Being like-minded fellows, all three had made similar plans for the future. Still there was no sign of the horses. Every so often a small lantern carried by an ostler appeared in one dark doorway only to disappear into another. The sound came occasionally of horses’ hooves stamping on the ground, muffled by the dung in the stalls. From the far end of the building the voice of a man swearing at the animals could also be heard. A faint tinkling of bells indicated that the harness was being put on and this sound was soon transformed into a continuous jingle, changing rhythm with the horse’s movements, stopping occasionally and then starting up again with a sudden jerk and the dull thud of an iron-shod hoof hitting the ground. Suddenly the door closed. Silence fell. The frozen townsfolk stopped talking and stood there, stiff and motionless.

A curtain of white flakes swirled ceaselessly to the ground, blurring outlines and powdering every object with a dusting of ice. In the deep silence of the town buried in wintry stillness nothing could be heard save the vague, mysterious rustling whisper, more sensation than sound, of the falling snow, a mingling of weightless particles which seemed to be filling the sky and covering the world.

The man reappeared with his lantern, leading at the end of a rope a miserable and unwilling horse. He tethered it to the hitching post and fastened the traces, spending a long time fixing the harness with one hand while the other held the lantern. As he was about to fetch the second horse, he noticed the travellers standing motionless and already white with snow from head to toe.

‘Why don’t you get on board?’ he said. ‘At least you’ll be under cover.’

This thought had apparently not occurred to them before and they rushed to the coach. The three men settled their wives at the far end then got in beside them. The other indistinct, muffled figures took the remaining places in silence.

Their feet sank into the straw covering the floor. The ladies at the far end, having brought little copper foot-warmers which ran on chemical fuel, now began lighting these contraptions. For some time they could be heard quietly extolling the virtues of them and exchanging civilities.

At last the coach was ready, with six rather than four horses harnessed because of the heavy weather. A voice from outside called: ‘Everybody in?’ They set off.

The coach lumbered slowly and laboriously forward. The wheels sank into the snow, the whole vehicle creaked and groaned, the horses slipped and panted and steamed and the driver’s huge whip cracked ceaselessly. It darted in every direction, knotting then uncoiling itself like a thin snake to give a sudden sting to a firm rump which then tensed into greater effort.