not trust himself to speak. And in fact they had not proceeded more than twenty yards from the ditch when in front of them — there was no mistaking it — a village loomed forth blackly, and a new and melancholy sound was to be heard. Nikita had guessed rightly, this was no wood, but a row of low vines, with here and there a few leaves still shivering upon them. Making his way towards these vines, moaning sadly in the wind, the horse suddenly raised itself on its fore-feet till it was higher than the sledge, then struggled on to its hind legs also, and so extricated its knees from the snow. It had gained the road.
"So, here we are," said Nikita; "and we don't know where."
The horse proceeded without stumbling along the snow-bound road, and they had gone along it not more than forty yards when a row of fences loomed black before them, from which the snow never ceased to fall and spread about. On passing the fence the road turned in the direction of the wind, and they plunged into a snow-drift. But right in front of them a lane between the houses was visible, so that it was plain the drift had been blown together upon the road, and they would have to force their way through it. And, indeed, after forcing their way through the snow-drift they got upon the road again. On a rope in the furthermost courtyard some stiff-frozen clothes were fluttering desperately in the wind in every direction: two shirts, one red and one white; hose, socks, and a petticoat. The white shirt was turning about with particular desperation, and waving its sleeves.
19
