United States or Democratic Republic of the Congo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
With a last desperate effort Velasco dashed forward, pursuing the veil, the fluttering cloak and the door of the carriage closed behind them. In that moment, as it closed, the horses leaped together, as twin bullets from the mouth of a cannon; galloping, lashed and terrified through the night. It was still inside the karéta.
Occasionally the karéta made a sudden lurch forward; then, with guttural oaths and exclamations, the animals were reined back on their haunches, slipping and sliding on the ice, plunging and foaming. The foam turned to ice as it fell, flecking their bits. The breath from their nostrils floated out like a vapour, slender and hoary.
He could scarcely hear it for the lurching of the carriage. The horses gave a final plunge forward, and then fell back suddenly, reined in by an iron hand, and the karéta came to a standstill. The station was all light and confusion; porters were rushing about, truckmen and officials, workmen carrying coloured lanterns.
The driver, muffled in furs, swung his arms against his breast, biting his fingers, stamping his feet to keep them from freezing. The karéta, the driver and the horses were covered with snow, lashed by it, blinded with it. They waited wearily.
It was night and dark, with a bitter wind that came shrieking about the corners, blowing the snow, as it fell, into a riot of feathery flakes; sudden gusts that raided the drifts, driving the white maze hither and thither, flinging it up and away in a very fury of madness. The cold was intense. Before the door of a house on the little Morskaïa stood a karéta. It was large and covered.
His pulses beat rapidly; he groped again with his hands, slowly, fearfully, hesitating and then groping again. It was as though something, someone were trying to elude him in the darkness. His breath came fast; he listened again. Something cowered and breathed "Bózhe moi!" He gripped his lip with his teeth and hurled himself forward, grappling into the furthermost recesses of the karéta.
The main avenues were crowded with carriages of every conceivable description the grandly decorated coach of the noble, glittering with armorial bearings and drawn by four richly-caparisoned horses; the barouche, easy and elegant, filled with a gay company of foreigners; the drosky, whirling along at a rapid pace, with its solitary occupant; the kareta, plain, neat, and substantial, carrying on its ample seats some worthy merchant and his family; the nondescript little vehicle, without top, bottom, or sides nothing but four small wheels and a cushioned seat perched on springs, with an exquisite perched astride upon the street, driving a magnificent blood horse at the rate of 2.40; and English boxes with stiff Englishmen in them; and French chaises with loose Frenchmen in them; and a New York buggy with a New York fancy man in it; and hundreds of fine horses with dashing Russian officers in uniform mounted on them, and hundreds of other horses with secretaries and various young sprigs of nobility struggling painfully to stay mounted on them; and, in short, every thing grand, fanciful, and entertaining in the way of locomotion that the most fertile imagination can conceive.
My fingers are like frozen sticks. There! Now, the Station: Warchávski Voksál as fast as you can! Ugh, what a storm!" The Violinist flung himself back in the corner of the karéta, huddling himself in the furs; the windows were shut and his breath made a steam against the panes. The carriage was black as a cave. "There ought to be another fur!" he said angrily to himself.
Word Of The Day