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"Glad to do our best, your ex'len-lency!" came a confused shout

from the ranks. A morose soldier marching on the left turned his

eyes on Bagration as he shouted, with an expression that seemed

to say: "We know that ourselves!" Another, without looking round,

as though fearing to relax, shouted with his mouth wide open and

passed on.

The order was given to halt and down knapsacks.

Bagration rode round the ranks that had marched past him and

dismounted. He gave the reins to a Cossack, took off and handed

over his felt coat, stretched his legs, and set his cap straight.

The head of the French column, with its officers leading,

appeared from below the hill.

"Forward, with God!" said Bagration, in a resolute, sonorous

voice, turning for a moment to the front line, and slightly

swinging his arms, he went forward uneasily over the rough field

with the awkward gait of a cavalryman. Prince Andrew felt that an

invisible power was leading him forward, and experienced great

happiness.