“This is a mob of scoundrels and not an army,” he was thinking as he went up to the window of the first house, when a familiar voice called him by
He turned round. Nesvítski’s handsome face looked out of the little window. Nesvítski, moving his moist lips as he chewed something, and flourishing his arm, called him to enter.
“Bolkónski! Bolkónski! … Don’t you hear? Eh? Come quick …” he shouted.
Entering the house, Prince Andréy saw Nesvítski and another adjutant having something to eat. They hastily turned round to him asking if he had any news. On their familiar faces he read agitation and alarm. This was particularly noticeable on Nesvítski’s usually laughing countenance.
“Where is the commander in chief?” asked Bolkónski.
“Here, in that house,” answered the adjutant.
“Well, is it true that