A mounted general separated himself from the infantry and approached Kutuzov.

Of Kutuzov's suite only four remained.

They were all pale and exchanged looks in silence.

"Stop those wretches!" gasped Kutuzov to the regimental commander, pointing to the flying soldiers; but at that instant, as if to punish him for those words, bullets flew hissing across the regiment and across Kutuzov's suite like a flock of little birds.