ight； others went on filling up their bags。 Seeing Alpatitch； Ferapontov turned to him。
“It’s all over with Russia！” he shouted。 “Alpatitch！ it’s all over！ I’ll set fire to it myself。 It’s over…”Ferapontov ran into the house。
An unbroken stream of soldiers was blocking up the whole street； so that Alpatitch could not pass and was obliged to wait。 Ferapontov’s wife and children were sitting in a cart too； waiting till it was possible to start。
It was by now quite dark。 There were stars in the sky； and from time to time the new moon shone through the veil of smoke。 Alpatitch’s and his hostess’s vehicles moved slowly along in the rows of soldiers and of other conveyances； and on the slope down to the Dnieper they had to halt altogether。 In a lane not far from the cross…roads where the traffic had come to a full stop； there were shops and a house on fire。 The fire was by now burning down。 The flame died down and was lost in black smoke； then flared up suddenly； lighting up with strange distinctness the faces of the crowd at the cross…roads。 Black figures were flitting about before the fire； and talk and shouts could be heard above the unceasing crackling of the flames。 Alpatitch； seeing that it would be some time before his gig could move forward； got out and went back to the lane to look at the fire。 Soldiers were scurrying to and fro before the fire； and Alpatitch saw two soldiers with a man in a frieze coat dragging burning beams from the fire across the street to a house near； while others carried armfuls of hay。
Alpatitch joined a great crowd of people standing before a high corn granary in full blaze。 The walls were all in flames； the back wall had fallen in； the plank roof was breaking down； and the beams were glowing。 The crowd were evidently watching for the moment when the roof would fall in。 Alpatitch too waited to see it。
“Alpatitch！” the old man suddenly heard a familiar voice calling to him。
“Mercy on us； your excellency；” answered Alpatitch； instantly recognising the voice of his young master。
Prince Andrey； wearing a cape； and mounted on a black horse； was in the crowd； and looking at Alpatitch。
“How did you come here？” he asked。
“Your…your excellency！” Alpatitch articulated； and he broke into sobs。…“Your； your…is it all over with us； really？ Master…”
“How is it you are here？” repeated Prince Andrey。 The flames flared up at that instant； and Alpatitch saw in the bright light his young master’s pale and worn face。 Alpatitch told him how he had been sent to the town and had difficulty in getting away。
“What do you say； your excellency； is it all over with us？” he asked again。
Prince Andrey； making no reply； took out his note…book； and raising his knee； scribbled in pencil on a leaf he had torn out。 He wrote to his sister：
“Smolensk has surrendered；” he wrote。 “Bleak Hills will be occupied by the enemy within a week。 Set off at once for Moscow。 Let me know at once when you start； send a messenger to Usvyazh。”
Scribbling these words； and giving Alpatitch the paper； he gave him further directions about sending off the old prince； the princess and his son with his tutor； and how and where to let him hear； as soon as they had gone。 Before he had finished giving those instructions； a staff officer； followed by his suite； galloped up to him。
“You a colonel；” shouted the staff officer； in a voice Prince Andrey knew speaking with a German accent。 “Houses are being set on fire in your presence and you stand still！ What’s the meaning of it？ You will answer for it；” shouted Berg； who was now assistant to the head of the staff of the assistant of the chief officer of the staff of the commander of the left flank of the infantry of the first army； a very agreeable and prominent position； so Berg said。
Prince Andrey stared at him； and without making any reply went on addressing Alpatitch。
“Tell them then that I shall wait for an answer till the 10th； and if I don’t receive news by the 10th； that they have all gone away； I shall be obliged to throw up everything and go myself to Bleak Hills。”
“Prince；” said Berg； recognising Prince Andrey； “I only speak because it’s my duty to carry out my instructions； because I always do exactly carry out…You must please excuse me；” Berg tried to apologise。
There was a crash in the fire。 The flames subsided for an instant； black clouds of smoke rolled under the roof。 There was another fearful crash； and the falling of some enormous weight。
“Ooo…roo！” the crowd yelled； as the ceiling of the granary fell in； and a smell of baked cakes rose from the burning wheat。 The flames flared up again； and lighted up the delighted and careworn faces of the crowd around it。
The man in the frieze coat； brandishing his arms in the air； was shouting：
“First…rate！ Now she’s started！ First…rate； lads！…” “That’s the owner himself；” murmured voices。
“So you tell them everything I have told you；” said Prince Andrey； addressing Alpatitch。 And without bestowing a word on Berg； who stood mute beside him； he put spurs to his horse and rode down the lane。
Chapter 5
