The bottle of rum was brought: the window-frame

The bottle of rum was brought: the window-frame, which hindered any one sitting on the outside sill of the window, was being broken out by two footmen, obviously flurried and intimidated by the shouts and directions given by the gentlemen around them.

Anatole with his swaggering air came up to the window. He was longing to break something. He shoved the footmen aside and pulled at the frame, but the frame did not give. He smashed a pane.

“Now then, you’re the strong man,” he turned to Pierre. Pierre took hold of the cross beam, tugged, and with a crash wrenched the oak frame out.

“All out, or they’ll think I’m holding on,” said Dolohov.

“The Englishman’s bragging…it’s a fine feat…eh?” said Anatole.

“Fine,” said Pierre, looking at Dolohov, who with the bottle in his hand had gone up to the window, from which the light of the sky could be seen and the glow of morning and of evening melting into it. Dolohov jumped up on to the window, holding the bottle of rum in his hand. “Listen!” he shouted, standing on the sill and facing the room. Every one was silent.

“I take a bet” (he spoke in French that the Englishman might hear him, and spoke it none too well)…“I take a bet for fifty imperials—like to make it a hundred?” he added, turning to the Englishman.

“Nó, fifty,” said the Englishman.

“Good, for fifty imperials, that I’ll drink off a whole bottle of rum without taking it from my lips. I’ll drink it sitting outside the window, here on this place” (he bent down and pointed to the sloping projection of the wall outside the window)… “and without holding on to anything.…That right?”

“All right,” said the Englishman.