The poor horse was scarcely able to make any headway at all against the wind and snow; his feet slipped at every step, and he panted painfully.

Herode went to his head, and took hold of the bridle with his strong hand to lead him and try to help him along, while the pedant, de Sigognac, and Scapin put their shoulders to the wheels at every inequality in the road and whenever he paused or stumbled badly, and Leander cracked the whip loudly to encourage the poor beast; it would have been downright cruelty to strike him.

As to Matamore, he had lingered behind, and they were expecting every moment to see his tall, spare figure emerge from the gloom with rapid strides and rejoin them.
Finally the storm became so violent that it was impossible to face it any longer; and though it was so important that they should reach the next village before the daylight was all gone, they were forced to halt, and turn the chariot, with its back to the wind.

The poor old horse, utterly exhausted by this last effort, slipped and fell, and without making any attempt to rise lay panting on the ground.

Our unhappy travellers found themselves in a sad predicament indeed--wet, cold, tired and hungry, all in the superlative degree--blinded by the driving snow, and lost, without any means of getting on save their own powers of locomotion, in the midst of a great desert--for the white covering which now lay upon everything had obliterated almost all traces of the road; they did not know which way to turn, or what to do.