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Sayfa 580 / 3800

Yazar: Leo Tolstoy

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From all sides were heard the footsteps and talk of the infantry,
who were walking, driving past, and settling down all around. The
sound of voices, the tramping feet, the horses' hoofs moving in
mud, the crackling of wood fires near and afar, merged into one
tremulous rumble.
It was no longer, as before, a dark, unseen river flowing through
the gloom, but a dark sea swelling and gradually subsiding after
a storm. Rostov looked at and listened listlessly to what passed
before and around him. An infantryman came to the fire, squatted
on his heels, held his hands to the blaze, and turned away his
face.
"You don't mind your honor?" he asked Tushin. "I've lost my
company, your honor. I don't know where... such bad luck!"

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