out any more; and, what is more, Vasily Andreich stood up to put on his things. There was nothing for it but to do likewise. So Nikita also got up, put back into the sugar-basin his lump of sugar which he had nibbled round on every side, wiped with a cloth all round his face, still wet with sweat, and went to put on his khalat.
When it had been put on he sighed heavily, and having thanked his host and hostess, and taken leave of them, went out of the warm, bright sitting-room into the dark, cold outhouses, full of the whistling, rushing wind, strewn with snow which had drifted through the chinks in the door, and so from thence into the still darker courtyard.
Pete in his pelisse was standing beside his horse in the middle of the courtyard, and with a smile upon his face was repeating verses out of Paulson. He was saying:
"The lowering tempest hides the sky,
The whirlwind brings the driving snow,
Now like a wild beast it doth cry,
Now like a child it whimpers low."
Nikita nodded his head approvingly, and began to unloose the reins.
The old host, accompanying Vasily Andreich, had brought out a lantern into the shed, and wanted to light it, but the wind immediately blew the light out. It was plain to those standing in the courtyard that the snowstorm had increased in violence.
"It's quite a little storm," thought Vasily Andreich; "I half wish I wasn't going. But what's
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