his boots, and seated himself once more.

'We must go to the right,' he said decidedly. 'The wind was blowing on
our left before, but now it is straight in my face. Drive to the right,'
he repeated with decision.

Vasili Andreevich took his advice and turned to the right, but still
there was no road. They went on in that direction for some time. The
wind was as fierce as ever and it was snowing lightly.

'It seems, Vasili Andreevich, that we have gone quite astray,' Nikita
suddenly remarked, as if it were a pleasant thing. 'What is that?' he
added, pointing to some potato vines that showed up from under the snow.

Vasili Andreevich stopped the perspiring horse, whose deep sides were
heaving heavily.

'What is it?'

'Why, we are on the Zakharov lands. See where we've got to!'

'Nonsense!' retorted Vasili Andreevich.

'It's not nonsense, Vasili Andreevich. It's the truth,' replied Nikita.
'You can feel that the sledge is going over a potato-field, and there
are the heaps of vines which have been carted here. It's the Zakharov
factory land.'

'Dear me, how we have gone astray!' said Vasili Andreevich. 'What are we
to do now?'