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could to meet their wishes. To Sรณnya he wrote separately.

โ€œAdored friend of my soul!โ€ he wrote. โ€œNothing but honor could keep me from returning to the country. But now, at the commencement of the campaign, I should feel dishonored, not only in my comradesโ€™ eyes but in my own, if I preferred my own happiness to my love and duty to the Fatherland. But this shall be our last separation. Believe me, directly the war is over, if I am still alive and still loved by you, I will throw up everything and fly to you, to press you forever to my ardent breast.โ€

It was, in fact, only the commencement of the campaign that prevented Rostรณv from returning home as he had promised and marrying Sรณnya. The autumn in Otrรกdnoe with the hunting, and the winter with the Christmas holidays and Sรณnyaโ€™s love, had opened out to him a vista of tranquil rural joys and peace such as he had never known before, and which now allured him. โ€œA splendid wife, children, a good pack of hounds, a dozen leashes of smart borzois, agriculture, neighbors, service by electionโ โ€Šโ โ€ฆโ€ thought he. But now the campaign was beginning, and he had to remain with his regiment. And since it had to be so, Nikolรกy Rostรณv, as was natural to him, felt contented with the life he led in the regiment and was able to find pleasure in that life.

On his return from his furlough Nikolรกy, having been joyfully welcomed by his comrades, was sent to obtain remounts and brought back from the Ukraine excellent horses which pleased him and earned him commendation from his commanders. During his absence he had been promoted captain, and when the regiment was put on war footing with an increase in numbers, he was again allotted his old squadron.

The campaign began, the regiment was moved into Poland on double pay, new officers arrived, new men and horses, and above all everybody was infected with the merrily excited mood that goes with the commencement of a war, and Rostรณv, conscious of his advantageous position in the regiment, devoted himself entirely to the pleasures and interests of military service, though he knew that sooner or later he would have to relinquish them.

The troops retired from Vรญlna for various complicated reasons of state, political and strategic. Each step of the retreat was accompanied by a complicated interplay of interests, arguments, and passions at headquarters. For the Pรกvlograd hussars, however, the whole of this retreat during the finest period of summer and with sufficient supplies was a very simple and agreeable business.

It was only at headquarters that there was depression, uneasiness, and intriguing; in the body of the army they did not ask themselves where they were going or why. If they regretted having to retreat, it was only because they had to leave billets they had grown accustomed to, or some pretty young Polish lady. If the thought that things looked bad chanced to enter anyoneโ€™s head, he tried to be as cheerful as befits a good soldier and not to think of the general trend of affairs, but only of the task nearest to hand. First they camped gaily before Vรญlna, making acquaintance with the Polish landowners, preparing for reviews and being reviewed by the Emperor and other high commanders. Then came an order to retreat to Sventsyรกni and destroy any provisions they could not carry away with them. Sventsyรกni was remembered by the hussars only as the drunken camp, a name the whole army gave to their encampment there, and because many complaints were made against the troops, who, taking advantage of the order to collect provisions, took also horses, carriages, and carpets from the Polish proprietors. Rostรณv remembered Sventsyรกni, because on the first day of their arrival at that small town he changed his sergeant major and was unable to manage all the drunken men of his squadron who, unknown to him, had appropriated five barrels of old beer. From Sventsyรกni they retired farther and farther to Drissa, and thence again beyond Drissa, drawing near to the frontier of Russia proper.

On the thirteenth of July the Pรกvlograds took part in a serious action for the first time.

On the twelfth of July, on the eve of that action, there was a heavy storm of rain and hail. In general, the summer of 1812 was remarkable for its storms.

The two Pรกvlograd squadrons were bivouacking on a field of rye, which was already in ear but had been completely trodden down by cattle and horses. The rain was descending in torrents, and Rostรณv, with a young officer named Ilyรญn, his protรฉgรฉ, was sitting in a hastily constructed shelter. An officer of their regiment, with long mustaches extending onto his cheeks, who after riding to the staff had been overtaken by the rain, entered Rostรณvโ€™s shelter.

โ€œI have come from the staff, Count. Have you heard of Raรฉvskiโ€™s exploit?โ€

And the officer gave them details of the Saltรกnov battle, which he had heard at the staff.

Rostรณv, smoking his pipe and turning his head about as the water trickled down his neck, listened inattentively, with an occasional glance at Ilyรญn, who was pressing close to him. This officer, a lad of sixteen who had recently joined the regiment, was now in the same relation to Nikolรกy that Nikolรกy had been to Denรญsov seven years before. Ilyรญn tried to imitate Rostรณv in everything and adored him as a girl might have done.

Zdrzhinski, the officer with the long mustache, spoke grandiloquently of the Saltรกnov dam being โ€œa Russian Thermopylae,โ€ and of how a deed worthy of antiquity had been performed by General Raรฉvski. He recounted how Raรฉvski had led his two sons onto the dam under terrific fire and had charged with them beside him. Rostรณv heard the story and not only said nothing to encourage Zdrzhinskiโ€™s enthusiasm but, on the contrary, looked like a man ashamed of what he was hearing, though with no intention of contradicting it. Since the campaigns of Austerlitz and of

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