onderful redoubt."

I was always superstitious, and this piece of augury, coming at that
moment, troubled me. I sought my couch, but could not sleep. I rose, and
walked about a while, watching the long line of fires upon the heights
beyond the village of Cheverino.

When the sharp night air had thoroughly refreshed my blood I went back
to the fire. I rolled my mantle round me, and I shut my eyes, trusting
not to open them till daybreak. But sleep refused to visit me.
Insensibly my thoughts grew doleful. I told myself that I had not a
friend among the hundred thousand men who filled that plain. If I were
wounded, I should be placed in hospital, in the hands of ignorant and
careless surgeons. I called to mind what I had heard of operations. My
heart beat violently, and I mechanically arranged, as a kind of
rude cuirass, my handkerchief and pocketbook upon my breast. Then,
overpowered with weariness, my eyes closed drowsily, only to open the
next instant with a start at some new thought of horror.

Fatigue, however, at last gained the day. When the drums beat at
daybreak I was fast asleep. We were drawn up in ranks. The roll was
called, then we stacked our arms, and everything announced that we
should pass another uneventful day.

But about three o'clock an aide-de-camp arrived with orders. We were
commanded to take arms.

Our sharpshooters marched into the plain, We followed slowly, and in
twenty minutes we saw the outposts of the Russians falling back and
entering the redoubt. We had a battery of artillery on our right,
another on our left, but both some distance in advance of us. They
opened a sharp fire upon the enemy, who returned it briskly, and the
redoubt of Cheverino was soon concealed by volumes of thick smoke. Our
regiment was almost covered from the Russians' fire by a piece of rising
ground. Their bullets (which besides were rarely aimed at us, for they
preferred to fire upon our cannoneers) whistled over us, or at worst
knocked up a shower of earth and stones.

Just as the order to advance was given, the captain looked at me
intently. I stroked my sprouting mustache with an air of unconcern; in
truth, I was not frightened, and only dreaded lest I might be
thought so. These passing bullets aided my heroic coolness, while my
self-respect assured me that the danger was a real one, since I was
veritably under fire. I was delighted at my self-possession, and already
looked forward to the pleasure of describ