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corpses about with one! It would be better to shoot such rabble," and burst into loud laughter, so strange that Petya thought the French would immediately detect their disguise, and involuntarily took a step back from the campfire. No one replied a word to Dolokhovs laughter, and a French officer whom they could not see (he lay wrapped in a greatcoat) rose and whispered something to a companion. Dolokhov got up and called to the soldier who was holding their horses. "Will they bring our horses or not?" thought Petya, instinctively drawing nearer to Dolokhov. The horses were brought. "Good evening, gentlemen," said Dolokhov. Petya wished to say "Good night" but could not utter a word. The officers were whispering together. Dolokhov was a long time mounting his horse which would not stand still, then he rode out of the yard at a footpace. Petya rode beside him, longing to look round to see whether or not the French were running after them, but not daring to. Coming out onto the road Dolokhov did not ride back across the open country, but through the village. At one spot he stopped and listened. "Do you hear?" he asked. Petya recognized the sound of Russian voices and saw the dark figures of Russian prisoners round their campfires. When they had descended to the bridge Petya and Dolokhov rode past the sentinel, who without saying a word paced morosely up and down it, then they descended into the hollow where the Cossacks awaited them. "Well now, good-by. Tell Denisov, at the first shot at daybreak," said Dolokhov and was about to ride away, but Petya seized hold of him. "Really!" he cried, "you are such a hero! Oh, how fine, how splendid! How I love you!" "All right, all right!" said Dolokhov. But Petya did not let go of him and Dolokhov saw through the gloom that Petya was bending toward him and wanted to kiss him. Dolokhov kissed him, laughed, turned his horse, and vanished into the darkness. CHAPTER X Having returned to the watchmans hut, Petya found Denisov in the passage. He was awaiting Petyas return in a state of agitation, anxiety, and self-reproach for having let him go. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Yes, thank God!" he repeated, listening to Petyas rapturous account. "But, devil take you, I havent slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We can still get a nap before morning." "But... no," said Petya, "I dont want to sleep yet. Besides I know myself, if I fall asleep its finished. And then I am used to not sleeping before a battle." He sat awhile in the hut joyfully recalling the details of his expedition and vividly picturing to himself what would happen next day. Then, noticing that Denisov was asleep, he rose and went out of doors. It was still quite dark outside. The rain was over, but drops were still falling from the trees. Near the watchmans hut the black shapes of the Cossacks shanties and of horses tethered together could be seen. Behind the hut the dark shapes of the two wagons with their horses beside them were discernible, and in the hollow the dying campfire gleamed red. Not all the Cossacks and hussars were asleep; here and there, amid the sounds of falling drops and the munching of the horses near by, could be heard low voices which seemed to be whispering. Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons. Someone was snoring under them, and around them stood saddled horses munching their oats. In the dark Petya recognized his own horse, which he called "Karabakh" though it was of Ukranian breed, and went up to it. "Well, Karabakh! Well do some service tomorrow," said he, sniffing its nostrils and kissing it. "Why arent you asleep, sir?" said a Cossack who was sitting under a wagon. "No, ah... Likhachev--isnt that your name? Do you know I have only just come back! Weve been into the French camp." And Petya gave the Cossack a detailed account not only of his ride but also of his object, and why he considered it better to risk his life than to act "just anyhow." "Well, you should get some sleep now," said the Cossack. "No, I am used to this," said Petya. "I say, arent the flints in your pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Dont you want any? You can have some." The Cossack bent forward from under the wagon to get a closer look at Petya. "Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately," said Petya. "Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, and then theyre

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