With one hand he supported the other; he was pale and his jaw trembled, shivering feverishly.

He was placed on "Matvevna," the gun from which they had removed the dead officer.

The cloak they spread under him was wet with blood which stained his breeches and arm.

"What, are you wounded, my lad?" said Tushin, approaching the gun on which Rostov sat.

"No, it's a sprain.