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Still the cannon balls continued regularly to whistle and flop

onto the ice and into the water and oftenest of all among the

crowd that covered the dam, the pond, and the bank.

CHAPTER XIX

On the Pratzen Heights, where he had fallen with the flagstaff in

his hand, lay Prince Andrew Bolkonski bleeding profusely and

unconsciously uttering a gentle, piteous, and childlike moan.

Toward evening he ceased moaning and became quite still. He did

not know how long his unconsciousness lasted. Suddenly he again

felt that he was alive and suffering from a burning, lacerating

pain in his head.

"Where is it, that lofty sky that I did not know till now, but

saw today?" was his first thought. "And I did not know this

suffering either," he thought. "Yes, I did not know anything,

anything at all till now. But where am I?"