Chapter 4

--"And we thank you for it."--

She went out. All waited for her return before they sat down at the table.

Each was sorry that he had not been called instead of that violent and irascible girl, and prepared mentally the platitudes he would utter in case he should be called in his turn.

But at the end of ten minutes, she came back, out of breath, red to suffocation, exasperated. She was stammering:--"Oh! la Canaille! la Canaille!"[*]

[*][Note from Brett: This translates, roughly, into "Oh! the rogue! the rogue!"]

All rushed up to her to find out what had happened, but she did not say anything, and as the Count was insisting, she replied with a great deal of dignity:--"No, it does not concern you; I cannot speak..."

Then they took their seats around a high soup tureen from which issued a smell of cabbage. In spite of this untoward incident, the supper was cheerful. The cider was good; the Loiseau couple and the Sisters drank of it by economy. the others ordered wine. Cornudet called for a bottle of beer. He had a peculiar way of uncorking the bottle, making the beer foam, examining it as he inclined his glass, which he then raised between the lamp and his eyes in order to appreciate better its color. While drinking, his long beard, that had kept the color of his favorite beverage, seemed to shake with joy; his eyes squinted in his effort not to lose sight of his glass, and he looked as if he were performing the only function for which he had been created. One would have thought that in his mind he established a relationship and a kind of affinity between the two great passions that occupied all his life: Pale Ale and Revolution; and certainly he could not taste the former without dreaming of the latter.

Mr. and Mrs. Follenvie were dining at the other end of the table, the man, rattling like a broken down locomotive, was too short winded to talk while eating; but the woman never kept silent. She told all her impressions on the arrival of the Prussians, what they did, what they said, execrating them first because they cost them money, and then because she had two sons in the Army. She spoke especially to the Countess, flattered at the opportunity of talking with a lady of quality.

Then she lowered her voice to broach delicate subjects, and her husband interrupted her now and then:--"You better hold your tongue, Madame Follenvie!"--But she did not pay any attention to his admonitions, and continued,

--"Yes, Madame, these people do nothing but eat potatoes and pork, and again pork and potatoes. And you must not think that they are clean. Oh, No, indeed not!--They soil and dirty everything, permit me the expression. And if you saw them drill for hours and days! they are all there, in a field, and march forward and march backward, and turn this way and turn that way. If at least they cultivated the land, or worked on the roads, in their country!--But no, Madame, these soldiers are good for nothing; what a pity that the poor people should toil and feed them and they should learn nothing but how to massacre!--I am only an uneducated old woman, it is true, but in seeing them wear themselves out by marching from morning till night, I say to myself:--"When there are so many people who make so many discoveries to serve the people, why should others take so much trouble to be harmful? Truly, is it not abominable to kill people, whether they are Prussians, or English, or Polish or French?--If you take revenge on somebody, who has wronged you, that is bad enough, because you are condemned to jail, but when our boys are exterminated like game, with guns, it must be all right, because decorations are given to the man who kills the most--No, indeed, I shall never be able to understand it."

Cornudet raised his voice:

--"War is barbarous when you attack a peaceful neighbor; it is a sacred duty when waged in defense of one's country."

The old woman lowered her head.

--"Yes in self-defense, it is another matter, but shouldn't we rather kill off all the Kings who go to war for their own pleasure?"

--Cornudet's eyes flashed:

--"Bravo, citoyenne[*]!" said he.

[*][Note from Brett: This translates, roughly, into "citizen"]

Mr. Carré-Lamadon was in deep meditation. Although a fanatical admirer of illustrious generals, the common sense of that peasant woman made him think of the opulence that would bring to a country so many hands now idle and necessarily ruinous, so many forces kept unproductive, if they were employed for the great industrial enterprises which, at the present pace, it would take centuries to complete.

But Loiseau, leaving his seat, went and spoke in a very low voice to the inn-keeper. The fat man was laughing, coughing, and expectorating. His enormous stomach shook with merriment at the jokes of his neighbor, and he bought from him six casks of claret to be delivered in the Spring, after the departure of the Prussians.

Hardly were they through with supper, they retired, as they were all tired out.

Loiseau, however, who had kept an eye on what was going on, send his wife to bed; then he pressed now his ear, now his eye to the keyhole in order to try and discover what he called "the mysteries of the hall."--

After about an hour, he heard a rustle, peeped out quickly and saw Boule de Suif, who looked still more corpulent in a blue cashmere dressing gown trimmed with white lace. She held a candle in her hand and made straight for the room at the other end of the hall bearing a conspicuous number. But a side-door opened, and when, after a few minutes, she came back, Cornudet, in his shirt-sleeves and suspenders, was following her. Boule de Suif seemed to deny him energetically admission to her room. Unfortunately Loisseau could not hear what they said, but in the end, as they raised their voices, he was able to catch a few words. Cornudet was insisting eagerly:

--"Come, now, you are silly! what does it matter to you?"--

She seemed indignant and replied:

--"No, my friend, there are times when we cannot do such things, and why, here, it would be a shame!"

