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In the morning all that was left of the night mist on the heights

was a hoar frost now turning to dew, but in the valleys it still

lay like a milk-white sea. Nothing was visible in the valley to

the left into which our troops had descended and from whence came

the sounds of firing. Above the heights was the dark clear sky,

and to the right the vast orb of the sun. In front, far off on

the farther shore of that sea of mist, some wooded hills were

discernible, and it was there the enemy probably was, for

something could be descried. On the right the Guards were

entering the misty region with a sound of hoofs and wheels and

now and then a gleam of bayonets; to the left beyond the village

similar masses of cavalry came up and disappeared in the sea of

mist. In front and behind moved infantry. The commander in chief

was standing at the end of the village letting the troops pass by

him. That morning Kutuzov seemed worn and irritable.