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作者: Leo Tolstoy

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Before him, on the right, Rostov saw the front lines of his
hussars and still farther ahead a dark line which he could not
see distinctly but took to be the enemy. Shots could be heard,
but some way off.
"Faster!" came the word of command, and Rostov felt Rook's flanks
drooping as he broke into a gallop.
Rostov anticipated his horse's movements and became more and more
elated. He had noticed a solitary tree ahead of him. This tree
had been in the middle of the line that had seemed so
terrible-and now he had crossed that line and not only was there
nothing terrible, but everything was becoming more and more happy
and animated. "Oh, how I will slash at him!" thought Rostov,
gripping the hilt of his saber.

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