I began to scold him. Saveliitch took up his defense:

“Why did you not listen to him,” said he, angrily; “you could have

returned, taken some tea and slept till morning; the storm would have

been over, and we could then have set out. Why this haste? as if you

were going to your wedding?”

Saveliitch was right. What was to be done? The snow continued to fall;

it was heaped up around the kibitka; the horses stood motionless, now

and then shivering. The coachman walked around them adjusting their

harness, as if he had nothing else to do.

Saveliitch grumbled.

I strained my eyes in every direction, hoping to see signs of a

dwelling, or of a road, but I could only see the whirling of the

snow-drift. All at once I thought I saw some thing black. “Halloo!

coachman,” I cried out, “what is that black thing yonder?”

The coachman looked attentively where I indicated. “God knows, my lord,”

he replied, re-mounting to his seat; “it is not a kibitka, nor a tree;

it seems to be moving. It must be a wolf or a man!”

I ordered him to go in the direction of the unknown object which was

coming toward us. In two minutes we were on a line with it, and I

recognized a man.

“Halloo! good man!” shouted my coachman; “tell us, do you know the

road?”

“This is the road,” replied the man. “I am on solid ground, but what the

devil is the good of that.”

“Listen, my good peasant,” said I; “do you know this country? Can you

lead us to a shelter for the night?”

“This country! Thank God, I have been over it on foot and in carriage,

from one end to the other. But one can not help losing the road in this

weather. It is better to stop here and wait till the hurricane ceases:

then the sky will clear, and we can find the way by the stars.”

His coolness gave me courage. I had decided to trust myself to the mercy

of God and pass the night on the steppe, when the traveler, seating

himself on the bench which was the coachman’s seat, said to the driver:

“Thank God, a dwelling is near. Turn to the right and go on.”

“Why should I turn to the right?” said the coachman, sulkily, “where do

you see a road?”

“Must I say to you these horses, as well as the harness, belong to

another? then use the whip without respite.”

Marie; a story of Russian love · 第 11 / 33 题