Book Eleven: 1812 - Chapter XXX

by Leo Tolstoy

　　The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September waswatched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by theretreating troops, with many different feelings.

　　The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles fromMoscow. They had started so late on the first of September, the roadhad been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had beenforgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decidedto spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The nextmorning they woke late and were again delayed so often that theyonly got as far as Great Mytishchi. At ten o'clock that evening theRostov family and the wounded traveling with them were all distributedin the yards and huts of that large village. The Rostovs' servants andcoachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending totheir masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into theporches.

　　In a neighboring hut lay Raevski's adjutant with a fracturedwrist. The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly andpiteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of theautumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as theRostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes onaccount of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hutsimply to be farther away from the wounded man.

　　In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, abovethe high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glowof another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knewthat it was Little Mytishchi burning- set on fire by Mamonov'sCossacks.

　　"But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked anorderly.

　　All turned their attention to the glow.

　　"But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov'sCossacks."

　　"But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away."

　　"Look, it must be in Moscow!"

　　Two of the gazers went round to the other side of the coach andsat down on its steps.

　　"It's more to the left, why, Little Mytishchi is over there, andthis is right on the other side."

　　Several men joined the first two.

　　"See how it's flaring," said one. "That's a fire in Moscow: eitherin the Sushchevski or the Rogozhski quarter."

　　No one replied to this remark and for some time they all gazedsilently at the spreading flames of the second fire in the distance.

　　Old Daniel Terentich, the count's valet (as he was called), cameup to the group and shouted at Mishka.

　　"What are you staring at, you good-for-nothing?... The count will becalling and there's nobody there; go and gather the clothes together."

　　"I only ran out to get some water," said Mishka.

　　"But what do you think, Daniel Terentich? Doesn't it look as if thatglow were in Moscow?" remarked one of the footmen.

　　Daniel Terentich made no reply, and again for a long time theywere all silent. The glow spread, rising and failing, farther andfarther still.

　　"God have mercy.... It's windy and dry..." said another voice.

　　"Just look! See what it's doing now. O Lord! You can even see thecrows flying. Lord have mercy on us sinners!"

　　"They'll put it out, no fear!"

　　"Who's to put it out?" Daniel Terentich, who had hitherto beensilent, was heard to say. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Moscowit is, brothers," said he. "Mother Moscow, the white..." his voicefaltered, and he gave way to an old man's sob.

　　And it was as if they had all only waited for this to realize thesignificance for them of the glow they were watching. Sighs wereheard, words of prayer, and the sobbing of the count's old valet.