rd him and evidently
expecting him to bow or to step out of his way. Prince Andrew did
neither: a look of animosity appeared on his face and the other turned
away and went down the side of the corridor.

"Who was that?" asked Boris.

"He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men--the
Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartoryski.... It is such men
as he who decide the fate of nations," added Bolkonski with a sigh he
could not suppress, as they passed out of the palace.

Next day, the army began its campaign, and up to the very battle of
Austerlitz, Boris was unable to see either Prince Andrew or Dolgorukov
again and remained for a while with the Ismaylov regiment.

CHAPTER X

At dawn on the sixteenth of November, Denisov's squadron, in which
Nicholas Rostov served and which was in Prince Bagration's detachment,
moved from the place where it had spent the night, advancing into action
as arranged, and after going behind other columns for about two thirds
of a mile was stopped on the highroad. Rostov saw the Cossacks and then
the first and second squadrons of hussars and infantry battalions
and artillery pass by and go forward and then Generals Bagration and
Dolgorukov ride past with their adjutants. All the fear before action
which he had experienced as previously, all the inner struggle to
conquer that fear, all his dreams of distinguishing himself as a true
hussar in this battle, had been wasted. Their squadron remained in
reserve and Nicholas Rostov spent that day in a dull and wretched mood.
At nine in the morning, he heard firing in front and shouts of hurrah,
and saw wounded being brought back (there were not many of them), and
at last he saw how a whole detachment of French cavalry was brought in,
convoyed by a sotnya of Cossacks. Evidently the affair was over and,
though not big, had been a successful engagement. The men and officers
returning spoke of a brilliant victory, of the occupation of the town of
Wischau and the capture of a whole French squadron. The day was bright
and sunny after a sharp night frost, and the cheerful glitter of that
autumn day was in keeping with the news of victory which was conveyed,
not only by the tales of those who had taken part in it, but also by
the joyful expression on the faces of soldiers, officers, generals, and
adjutants, as they passed Rostov going or coming. And Nicholas, who had
vainly suffered all the dread that precedes a bat