Kutuzov concluded this period with a heavy sigh and looked intently and genially at the member of the Hofkriegsrath.

“But you know, your excellency, the sage precept to prepare for the worst,” said the Austrian general, obviously wishing to have done with jests and to come to business. He could not help glancing round at the adjutant.

“Excuse me, general,” Kutuzov interrupted him, and he, too, turned to Prince Andrey. “Here, my dear boy, get all the reports from our scouts from Kozlovsky. Here are two letters from Count Nostits, here is a letter from his Highness the Archduke Ferdinand, here is another,” he said, giving him several papers. “And of all this make out clearly in French a memorandum showing all the information we have had of the movements of the Austrian Army. Well, do so, and then show it to his excellency.”

Prince Andrey bowed in token of understanding from the first word not merely what had been said, but also what Kutuzov would have liked to have said to him. He gathered up the papers, and making a comprehensive bow, stepped softly over the carpet and went out into the reception-room.

Although so short a time had passed since Prince Andrey had left Russia, he had changed greatly during that time. In the expression of his face, in his gestures, in his gait, there was scarcely a trace to be seen now of his former affectation, ennui, and indolence. He had the air of a man who has not time to think of the impression he is making on others, and is absorbed in work, both agreeable and interesting. His face showed more satisfaction with himself and those around him. His smile and his glance were more light-hearted and attractive.

Kutuzov, whom he had overtaken in Poland, had received him very cordially, had promised not to forget him, had marked him out among the other adjutants, had taken him with him to Vienna and given him the more serious commissions. From Vienna, Kutuzov had written to his old comrade, Prince Andrey’s father.

“Your son,” he wrote, “gives promise of becoming an officer, who will make his name by his industry, firmness, and conscientiousness. I consider myself lucky to have such an assistant at hand.”

On Kutuzov’s staff, among his fellow-officers, and in the army generally, Prince Andrey had, as he had had in Petersburg society, two quite opposite reputations. Some, the minority, regarded Prince Andrey as a being different from themselves and from all other men, expected great things of him, listened to him, were enthusiastic in his praise, and imitated him, and with such people Prince Andrey was frank and agreeable. Others, the majority, did not like Prince Andrey, and regarded him as a sulky, cold, and disagreeable person. But with the latter class, too, Prince Andrey knew how to behave so that he was respected and even feared by them.

Coming out of Kutuzov’s room into the reception-room, Prince Andrey went in with his papers to his comrade, the adjutant on duty, Kozlovsky, who was sitting in the window with a book.

“What is it, prince?” queried Kozlovsky.

“I am told to make a note of the reason why we are not moving forward.”

“And why aren’t we?”

Prince Andrey shrugged his shoulders

“No news from Mack?” asked Kozlovsky.


“If it were true that he had been beaten, news would have come.”

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