TheundecidedquestionastowhetherthewoundinflictedatBorodinowasmortalornothadhungoverKutuzov'; , justliketheyoungermen, butwiththisdifference, —againstPetersburg, oragainsthim, (whichhefearedmostofall) 'sarmymightturnbackthroughMedynandYukhnov, buttheonethinghecouldnotforeseewaswhathappened—theinsane, convulsivestampedeofNapoleon'sarmyduringitsfirstelevendaysafterleavingMoscow: astampedewhichmadepossiblewhatKutuzovhadnotyetevendaredtothinkof—'sreportaboutBroussier'sdivision, theguerrillas' reportsofdistressinNapoleon'sarmy, rumorsofpreparationsforleavingMoscow, , ' experienceheknewwhatvaluetoattachtorumors, knewhowaptpeoplewhodesireanythingaretogroupallnewssothatitappearstoconfirmwhattheydesire, ', thelettershewrotefromTarutinotoMadamedeStael, thereadingofnovels, thedistributionofawards, hiscorrespondencewithPetersburg, , whichhealoneforesaw, washisheart'sonedesire.
OnthenightoftheeleventhofOctoberhelayleaningonhisarmandthinkingofthat.
TherewasastirinthenextroomandheheardthestepsofToll, Konovnitsyn, andBolkhovitinov.
"Eh, who'sthere? Comein, comein! Whatnews?" thefieldmarshalcalledouttothem.
Whileafootmanwaslightingacandle, Tollcommunicatedthesubstanceofthenews.
"Whobroughtit?" askedKutuzovwithalookwhich, whenthecandlewaslit, struckTollbyitscoldseverity.
"Therecanbenodoubtaboutit, yourHighness."
"Callhimin, callhimhere."
, asifwishingtoreadinhisfacewhatpreoccupiedhisownmind.
"Tellme, tellme, friend," saidhetoBolkhovitinovinhislow, agedvoice, ashepulledtogethertheshirtwhichgapedopenonhischest, "comenearer—? Eh? ThatNapoleonhasleftMoscow? Areyousure? Eh?"
Bolkhovitinovgaveadetailedaccountfromthebeginningofallhehadbeentoldtoreport.
"Speakquicker, quicker! Don'ttortureme!" Kutuzovinterruptedhim.
Bolkhovitinovtoldhimeverythingandwasthensilent, , buthisfacesuddenlypuckeredandwrinkled; hewavedhisarmatTollandturnedtotheoppositesideoftheroom, tothecornerdarkenedbytheiconsthathungthere.
"OLord, myCreator, Thouhasheardourprayer..." saidheinatremulousvoicewithfoldedhands.", OLord!" andhewept.
