The journey to Osterno had been carefully planned and arranged by Steinmetz--a king among organizers.

The sleigh drive across the steppe was to be accomplished in ten hours.
The snow had begun to fall as they clattered across the floating bridge of Tver.

It had fallen ever since, and the afternoon lowered gloomily.
In America such visitations are called "blizzards"; here in Russia it is merely "the snow." The freezing wind is taken as a matter of course.
At a distance of one hundred miles from Tver, the driver of the sleigh containing Etta, Maggie, and Paul had suddenly rolled off his perch.

His hands were frostbitten; a piteous blue face peered out at his master through ice-laden eyebrows, mustache, and beard.

In a moment Maggie was out in the snow beside the two men, while Etta hastily closed the door.
"He is all right," said Paul; "it is only the cold.