| BOOK ELEVEN: 1812
30. CHAPTER XXX
 The glow of the first fire that began on the second of September was
 watched from the various roads by the fugitive Muscovites and by the
 retreating troops, with many different feelings. The Rostov party spent the night at Mytishchi, fourteen miles from
 Moscow. They had started so late on the first of September, the road
 had been so blocked by vehicles and troops, so many things had been
 forgotten for which servants were sent back, that they had decided
 to spend that night at a place three miles out of Moscow. The next
 morning they woke late and were again delayed so often that they
 only got as far as Great Mytishchi. At ten o'clock that evening the
 Rostov family and the wounded traveling with them were all distributed
 in the yards and huts of that large village. The Rostovs' servants and
 coachmen and the orderlies of the wounded officers, after attending to
 their masters, had supper, fed the horses, and came out into the
 porches. In a neighboring hut lay Raevski's adjutant with a fractured
 wrist. The awful pain he suffered made him moan incessantly and
 piteously, and his moaning sounded terrible in the darkness of the
 autumn night. He had spent the first night in the same yard as the
 Rostovs. The countess said she had been unable to close her eyes on
 account of his moaning, and at Mytishchi she moved into a worse hut
 simply to be farther away from the wounded man. In the darkness of the night one of the servants noticed, above
 the high body of a coach standing before the porch, the small glow
 of another fire. One glow had long been visible and everybody knew
 that it was Little Mytishchi burning- set on fire by Mamonov's
 Cossacks. "But look here, brothers, there's another fire!" remarked an
 orderly. All turned their attention to the glow. "But they told us Little Mytishchi had been set on fire by Mamonov's
 Cossacks." "But that's not Mytishchi, it's farther away." "Look, it must be in Moscow!" |