BOOK ELEVEN: 1812
33. CHAPTER XXXIII
(continued)
"On ne passe pas!"* cried a voice.
*"You can't pass!
"This way, uncle," cried the girl. "We'll pass through the side
street, by the Nikulins'!"
Pierre turned back, giving a spring now and then to keep up with
her. She ran across the street, turned down a side street to the left,
and, passing three houses, turned into a yard on the right.
"It's here, close by," said she and, running across the yard, opened
a gate in a wooden fence and, stopping, pointed out to him a small
wooden wing of the house, which was burning brightly and fiercely. One
of its sides had fallen in, another was on fire, and bright flames
issued from the openings of the windows and from under the roof.
As Pierre passed through the fence gate, he was enveloped by hot air
and involuntarily stopped.
"Which is it? Which is your house?" he asked.
"Ooh!" wailed the girl, pointing to the wing. "That's it, that was
our lodging. You've burned to death, our treasure, Katie, my
precious little missy! Ooh!" lamented Aniska, who at the sight of
the fire felt that she too must give expression to her feelings.
Pierre rushed to the wing, but the heat was so great that he
involuntarily passed round in a curve and came upon the large house
that was as yet burning only at one end, just below the roof, and
around which swarmed a crowd of Frenchmen. At first Pierre did not
realize what these men, who were dragging something out, were about;
but seeing before him a Frenchman hitting a peasant with a blunt saber
and trying to take from him a fox-fur coat, he vaguely understood that
looting was going on there, but he had no time to dwell on that idea.
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