“The winter way. As soon as you turn off you’ll see some bushes, and opposite them there is a way-mark⁠—a large oak, one with branches⁠—and that’s the way.”

Vasíli Andréevich turned the horse back and drove through the outskirts of the village.

“Why not stay the night?” Isáy shouted after them.

But Vasíli Andréevich did not answer and touched up the horse. Four miles of good road, two of which lay through the forest, seemed easy to manage, especially as the wind was apparently quieter and the snow had stopped.