This was the signal for his execution.  The poor wretch was struck down by an ill-directed blow of a sabre.  He fell, but wounded only, and perhaps the arrival of the French might have saved him, had not the people perceived that he was yet alive.  They forced the barriers, fell upon him, and tore him to pieces.

The Frenchman during this scene was petrified with terror.  “As for thee,” said Rostopchin, turning towards him, “being a Frenchman, thou canst not but wish for the arrival of the French army:  be free, then, but go and tell thy countrymen, that Russia had but a single traitor, and that he is punished.”  Then addressing himself to the wretches who surrounded him, he called them sons of Russia, and exhorted them to make atonement for their crimes by serving their country.  He was the last to quit that unfortunate city, and he then rejoined the Russian army.

From that moment the mighty Moscow belonged neither to the Russians nor to the French, but to that guilty horde, whose fury was directed by a few officers and soldiers of the police.  They were organized, and each had his post allotted to him, in order that pillage, fire, and devastation might commence every where at once.

CHAP.  IV.

That very day (September the 14th), Napoleon, being at length persuaded that Kutusoff had not thrown himself on his right flank, rejoined his advanced guard.  He mounted his horse a few leagues from Moscow.  He marched slowly and cautiously, sending scouts before him to examine the woods and the ravines, and to ascend all the eminences to look out for the enemy’s army.  A battle was expected:  the ground favoured the opinion:  works were begun, but had all been abandoned, and we experienced not the slightest resistance.

At length the last eminence only remained to be passed:  it is contiguous to Moscow, which it commands.  It is called the Hill of Salvation, because, on its summit, the inhabitants, at sight of their holy city, cross and prostrate themselves.  Our scouts had soon gained the top of this hill.  It was two o’clock:  the sun caused this great city to glisten with a thousand colours.  Struck with astonishment at the sight, they paused, exclaiming, “Moscow!  Moscow!” Every one quickened his pace; the troops hurried on in disorder; and the whole army, clapping their hands, repeated with transport, “Moscow!  Moscow!” just as sailors shout “Land! land!” at the conclusion of a long and toilsome voyage.

At the sight of this gilded city, of this brilliant knot uniting Asia and Europe, of this magnificent emporium of the luxury, the manners, and the arts of the two fairest divisions of the globe, we stood still in proud contemplation.  What a glorious day had now arrived!  It would furnish the grandest, the most brilliant recollection of our whole lives.  We felt that at this moment all our actions would engage the attention of the astonished universe; and that every one of our movements, however trivial, would be recorded by history.