carrying
their
wounded
on
their
muskets
.
A
general
with
his
suite
came
to
the
battery
,
and
after
speaking
to
the
colonel
gave
Pierre
an
angry
look
and
went
away
again
having
ordered
the
infantry
supports
behind
the
battery
to
lie
down
,
so
as
to
be
less
exposed
to
fire
.
After
this
from
amid
the
ranks
of
infantry
to
the
right
of
the
battery
came
the
sound
of
a
drum
and
shouts
of
command
,
and
from
the
battery
one
saw
how
those
ranks
of
infantry
moved
forward
.
Pierre
looked
over
the
wall
of
the
trench
and
was
particularly
struck
by
a
pale
young
officer
who
,
letting
his
sword
hang
down
,
was
walking
backwards
and
kept
glancing
uneasily
around
.
The
ranks
of
the
infantry
disappeared
amid
the
smoke
but
their
long-drawn
shout
and
rapid
musketry
firing
could
still
be
heard
.
A
few
minutes
later
crowds
of
wounded
men
and
stretcher-bearers
came
back
from
that
direction
.
Projectiles
began
to
fall
still
more
frequently
in
the
battery
.
Several
men
were
lying
about
who
had
not
been
removed
.
Around
the
cannon
the
men
moved
still
more
briskly
and
busily
.
No
one
any
longer
took
notice
of
Pierre
.
Once
or
twice
he
was
shouted
at
for
being
in
the
way
.
The
senior
officer
moved
with
big
,
rapid
strides
from
one
gun
to
another
with
a
frowning
face
.
The
young
officer
,
with
his
face
still
more
flushed
,
commanded
the
men
more
scrupulously
than
ever
.
The
soldiers
handed
up
the
charges
,
turned
,
loaded
,
and
did
their
business
with
strained
smartness
.
They
gave
little
jumps
as
they
walked
,
as
though
they
were
on
springs
.
The
stormcloud
had
come
upon
them
,
and
in
every
face
the
fire
which
Pierre
had
watched
kindle
burned
up
brightly
.
Pierre
standing
beside
the
commanding
officer
.
The
young
officer
,
his
hand
to
his
shako
,
ran
up
to
his
superior
.
"
I
have
the
honor
to
report
,
sir
,
that
only
eight
rounds
are
left
.
Are
we
to
continue
firing
?
"
he
asked
.
