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- Стр. 957/1273
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All
eyes
were
fixed
on
him
.
He
looked
at
the
crowd
,
and
rendered
more
hopeful
by
the
expression
he
read
on
the
faces
there
,
he
smiled
sadly
and
timidly
,
and
lowering
his
head
shifted
his
feet
on
the
step
.
"
He
has
betrayed
his
Tsar
and
his
country
,
he
has
gone
over
to
Bonaparte
.
He
alone
of
all
the
Russians
has
disgraced
the
Russian
name
,
he
has
caused
Moscow
to
perish
,
"
said
Rostopchín
in
a
sharp
,
even
voice
,
but
suddenly
he
glanced
down
at
Vereshchágin
who
continued
to
stand
in
the
same
submissive
attitude
.
As
if
inflamed
by
the
sight
,
he
raised
his
arm
and
addressed
the
people
,
almost
shouting
:
"
Deal
with
him
as
you
think
fit
!
I
hand
him
over
to
you
.
"
The
crowd
remained
silent
and
only
pressed
closer
and
closer
to
one
another
.
To
keep
one
another
back
,
to
breathe
in
that
stifling
atmosphere
,
to
be
unable
to
stir
,
and
to
await
something
unknown
,
uncomprehended
,
and
terrible
,
was
becoming
unbearable
.
Those
standing
in
front
,
who
had
seen
and
heard
what
had
taken
place
before
them
,
all
stood
with
wide-open
eyes
and
mouths
,
straining
with
all
their
strength
,
and
held
back
the
crowd
that
was
pushing
behind
them
.
"
Beat
him
!
.
.
.
Let
the
traitor
perish
and
not
disgrace
the
Russian
name
!
"
shouted
Rostopchín
.
"
Cut
him
down
.
I
command
it
.
"
Hearing
not
so
much
the
words
as
the
angry
tone
of
Rostopchín
's
voice
,
the
crowd
moaned
and
heaved
forward
,
but
again
paused
.
"
Count
!
"
exclaimed
the
timid
yet
theatrical
voice
of
Vereshchágin
in
the
midst
of
the
momentary
silence
that
ensued
,
"
Count
!
One
God
is
above
us
both
...
"
He
lifted
his
head
and
again
the
thick
vein
in
his
thin
neck
filled
with
blood
and
the
color
rapidly
came
and
went
in
his
face
.
He
did
not
finish
what
he
wished
to
say
.
"
Cut
him
down
!
I
command
it
...
"
shouted
Rostopchín
,
suddenly
growing
pale
like
Vereshchágin
.
