with
you," said Petya shyly.

"But for you and me, old fellow, it's time to drop these amenities,"
continued Dolokhov, as if he found particular pleasure in speaking of
this subject which irritated Denisov. "Now, why have you kept this lad?"
he went on, swaying his head. "Because you are sorry for him! Don't we
know those 'receipts' of yours? You send a hundred men away, and thirty
get there. The rest either starve or get killed. So isn't it all the
same not to send them?"

The esaul, screwing up his light-colored eyes, nodded approvingly.

"That's not the point. I'm not going to discuss the matter. I do not
wish to take it on my conscience. You say they'll die. All wight. Only
not by my fault!"

Dolokhov began laughing.

"Who has told them not to capture me these twenty times over? But if
they did catch me they'd string me up to an aspen tree, and with all
your chivalry just the same." He paused. "However, we must get to work.
Tell the Cossack to fetch my kit. I have two French uniforms in it.
Well, are you coming with me?" he asked Petya.

"I? Yes, yes, certainly!" cried Petya, blushing almost to tears and
glancing at Denisov.

While Dolokhov had been disputing with Denisov what should be done with
prisoners, Petya had once more felt awkward and restless; but again he
had no time to grasp fully what they were talking about. "If grown-up,
distinguished men think so, it must be necessary and right," thought he.
"But above all Denisov must not dare to imagine that I'll obey him and
that he can order me about. I will certainly go to the French camp with
Dolokhov. If he can, so can I!"

And to all Denisov's persuasions, Petya replied that he too was
accustomed to do everything accurately and not just anyhow, and that he
never considered personal danger.

"For you'll admit that if we don't know for sure how many of them there
are... hundreds of lives may depend on it, while there are only two
of us. Besides, I want to go very much and certainly will go, so don't
hinder me," said he. "It will only make things worse..."

CHAPTER IX

Having put on French greatcoats and shakos, Petya and Dolokhov rode to
the clearing from which Denisov had reconnoitered the French camp,
and emerging from the forest in pitch darkness they descended into the
hollow. On reaching the bottom, Dolokhov told the Cossacks accompanying
him to await him there and rode on at a quick trot along the road to the
bridge. Petya, his h