t up in Paris, was rich, and passionately
fond of the French, and almost every day of the stay at Tilsit, French
officers of the Guard and from French headquarters were dining and
lunching with him and Boris.

On the evening of the twenty-fourth of June, Count Zhilinski arranged a
supper for his French friends. The guest of honor was an aide-de-camp of
Napoleon's, there were also several French officers of the Guard, and
a page of Napoleon's, a young lad of an old aristocratic French
family. That same day, Rostov, profiting by the darkness to avoid being
recognized in civilian dress, came to Tilsit and went to the lodging
occupied by Boris and Zhilinski.

Rostov, in common with the whole army from which he came, was far
from having experienced the change of feeling toward Napoleon and the
French--who from being foes had suddenly become friends--that had taken
place at headquarters and in Boris. In the army, Bonaparte and the
French were still regarded with mingled feelings of anger, contempt,
and fear. Only recently, talking with one of Platov's Cossack officers,
Rostov had argued that if Napoleon were taken prisoner he would be
treated not as a sovereign, but as a criminal. Quite lately, happening
to meet a wounded French colonel on the road, Rostov had maintained with
heat that peace was impossible between a legitimate sovereign and the
criminal Bonaparte. Rostov was therefore unpleasantly struck by the
presence of French officers in Boris' lodging, dressed in uniforms he
had been accustomed to see from quite a different point of view from
the outposts of the flank. As soon as he noticed a French officer, who
thrust his head out of the door, that warlike feeling of hostility which
he always experienced at the sight of the enemy suddenly seized him. He
stopped at the threshold and asked in Russian whether Drubetskoy lived
there. Boris, hearing a strange voice in the anteroom, came out to meet
him. An expression of annoyance showed itself for a moment on his face
on first recognizing Rostov.

"Ah, it's you? Very glad, very glad to see you," he said, however,
coming toward him with a smile. But Rostov had noticed his first
impulse.

"I've come at a bad time I think. I should not have come, but I have
business," he said coldly.

"No, I only wonder how you managed to get away from your regiment. Dans
un moment je suis a vous," * he said, answering someone who called him.

* "In a minute I shall be at your disp