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Rostov did not know or remember how he ran to his place and

mounted. Instantly his regret at not having been in action and

his dejected mood amid people of whom he was weary had gone,

instantly every thought of himself had vanished. He was filled

with happiness at his nearness to the Emperor. He felt that this

nearness by itself made up to him for the day he had lost. He was

happy as a lover when the longed-for moment of meeting arrives.

Not daring to look round and without looking round, he was

ecstatically conscious of his approach. He felt it not only from

the sound of the hoofs of the approaching cavalcade, but because

as he drew near everything grew brighter, more joyful, more

significant, and more festive around him. Nearer and nearer to

Rostov came that sun shedding beams of mild and majestic light

around, and already he felt himself enveloped in those beams, he

heard his voice, that kindly, calm, and majestic voice that was

yet so simple!