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Отмена
Natásha
,
Sónya
,
Madame
Schoss
,
and
two
maids
got
into
Nicholas
'
sleigh
;
Dimmler
,
his
wife
,
and
Pétya
,
into
the
old
count
's
,
and
the
rest
of
the
mummers
seated
themselves
in
the
other
two
sleighs
.
"
You
go
ahead
,
Zakhár
!
"
shouted
Nicholas
to
his
father
's
coachman
,
wishing
for
a
chance
to
race
past
him
.
The
old
count
's
troyka
,
with
Dimmler
and
his
party
,
started
forward
,
squeaking
on
its
runners
as
though
freezing
to
the
snow
,
its
deep-toned
bell
clanging
.
The
side
horses
,
pressing
against
the
shafts
of
the
middle
horse
,
sank
in
the
snow
,
which
was
dry
and
glittered
like
sugar
,
and
threw
it
up
.
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Nicholas
set
off
,
following
the
first
sleigh
;
behind
him
the
others
moved
noisily
,
their
runners
squeaking
.
At
first
they
drove
at
a
steady
trot
along
the
narrow
road
.
While
they
drove
past
the
garden
the
shadows
of
the
bare
trees
often
fell
across
the
road
and
hid
the
brilliant
moonlight
,
but
as
soon
as
they
were
past
the
fence
,
the
snowy
plain
bathed
in
moonlight
and
motionless
spread
out
before
them
glittering
like
diamonds
and
dappled
with
bluish
shadows
.
Bang
,
bang
!
went
the
first
sleigh
over
a
cradle
hole
in
the
snow
of
the
road
,
and
each
of
the
other
sleighs
jolted
in
the
same
way
,
and
rudely
breaking
the
frost-bound
stillness
,
the
troykas
began
to
speed
along
the
road
,
one
after
the
other
.
"
A
hare
's
track
,
a
lot
of
tracks
!
"
rang
out
Natásha
's
voice
through
the
frost-bound
air
.
"
How
light
it
is
,
Nicholas
!
"
came
Sónya
's
voice
.
Nicholas
glanced
round
at
Sónya
,
and
bent
down
to
see
her
face
closer
.
Quite
a
new
,
sweet
face
with
black
eyebrows
and
mustaches
peeped
up
at
him
from
her
sable
furs
--
so
close
and
yet
so
distant
--
in
the
moonlight
.
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"
That
used
to
be
Sónya
,
"
thought
he
,
and
looked
at
her
closer
and
smiled
.
"
What
is
it
,
Nicholas
?
"
"
Nothing
,
"
said
he
and
turned
again
to
the
horses
.