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At that instant the sun began to hide behind the clouds, and

other stretchers came into view before Rostov. And the fear of

death and of the stretchers, and love of the sun and of life, all

merged into one feeling of sickening agitation.

"O Lord God! Thou who art in that heaven, save, forgive, and

protect me!" Rostov whispered.

The hussars ran back to the men who held their horses; their

voices sounded louder and calmer, the stretchers disappeared from

sight.

"Well, fwiend? So you've smelt powdah!" shouted Vaska Denisov

just above his ear.

"It's all over; but I am a coward-yes, a coward!" thought Rostov,

and sighing deeply he took Rook, his horse, which stood resting

one foot, from the orderly and began to mount.

"Was that grapeshot?" he asked Denisov.

"Yes and no mistake!" cried Denisov. "You worked like wegular

bwicks and it's nasty work! An attack's pleasant work! Hacking

away at the dogs! But this sort of thing is the very devil, with

them shooting at you like a target."