is eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes,
giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as
a host welcomes an honored guest. He reported that his regiment had
been attacked by French cavalry and that, though the attack had been
repulsed, he had lost more than half his men. He said the attack
had been repulsed, employing this military term to describe what had
occurred to his regiment, but in reality he did not himself know what
had happened during that half-hour to the troops entrusted to him, and
could not say with certainty whether the attack had been repulsed or his
regiment had been broken up. All he knew was that at the commencement
of the action balls and shells began flying all over his regiment and
hitting men and that afterwards someone had shouted "Cavalry!" and our
men had begun firing. They were still firing, not at the cavalry which
had disappeared, but at French infantry who had come into the hollow and
were firing at our men. Prince Bagration bowed his head as a sign
that this was exactly what he had desired and expected. Turning to his
adjutant he ordered him to bring down the two battalions of the Sixth
Chasseurs whom they had just passed. Prince Andrew was struck by
the changed expression on Prince Bagration's face at this moment. It
expressed the concentrated and happy resolution you see on the face of
a man who on a hot day takes a final run before plunging into the water.
The dull, sleepy expression was no longer there, nor the affectation
of profound thought. The round, steady, hawk's eyes looked before him
eagerly and rather disdainfully, not resting on anything although his
movements were still slow and measured.

The commander of the regiment turned to Prince Bagration, entreating him
to go back as it was too dangerous to remain where they were. "Please,
your excellency, for God's sake!" he kept saying, glancing for support
at an officer of the suite who turned away from him. "There, you see!"
and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, singing, and hissing
continually around them. He spoke in the tone of entreaty and reproach
that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who has picked up an ax: "We are
used to it, but you, sir, will blister your hands." He spoke as if those
bullets could not kill him, and his half-closed eyes gave still more
persuasiveness to his words. The staff officer joined in the colonel's
appeals, but Bagration did not reply; he only gave an o