v's adjutant,
came up to Pierre. "Ah, Kaysarov!" said Boris, addressing him with an
unembarrassed smile, "I was just trying to explain our position to
the count. It is amazing how his Serene Highness could so foresee the
intentions of the French!"

"You mean the left flank?" asked Kaysarov.

"Yes, exactly; the left flank is now extremely strong."

Though Kutuzov had dismissed all unnecessary men from the staff, Boris
had contrived to remain at headquarters after the changes. He had
established himself with Count Bennigsen, who, like all on whom Boris
had been in attendance, considered young Prince Drubetskoy an invaluable
man.

In the higher command there were two sharply defined parties: Kutuzov's
party and that of Bennigsen, the chief of staff. Boris belonged to the
latter and no one else, while showing servile respect to Kutuzov, could
so create an impression that the old fellow was not much good and that
Bennigsen managed everything. Now the decisive moment of battle had come
when Kutuzov would be destroyed and the power pass to Bennigsen, or even
if Kutuzov won the battle it would be felt that everything was done by
Bennigsen. In any case many great rewards would have to be given for
tomorrow's action, and new men would come to the front. So Boris was
full of nervous vivacity all day.

After Kaysarov, others whom Pierre knew came up to him, and he had not
time to reply to all the questions about Moscow that were showered upon
him, or to listen to all that was told him. The faces all expressed
animation and apprehension, but it seemed to Pierre that the cause of
the excitement shown in some of these faces lay chiefly in questions
of personal success; his mind, however, was occupied by the different
expression he saw on other faces--an expression that spoke not of
personal matters but of the universal questions of life and death.
Kutuzov noticed Pierre's figure and the group gathered round him.

"Call him to me," said Kutuzov.

An adjutant told Pierre of his Serene Highness' wish, and Pierre went
toward Kutuzov's bench. But a militiaman got there before him. It was
Dolokhov.

"How did that fellow get here?" asked Pierre.

"He's a creature that wriggles in anywhere!" was the answer. "He
has been degraded, you know. Now he wants to bob up again. He's been
proposing some scheme or other and has crawled into the enemy's picket
line at night.... He's a brave fellow."

Pierre took off his hat and bowed respect