He attached his skis, threw his knapsack over his shoulders and started off. At first it was pleasant in all that quiet night snow, but he’d forgotten how heavy his gear was; and after being inside all winter, the unaccustomed cold began to annoy him, then to upset him, until finally it was all he could think about. He wasn’t that good a skier, either. He felt bulkier than usual—which he was. He’d worn all his clothes—three sweaters, two pair of pants, and two sets of underwear—and now his body itched and sweated inside, while his face felt frozen to the bone. But it was worth it, he thought, trying to regain his earlier cheerfulness. The end of an era. Saved again.

They caught up with him near morning. He’d stopped to rest in the early dawn, when he saw the horse-driven sleigh approaching, and heard the stupid ringing of the little bells, and felt that awful hard lump in the pit of his stomach. They’d be on him in no time. There was no place to hide, and they’d seen him already. He could tell by the vicious intent set to Jonathan’s head and shoulders as he drove the sled. There was no mistaking that obstinate outline.

The Fates were after him, chasing him in the figures of Elgren and Jonathan, and the other two who sat behind—probably Elgren’s brothers, Josef thought. To his own surprise he just felt transfixed, unable to move, or do anything but watch their approach. The sleigh drew ever closer, its gray outlines taking on definite shape, the red color getting brighter and brighter, more and more real. He felt as if the whole thing—sled, horses, and riders—rode from some nightmare place in his own mind, out here to pursue him. On the other hand, it seemed that they’d always chased him, the pursuit would never let up, and the moment would never end.

Why did they bother? he wondered, with a mild astonishment that didn’t even begin to touch his panic. Revenge? Why else? But already the stocky figure of Jonathan leapt into life, jumped from the sled with his father right after, followed by the two others from the back seat. All at once they were at him. They had ropes which they threw about his body, pinning down his arms.

“AaaaaHhhhh,” Jonathan kept shouting. “You brigand! Thief! Aaahhh—More rope. Tie him up good—”

The sight of the rope made Josef really crazy. He suddenly began kicking, yelling, biting. They threw him down and took his skis off and tossed him in the back of the sled. Elgren’s brothers, both big, usually good-hearted men, were laughing now. They thought it was one big joke. Between them, all trussed-up, Josef glared. Jonathan was swearing steadily from the front seat, and his father, Elgren, kept grunting, “Yes, yes.”