“Hillo! driver,” I cried; “look! what is that black object yonder?”
The driver looked carefully in the direction indicated.
“God knows, my lord,” said he, seating himself in his place again; “it is neither a sledge nor a tree, and it seems to move. It must be either a man or a wolf.”
I ordered him to drive towards the unknown object, which was gradually drawing nearer to us. In about two minutes we came up to it and discovered it to be a man.
“Hi! my good man,” cried the driver to him; “say, do you know where the road is?”
“The road is here; I am standing on a firm track,” replied the wayfarer. “But what of it?”
“Listen, peasant,” said I to him; “do you know this country? Can you lead me to a place where I can obtain a night’s lodging?”
“I know the country very well,” replied the peasant. “Heaven be thanked, I have crossed it and re-crossed it in every direction. But you see what sort of weather it is: it would be very easy to miss the road. You had much better stay here and wait; perhaps the storm will blow over, and the sky become clear, then we shall be able to find the road by the help of the stars.”
His cool indifference encouraged me. I had already resolved to abandon myself to the will of God and to pass the night upon the steppe, when suddenly the peasant mounted to the seat of our vehicle and said to the driver:
“Thank Heaven, there is a house not far off; turn to the right and go straight on.”