They were harnessed
well forward to a very long pole, and covered the ground with free
strides, unhampered by any thought of their heels. The snow
pattered against the cloth stretched like a wind-sail from their
flanks to the rising front of the sleigh.
Barlasch sat upright, a thick motionless figure, four-square to the
cutting wind. He drove with one hand at a time, sitting on the
other to restore circulation between whiles. It was impossible to
distinguish the form of his garments, for he was wrapped round in a
woollen shawl like a mummy, showing only his eyes beneath the ragged
fur of a sheepskin cap upon which the rime caused by the warmth of
the horses and his own breath had frozen like a coating of frosted
silver.
Desiree was huddled down beside him, with her head bent forward so
as to protect her face from the wind, which seared like a hot iron.
She wore a hood of white fur lined with a darker fur, and when she
lifted her face only her eyes, bright and wakeful, were visible.
"If you are warm, you may go to sleep," said Barlasch in a mumbling
voice, for his face was drawn tight and his lips stiffened by the
cold. "But if you shiver, you must stay awake."
But Desiree seemed to have no wish for sleep. Whenever Barlasch
leant forward to peer beneath her hood she looked round at him with
wakeful eyes. Whenever, to see if she were still awake, he gave her
an unceremonious nudge, she nudged back again instantly.
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