" Who are they? Why are they running? Can they be coming at me? And why? To kill me? Me whom everyone is so fond of?" He remembered his mother's love for him, and his family's, and his friends', and the enemy's intention to kill him seemed impossible.

" But perhaps they may do it!" For more than ten seconds he stood not moving from the spot or realizing the situation.

The foremost Frenchman, the one with the hooked nose, was already so close that the expression of his face could be seen.

And the excited, alien face of that man, his bayonet hanging down, holding his breath, and running so lightly, frightened Rostov.

He seized his pistol and, instead of firing it, flung it at the Frenchman and ran with all his might toward the bushes.