“A convoy was driving along the high road; it was getting dark; There were no more than two miles left to the village. A strong snowstorm was swirling in the field; the wind tore the matting and ropes from the carts; the horses plunged through the potholes, and the snow roared angrily under the runners. On the front cart, a muffled footman sang songs to keep warm, changing them every now and then...”