frozen, rose with great difficulty and sat up, moving his hand before
his nose in a strange manner just as if he were driving away flies. He
waved his hand and said something, and seemed to Vasili Andreevich to be
calling him. Vasili Andreevich left the cloth unadjusted and went up to
the sledge.

'What is it?' he asked. 'What are you saying?'

'I'm dy . . . ing, that's what,' said Nikita brokenly and with
difficulty. 'Give what is owing to me to my lad, or to my wife, no
matter.'

'Why, are you really frozen?' asked Vasili Andreevich.

'I feel it's my death. Forgive me for Christ's sake . . .' said Nikita
in a tearful voice, continuing to wave his hand before his face as if
driving away flies.

Vasili Andreevich stood silent and motionless for half a minute. Then
suddenly, with the same resolution with which he used to strike hands
when making a good purchase, he took a step back and turning up his
sleeves began raking the snow off Nikita and out of the sledge. Having
done this he hurriedly undid his girdle, opened out his fur coat, and
having pushed Nikita down, lay down on top of him, covering him not
only with his fur coat but with the whole of his body, which glowed
with warmth. After pushing the skirts of his coat between Nikita and
the sides of the sledge, and holding down its hem with his knees, Vasili
Andreevich lay like that face down, with his head pressed against the
front of the sledge. Here he no longer heard the horse's movements or
the whistling of the wind, but only Nikita's breathing. At first and for