Only a little earth crumbled from the bank under the horse's hind hoofs.

Turning the horse sharply, he again jumped the ditch, and deferentially addressed the horseman with the white plumes, evidently suggesting that he should do the same.

The rider, whose figure seemed familiar to Rostov and involuntarily riveted his attention, made a gesture of refusal with his head and hand and by that gesture Rostov instantly recognized his lamented and adored monarch.

"But it can't be he, alone in the midst of this empty field!" thought Rostov.