strong felt boots began to ache from being bent in one position, or the
wind blew in somewhere, and after lying still for a short time he again
began to recall the disturbing fact that he might now have been lying
quietly in the warm hut at Grishkino. He again sat up, turned about,
muffled himself up, and settled down once more.

Once he fancied that he heard a distant cock-crow. He felt glad, turned
down his coat-collar and listened with strained attention, but in spite
of all his efforts nothing could be heard but the wind whistling between
the shafts, the flapping of the kerchief, and the snow pelting against
the frame of the sledge.

Nikita sat just as he had done all the time, not moving and not even
answering Vasili Andreevich who had addressed him a couple of times.
'He doesn't care a bit--he's probably asleep!' thought Vasili Andreevich
with vexation, looking behind the sledge at Nikita who was covered with
a thick layer of snow.

Vasili Andreevich got up and lay down again some twenty times. It
seemed to him that the night would never end. 'It must be getting near
morning,' he thought, getting up and looking around. 'Let's have a look
at my watch. It will be cold to unbutton, but if I only know that it's
getting near morning I shall at any rate feel more cheerful. We could
begin harnessing.'

In the depth of his heart Vasili Andreevich knew that it could not yet
be near morning, but he was growing more and more afraid, and wished
both to get to know and yet to deceive himself. He carefully undid the
fastening of his sheepskin, pushed in his hand, and felt about for
a long time before he got to his waistcoat. With great difficulty he