Apparently, he failed to understand and asked why.--Then she became excited and speaking louder, she said:

--"Why? Don't you understand why? When Prussians are in the house, maybe in the next room?" He had a newspaper which he unfolded on his knees. A hussy who denied herself to the solicitations of a man while they were near the enemy, must have aroused in his heart his failing dignity, for, after having kissed her, he went back stealthily to his room.

Loiseau, quite excited, left the keyhole, and quickly jumped into the conjugal bed to seek solace near the hard carcass of his espoused.

Then the whole house became silent. But soon there arose from somewhere, from some indeterminate direction, which might have been the cellar as well as the attic, a powerful monotonous snore, a deep and prolonged noise, like the throbbing of a boiler under pressure--Mr. Follenvie was sleeping.

As it had been decided that they would start at eight o'clock the next morning, at that hour everybody was in the kitchen; but the coach, the hood of which formed a roof of snow, stood solitary in the middle of the yard, without horses and without driver. In vain a search was made for the latter in the stable, barns, and coach-house. Then all the men decided to scour the country, and they set out. They found themselves in the Square, with the Church at the farther end, and on both sides low houses in which Prussian soldiers could be seen. The first one they saw was peeling potatoes; further on, the second was washing the barber's shop. Another, bearded up to his eyes, was kissing a crying child and lulling him on his knees to quiet it; fat peasant women, whose husbands were "in the fighting army," were showing by the language of signs to their obedient conquerors the work they had to do: chop wood, prepare soup, grind coffee; one of them was even washing for his hostess, an impotent grandmother.

The Count, surprised, questioned the beadle who was coming out of the presbytery. The old Church rat replied:--"Oh, those here are not bad; they are not Prussians, according to what I hear. They come from farther off, I don't know exactly where; and they have all left wives and children at home; they are not so fond of war, I assure you; I am positive that over there they are mourning for their men; and war will cause them much distress, as it does us. Here at least we are not so badly off for the present, because the soldiers don't harm us and they work as if they were in their own houses. You see, Sir, we poor people, must help each other. It is the wealthy ones who make war."

Cornudet, indignant at the cordial understanding established between the conquerors and the conquered, went away, preferring to shut himself up in the inn. Loiseau cracked a joke: "They are re-peopling the country." Mr. Carré-Lamadon, more serious, interjected:--"They are repairing." But they could not find the driver. Finally they discovered him in the village Café, fraternizing and drinking with the orderly of the Prussian Officer. The Count interpolated:

--"Didn't you have orders to have the coach ready for eight o'clock?"

--"Oh yes, but I have received other orders since."

--"What orders?"

--"Not to harness the horses at all."

--"Who gave you that order?"

--"Upon my faith, the Prussian Commander."

--"Why?"

--"I don't know. Go and ask him. I am forbidden to harness the horses and I don't; that is all there is to it."

--"Did he tell you so himself?"

--"No. Sir, it is the inn-keeper that gave me the order for him."

--"When did he give it?"

--"Last night, just as I was going to bed!"

The three men became quite alarmed.

They called for Monsieur Follenvie, but the servant told them that on account of his asthma, that gentleman never got up before ten o'clock. He had even left formal orders not to wake him up earlier, except in case of fire.

They wanted to see the officer, but it was absolutely impossible, although he lodged in the inn. Mr. Follenvie only was authorized to speak to him about civil matters. Then they waited. The women went up to their rooms and got busy with their trifles.

Cornudet sat down and made himself comfortable in front of the high fireplace of the kitchen, in which a big fire was blazing. He had one of the small tables of the Café brought there, ordered a jug of beer, and drew out his pipe which, among the democrats, enjoyed a consideration almost equal to his own, as if it had served the country in serving Cornudet. It was a superb meerschaum pipe, admirably blackened, as black as its master's teeth, but fragrant, nicely curved, shining, familiar to his hand, and completing his physiognomy. And he remained still, his eyes fixed now on the flame of the fire, now on the foam crowning his jug; and every time, after he had drunk, he passed, with an air of satisfaction, his thin, long fingers in his flowing greasy hair, while he sucked his mustache fringed with foam.

Loiseau, under pretence of stretching his legs, went out to sell wine to the dealers of the village. The Count and the manufacturer began to talk politics. They were forecasting France's future. The one kept faith in the Orleans dynasty, the other expected an unknown savior, a hero who would rise up when everything was desperate: a Duguseclin, a Jeanne d'Arc perhaps? or another Napoleon the Great?--"Ah! if the Imperial Prince had not been so young!"--Cornudet listening to their conversation, was smiling as a man who holds the keys to destiny.--His pipe perfumed the whole kitchen.

