Book Five: 1806-07 - Chapter XVIII

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Going along the corridor, the assistant led Rostov to theofficers' wards, consisting of three rooms, the doors of which stoodopen. There were beds in these rooms and the sick and wounded officerswere lying or sitting on them. Some were walking about the rooms inhospital dressing gowns. The first person Rostov met in theofficers' ward was a thin little man with one arm, who was walkingabout the first room in a nightcap and hospital dressing gown, witha pipe between his teeth. Rostov looked at him, trying to rememberwhere he had seen him before.

　　"See where we've met again!" said the little man. "Tushin, Tushin,don't you remember, who gave you a lift at Schon Grabern? And I've hada bit cut off, you see..." he went on with a smile, pointing to theempty sleeve of his dressing gown. "Looking for Vasili DmitrichDenisov? My neighbor," he added, when he heard who Rostov wanted."Here, here," and Tushin led him into the next room, from whencecame sounds of several laughing voices.

　　"How can they laugh, or even live at all here?" thought Rostov,still aware of that smell of decomposing flesh that had been so strongin the soldiers' ward, and still seeming to see fixed on him thoseenvious looks which had followed him out from both sides, and the faceof that young soldier with eyes rolled back.

　　Denisov lay asleep on his bed with his head under the blanket,though it was nearly noon.

　　"Ah, Wostov? How are you, how are you?" he called out, still inthe same voice as in the regiment, but Rostov noticed sadly that underthis habitual ease and animation some new, sinister, hidden feelingshowed itself in the expression of Denisov's face and theintonations of his voice.

　　His wound, though a slight one, had not yet healed even now, sixweeks after he had been hit. His face had the same swollen pallor asthe faces of the other hospital patients, but it was not this thatstruck Rostov. What struck him was that Denisov did not seem glad tosee him, and smiled at him unnaturally. He did not ask about theregiment, nor about the general state of affairs, and when Rostovspoke of these matters did not listen.

　　Rostov even noticed that Denisov did not like to be reminded ofthe regiment, or in general of that other free life which was going onoutside the hospital. He seemed to try to forget that old life and wasonly interested in the affair with the commissariat officers. OnRostov's inquiry as to how the matter stood, he at once producedfrom under his pillow a paper he had received from the commissionand the rough draft of his answer to it. He became animated when hebegan reading his paper and specially drew Rostov's attention to thestinging rejoinders he made to his enemies. His hospital companions,who had gathered round Rostov- a fresh arrival from the world outside-gradually began to disperse as soon as Denisov began reading hisanswer. Rostov noticed by their faces that all those gentlemen hadalready heard that story more than once and were tired of it. Only theman who had the next bed, a stout Uhlan, continued to sit on hisbed, gloomily frowning and smoking a pipe, and little one-armed Tushinstill listened, shaking his head disapprovingly. In the middle ofthe reading, the Uhlan interrupted Denisov.

　　"But what I say is," he said, turning to Rostov, "it would be bestsimply to petition the Emperor for pardon. They say great rewards willnow be distributed, and surely a pardon would be granted...."

　　"Me petition the Empewo'!" exclaimed Denisov, in a voice to which hetried hard to give the old energy and fire, but which sounded likean expression of irritable impotence. "What for? If I were a wobberI would ask mercy, but I'm being court-martialed for bwingingwobbers to book. Let them twy me, I'm not afwaid of anyone. I'veserved the Tsar and my countwy honowably and have not stolen! And am Ito be degwaded?... Listen, I'm w'iting to them stwaight. This iswhat I say: 'If I had wobbed the Tweasuwy...'"

　　"It's certainly well written," said Tushin, "but that's not thepoint, Vasili Dmitrich," and he also turned to Rostov. "One has tosubmit, and Vasili Dmitrich doesn't want to. You know the auditor toldyou it was a bad business.

　　"Well, let it be bad," said Denisov.

　　"The auditor wrote out a petition for you," continued Tushin, "andyou ought to sign it and ask this gentleman to take it. No doubt he"(indicating Rostov) "has connections on the staff. You won't find abetter opportunity."

　　"Haven't I said I'm not going to gwovel?" Denisov interrupted him,went on reading his paper.

　　Rostov had not the courage to persuade Denisov, though heinstinctively felt that the way advised by Tushin and the otherofficers was the safest, and though he would have been glad to be ofservice to Denisov. He knew his stubborn will and straightforwardhasty temper.

　　When the reading of Denisov's virulent reply, which took more thanan hour, was over, Rostov said nothing, and he spent the rest of theday in a most dejected state of mind amid Denisov's hospital comrades,who had round him, telling them what he knew and listening to theirstories. Denisov was moodily silent all the evening.

　　Late in the evening, when Rostov was about to leave, he askedDenisov whether he had no commission for him.

　　"Yes, wait a bit," said Denisov, glancing round at the officers, andtaking his papers from under his pillow he went to the window, wherehe had an inkpot, and sat down to write.

　　"It seems it's no use knocking one's head against a wall!" hesaid, coming from the window and giving Rostov a large envelope. In itwas the petition to the Emperor drawn up by the auditor, in whichDenisov, without alluding to the offenses of the commissariatofficials, simply asked for pardon.

　　"Hand it in. It seems..."

　　He did not finish, but gave a painfully unnatural smile.