NicholasRostovmeanwhileremainedathispost, , bythecriesofthedogswhosenoteswerefamiliartohim, bythewaythevoicesofthehuntsmenapproached, receded, androse, , thatthehoundshadseparatedintotwopacks, thatsomewhereawolfwasbeingchased, ."WhatwoulditbetoTheetodothisforme?" hesaidtoGod."IknowThouartgreat, andthatitisasintoaskthisofThee, butforGod'ssakedolettheoldwolfcomemywayandletKarayspringatit—insightof 'Uncle' whoiswatchingfromoverthere—andseizeitbythethroatinadeathgrip!" Athousandtimesduringthathalf-hourRostovcasteagerandrestlessglancesovertheedgeofthewood, withthetwoscraggyoaksrisingabovetheaspenundergrowthandthegullywithitswater-wornsideand "Uncle's" capjustvisibleabovethebushonhisright.
"No, Ishan'thavesuchluck," thoughtRostov, "yetwhatwouldn'titbeworth! Itisnottobe! Everywhere, atcardsandinwar, Iamalwaysunlucky." MemoriesofAusterlitzandofDolokhovflashedrapidlyandclearlythroughhismind."Onlyonceinmylifetogetanoldwolf, Iwantonlythat!" thoughthe, strainingeyesandearsandlookingtotheleftandthentotherightandlisteningtotheslightestvariationofnoteinthecriesofthedogs.
Againhelookedtotherightandsawsomethingrunningtowardhimacrossthedesertedfield."No, itcan'tbe!" thoughtRostov, takingadeepbreath, —andsosimply, withoutwarning, ornoise, ordisplay, , , holdinghisbreath, , baringhisyellowteethandsnappingathishindlegs.
"Ulyulyulyu!" whisperedRostov, , , cockinghisears, gotupwithquiveringtailfromwhichtuftsofmattedhairhungdown.
