“Do you know, my dear boy,” said Bilibin, coming into his room, “I have been thinking about you. What are you going for?” And in support of the irrefutability of his arguments on the subject, all the creases ran off his face.

Prince Andrey looked inquiringly at him and made no reply.

“Why are you going? I know you consider that it’s your duty to gallop off to the army now that the army is in danger. I understand that, my boy, it’s heroism.”

“Nothing of the kind,” said Prince Andrey.

“But you are un philosophe, be one fully, look at things from the other side, and you will see that it is your duty, on the contrary, to take care of yourself. Leave that to others who are no good for anything else … You have received no orders to go back, and you are not dismissed from here, so that you can remain and go with us, where our ill-luck takes us. They say they are going to Olmätz. And Olmätz is a very charming town. And we can travel there comfortably together in my carriage.”

“That’s enough joking, Bilibin,” said Bolkonsky.

“I am speaking to you sincerely as a friend. Consider where are you going and with what object now, when you can stay here. You have two alternatives before you” (he puckered up the skin of his left temple) “either you won’t reach the army before peace will be concluded, or you will share the defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov’s whole army.” And Bilibin let his brow go smooth again, feeling that his dilemma was beyond attack.

“That I can’t enter into,” said Prince Andrey coldly, but he thought: “I am going to save the army.”

“My dear fellow, you are a hero,” said Bilibin