“Can you, old man,” he asked, “procure me horses to take me to Jadrino?”
“How should we have horses?” answered the peasant.
“Can you at least give me a guide? I will pay as much as he wants.”
“Wait,” said the old man, lowering the shutter. “I’ll send my son out to you. He’ll guide you.”
Vladimir waited. A minute had not elapsed when he began knocking again. The shutter went up again, the same gray beard made its appearance.
“What do you want?”
“Well, where’s your son?”
“He’ll be out soon. He’s putting on his boots. Are you cold? Step in and warm yourself.”
“Thanks, send your son out quickly.”
The gate creaked; a lad came out with a heavy stick in hand. He went in front, now indicating, now searching for, the road hidden under snowdrifts.