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Not two minutes had passed before Prince Vasili with head erect

majestically entered the room. He was wearing his long coat with

three stars on his breast. He seemed to have grown thinner since

the morning; his eyes seemed larger than usual when he glanced

round and noticed Pierre. He went up to him, took his hand (a

thing he never used to do), and drew it downwards as if wishing

to ascertain whether it was firmly fixed on.

"Courage, courage, my friend! He has asked to see you. That is

well!" and he turned to go.

But Pierre thought it necessary to ask: "How is..." and

hesitated, not knowing whether it would be proper to call the

dying man "the count," yet ashamed to call him "father."

"He had another stroke about half an hour ago. Courage, my

friend..."