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Meanwhile Nesvitski, Zherkov, and the officer of the suite were

standing together out of range of the shots, watching, now the

small group of men with yellow shakos, dark-green jackets braided

with cord, and blue riding breeches, who were swarming near the

bridge, and then at what was approaching in the distance from the

opposite side-the blue uniforms and groups with horses, easily

recognizable as artillery.

"Will they burn the bridge or not? Who'll get there first? Will

they get there and fire the bridge or will the French get within

grapeshot range and wipe them out?" These were the questions each

man of the troops on the high ground above the bridge

involuntarily asked himself with a sinking heart-watching the

bridge and the hussars in the bright evening light and the blue

tunics advancing from the other side with their bayonets and

guns.

"Ugh. The hussars will get it hot!" said Nesvitski; "they are

within grapeshot range now."