“It’s all for your good,” returned she. “I want to set out early, in order that we may reach the village on the other side of the wood before evening.”
The man laughed; while she alertly set before him the black bread and the warm milk and water, which the good woman had provided for their breakfast, and brought him his sheepskin cloak, and helped to fasten it under his chin.
The weather had quite cleared up. For a Russian climate, the day was fine; and the two wanderers made their way through the forest with such good speed that it was still early in the afternoon when they reached the village. It was a very small hamlet, consisting of a few wood-cutters’ huts. At the door of the most important looking among them, which served as a sort of post-house, there stood a sledge, surrounded by a small retinue of attendants, as if awaiting the master. Paulina lingered a moment to admire the pretty trappings of the vehicle, its soft cushions, its fur and velvet linings, the bright harness, and the elegant shape of the coach itself.
Her companion asked one of the men standing near, whither the sledge was bound.
“We are going to take it for our master to Igorhof,” replied the attendant.
“The very place where my daughter is.”
“As the sledge is going empty to Igorhof, I wonder whether these people would allow us to ride in it,” said the man. “I should dearly love to reach Igorhof on Christmas Day. I’ll tell them I’m not so poor as I seem, and that, if they’ll trust my word and allow us to ride, I’ll pay them for their courtesy when we arrive at Igorhof, where I have friends and money.”
“But is that true?” asked the child.