The rain poured down with redoubled force.
"It will not pass over very soon," continued the forester.
"What is to be done ?" "I'll conduct you to my cottage if you like," he said, abruptly.
"Pray do." "Please take your seat." He stepped to the mare's head, took her by the bit, and turned her from the spot.

We set out.

I clung to the cushion of the drozhky, which rocked like a skiff at sea, and called the dog.
My poor mare splashed her feet heavily through the mire, slipped, stumbled; the forester swayed from right to left in front of the shafts like a specter.

Thus we proceeded for rather a long time.

At last my guide came to a halt.