When Scherbínin came galloping from the left flank with news that the French had captured the flèches and the village of Semënovsk, Kutúzov, guessing by the sounds of the battle and by Scherbínin’s looks that the news was bad, rose as if to stretch his legs and, taking Scherbínin’s arm, led him aside.
“Go, my dear fellow,” he said to Ermólov, “and see whether something can’t be done.”
Kutúzov was in Górki, near the center of the Russian position. The attack directed by Napoleon against our left flank had been several times repulsed. In the center the French had not got beyond Borodinó, and on their left flank Uvárov’s cavalry had put the French to flight.
Toward three o’clock the French attacks ceased. On the faces of all who came from the field of battle, and of those who stood around him, Kutúzov noticed an expression of extreme tension. He was satisfied with the day’s success—a success exceeding his expectations, but