Only ten paces divided them.

Dolokhov lowered his head to the snow, greedily bit at it, again raised his head, adjusted himself, drew in his legs and sat up, seeking a firm center of gravity.

He sucked and swallowed the cold snow, his lips quivered but his eyes, still smiling, glittered with effort and exasperation as he mustered his remaining strength.

He raised his pistol and aimed.

"Sideways! Cover yourself with your pistol!" ejaculated Nesvitski.