FROM SMOLENSK the troops continued to retreat。 The enemy followed them。 On the 10th of August the regiment of which Prince Andrey was in command was marching along the high…road past the avenue that led to Bleak Hills。 The heat and drought had lasted more than three weeks。 Every day curly clouds passed over the sky； rarely covering the sun； but towards evening the sky cleared again and the sun set in a glowing； red mist。 But a heavy dew refreshed the earth at night。 The wheat left in the fields was burnt up and dropping out of the ear。 The marshes were dry。 The cattle lowed from hunger； finding nothing to graze on in the sunbaked meadows。 Only at night in the woods； as long as the dew lasted； it was cool。 But on the road； on the high…road along which the troops marched； there was no coolness even at night； not even where the road passed through the woods。 The dew was imperceptible on the sandy dust of the road； more than a foot deep。 As soon as it was daylight； the soldiers began to move。 The transports and artillery moved noiselessly； buried up to their axles； and the infantry sank to their ankles in the soft； stifling； burning dust； that never got cool even at night。 The sandy dust clung to their legs and to the wheels； rose in a cloud over their heads； and got into the eyes and hair and nostrils and lungs of the men and beasts that moved along the road。 The higher the sun rose； the higher rose the cloud of dust； and through the fine； burning dust the sun in the cloudless sky looked like a purple ball； at which one could gaze with undazzled eyes。 There was no wind； and the men gasped for breath in the stagnant atmosphere。 They marched with handkerchiefs tied over their mouths and noses。 When they reached the villages； there was a rush for the wells。 They fought over the water and drank it down to the mud。
Prince Andrey was in command of a regiment； and the management of the regiment； the welfare of his men； the necessity of receiving and giving orders occupied his mind。 The burning and abandonment of Smolensk made an epoch in Prince Andrey’s life。 A new feeling of intense hatred of the enemy made him forget his own sorrow。 He was devoted heart and soul to the interests of his regiment； he was careful of the welfare of his men and his officers； and cordial in his manner with them。 They called him in the regiment “our prince；” were proud of him； and loved him。 But he was kind and gentle only with his own men； with Timohin； and others like him； people quite new to him； belonging to a different world； people who could have no notion of his past。 As soon as he was brought into contact with any of his old acquaintances； any of the staff officers； he bristled up again at once； and was vindictive； ironical； and contemptuous。 Everything associated by memories with the past was repulsive to him； and so； in his relations with that old world； he confined himself to trying to do his duty； and not to be unfair。
Prince Andrey； in fact； saw everything in the darkest； gloomiest light； especially after Smolensk； which he considered could and should have been defended； had been abandoned； on the 6th of August； and his invalid father had been forced； as he supposed； to flee to Moscow； leaving Bleak Hills； the house that he had so loved； that he had designed and settled with his peasants； to be plundered。 But in spite of that； thanks to his position； Prince Andrey had another subject to think of； quite apart from all general questions； his regiment。 On the 10th of August； the column of which his regiment formed part reached the turning leading off to Bleak Hills。 Two days before Prince Andrey had received the news that his father； his son； and his sister had gone away to Moscow。 Though there was nothing for Prince Andrey to do at Bleak Hills； he decided； with characteristic desire to aggravate his own sufferings； that he must ride over there。
He ordered his horse to be saddled； and turned off from the main line of march towards his father’s house； where he had been born and had spent his childhood。 As he rode by the pond； where there always used to be dozens of peasant women gossiping； rinsing their linen； or beating it with washing bats； Prince Andrey noticed that there was no one by the pond； and that the platform where they used to stand had been torn away； and was floating sideways in the middle of the pond； half under water。 Prince Andrey rode up to the keeper’s lodge。 There was no one to be seen at the stone gates and the door was open。 The paths of the garden were already overgrown with weeds； and cattle and horses were straying about the English park。 Prince Andrey rode up to the conservatory： the panes were smashed； and some of the trees in tubs were broken； others quite dried up。 He called Taras； the gardener。 No one answered。 Going round the conservatory on the terrace； he saw that the paling…fence was all broken down； and branches of the plum…trees had been pulled off with the fruit。 An old peasant； whom Prince Andrey used to see in his childhood at the gate； was sitting on the green garden seat plaiting bast shoes。
He was deaf； and did not hear Prince Andrey’s approach。 He was sitting on t