On the contrary, Marfa and her mother Tatiania grew pallid and weakly with prolonged confinement to the house, and continual fretting about Khariton and little Clava. Only on Sunday morning Tatiania, with her hungry mother's heart, made her way along the white street, and stole within the church door during mass, that she might at least see with her own eyes her little girl sitting with the Batoushka's children. By the New Year the snow was as hard as the roads were in summer, and much pleasanter to travel over, as it was smoother, and there were no clouds of dust. The sky, too, was clear, and of a deep blue, which contrasted beautifully with the unsullied snow. The road to Kovylsk was traced out plainly by the tradesmen's sledges, which had come to bring supplies to the village shops. But no letters had arrived from the prisoners in Kovylsk; and every heretic soul was longing for some tidings of them. In Alexis Ivanoff's barn there was a rough sort of sledge, which he had been wont to use for carrying up reeds from the river. Michael and Sergius determined to get over to Kovylsk secretly in this old sledge, taking only Marfa and Paraska into their counsels. This was necessary, as they would have to tend the cattle during their absence. Tatiania they dared not tell, lest she should talk about it to some of their Stundist neighbours. In the dead of the night the boys dragged the sledge along the silent street, hearing every little jar of the runners as if it had been a shriek loud enough to arouse the neighbourhood. They hid it behind a low hillock where the open steppe began; for luckily they found the gate at the barrier not securely fastened. At sunrise they led the mare, with sacks slung across her, through the street, as if they were going on some errand to Yarina's farm, which lay on that side of the village. Okhrim's grandson saw them, and shouted some words of abuse, but kept at a safe distance. No one else took any notice of them; and before long they were driving over the snowclad steppe. It was bitterly cold, but they had on their sheepskin coats, and caps of Astrachan fur. In their sacks was food enough for three or four days, which Paraska had provided, besides a present for Markovin, to whose house Michael was bound. The air was stinging but wonderfully exhilarating. The low sun lay like a red ball in the filmy sky. The old mare ran at a much brisker pace than her jog-trot under the sultry sunshine. They were jolted and jerked by the shaking of the rough sledge, but this was part of the pleasure to the hardy lads. They sang and laughed and talked as if there was no sorrow for them in the past, the present, or the future. The short day was over before they reached Kovylsk, but the night could not be dark on such a snowy plain, and under such brilliant stars. They parted as soon as they reached the town, Sergius going to a cousin who was living there, whilst Michael went to ask help and shelter from Markovin.