The night was dark but starry, the road showed black in the snow that had fallen the previous day--the day of the battle.

Reviewing his impressions of the recent battle, picturing pleasantly to himself the impression his news of a victory would create, or recalling the send-off given him by the commander in chief and his fellow officers, Prince Andrew was galloping along in a post chaise enjoying the feelings of a man who has at length begun to attain a long-desired happiness.

As soon as he closed his eyes his ears seemed filled with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of victory.

Then he began to imagine that the Russians were running away and that he himself was killed, but he quickly roused himself with a feeling of joy, as if learning afresh that this was not so but that on the contrary the French had run away.

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