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"I saw him myself," replied the man with a self-confident smile

of derision. "I ought to know the Emperor by now, after the times

I've seen him in Petersburg. I saw him just as I see you....

There he sat in the carriage as pale as anything. How they made

the four black horses fly! Gracious me, they did rattle past!

It's time I knew the Imperial horses and Ilya Ivanych. I don't

think Ilya drives anyone except the Tsar!"

Rostov let go of the horse and was about to ride on, when a

wounded officer passing by addressed him:

"Who is it you want?" he asked. "The commander in chief? He was

killed by a cannon ball-struck in the breast before our

regiment."

"Not killed-wounded!" another officer corrected him.

"Who? Kutuzov?" asked Rostov.

"Not Kutuzov, but what's his name-well, never mind... there are

not many left alive. Go that way, to that village, all the

commanders are there," said the officer, pointing to the village

of Hosjeradek, and he walked on.