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Only when approaching Bagration did Rostov let his horse gallop

again, and with his hand at the salute rode up to the general.

Dolgorukov was still insisting that the French had retreated and

had only lit fires to deceive us.

"What does that prove?" he was saying as Rostov rode up. "They

might retreat and leave the pickets."

"It's plain that they have not all gone yet, Prince," said

Bagration. "Wait till tomorrow morning, we'll find out everything

tomorrow."

"The picket is still on the hill, your excellency, just where it

was in the evening," reported Rostov, stooping forward with his

hand at the salute and unable to repress the smile of delight

induced by his ride and especially by the sound of the bullets.

"Very good, very good," said Bagration. "Thank you, officer."

"Your excellency," said Rostov, "may I ask a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow our squadron is to be in reserve. May I ask to be

attached to the first squadron?"

"What's your name?"

"Count Rostov."