As it was striking ten o'clock, Mr. Follenvie appeared. He was immediately questioned, but he only repeated two or three times, without any variation, the following words:--"The Officer told me so!"--"Monsieur Follenvie, you will forbid the driver to harness up the coach of these travelers to-morrow morning. I don't want them to go without my order. You understand? That is enough!"

Then they wanted to see the Officer. The Count sent in his card on which Mr. Carré-Lamadon added his own name and all his titles. The Prussian sent word that the two men would be admitted to speak to him after he had had his luncheon, that is to say about one o'clock.

The ladies came down, and they all had a bite, in spite of their anxiety. Boule de Suif seemed to be sick and prodigiously worried.

They were finishing their coffee, when the orderly came to call the gentlemen. Loiseau joined the first two, but as they tried to induce Cornudet to go with them in order to add more solemnity to their application, he declared proudly that he expected not to have any intercourse with the Germans; and he resumed his seat near the fire-place, ordering another jug of beer.

The three men went up and were ushered into the finest room of the inn, in which the Officer received them, stretched on an armchair, his feet resting on the mantelpiece, and smoking a long porcelain pipe, wrapped in a flamboyant dressing-robe, no doubt stolen from the abandoned residence of some bourgeois lacking in taste. He did not get up, neither did he greet them nor look at them. He was a magnificent specimen of the insolence natural to victorious soldiers.

After a few seconds, he said in his defective French:

--"What do you want?"

The Count spoke:--"We wish to continue our journey, Sir."

--"No!"

--"May I inquire what is the reason for this refusal?"

--"Because I don't want."

--"I would respectfully call your attention to the fact, Sir, that your General in chief has delivered us a permit to go to Dieppe, and I don't think we did anything to deserve your rigors."

--"I don't want to let you go, that is all; you may retire!"

Having bowed, all three retired.

They spent a wretched afternoon. They could not in any way account for this German's caprice, and the most singular ideas worried their heads. Everybody stayed in the kitchen and there was endless discussion imagining the most unlikely things. Perhaps they wanted to hold them as hostages--but for what object?--or take them away as prisoners? or, rather, demand from them a large ransom? at this thought they became panic-stricken. The wealthiest were the most alarmed, seeing themselves already compelled, in order to redeem their lives, to pour bags of gold into the hands of this insolent soldier. They racked their brains to find plausible and acceptable lies, conceal their wealth, pass themselves off as very poor, very poor. Loiseau took off his watch and chain and hid it in his pocket. The approaching night filled them with apprehension.--The lamp was lighted, and as they still had fully two hours before dinner, Madame Loiseau proposed a game of "trente-et-un." That would be a diversion. They accepted. Even Cornudet, having put out his pipe, joined the party out of politeness.

The Count shuffled the cards and dealt; Boule de Suif had a full thirty-one; and soon the interest in the game quieted the fears that were haunting the minds. But Cornudet noticed that the Loiseau couple had arranged to cheat.

As they were going to sit down to dinner, Mr. Follenvie reappeared, and with his grating voice announced: "The Prussian Officer sends me to ask Mlle. Elizabeth Rousset whether she has changed her mind?"

Boule de Suif stood still, pale as death. Then turning suddenly crimson, she felt so suffocated by anger that she could not speak. Finally she gasped out: "You will please tell that scoundrel, that rascal, that carrion of a Prussian, that I shall never consent; you understand, never, never, never!"

The fat inn-keeper went away. Then Boule de Suif was surrounded, questioned, solicited by everybody to reveal the mystery of her visit. First she resisted, but soon exasperation got the best of her.--"What he wants?...what he wants?.... He wants me to keep company with him," she exclaimed. Nobody was shocked by this revelation, so great was their indignation. Cornudet broke his jug as he banged it down on the table. There was a general clamor of reprobation against the ignoble soldier, a waive of anger, a combination of all for resistance as if each one of the party had been called upon to make the sacrifice demanded of Boule de Suif. The Count declared just like the barbarians in ancient times. The women specially showed Boule de Suif an affectionate and energetic commiseration. The good sisters who showed up only at meal time, had bowed their heads and said nothing.

They dined however as soon as the first furor had abated, but they spoke little.

The ladies retired early; and the men, while smoking, organized a game of écarté and invited Mr. Follenvie to join them, because they wanted to question him skillfully as to the means to be used to overcome the Officer's resistance. but he had his mind concentrated on the cards; he did not hear anything, did not answer anything, and kept on repeating: "Attend to the game, Gentlemen! attend to the game!"--His attention was so tense that he even forgot to expectorate, which produced at times a wheezing in his chest like the sounds of an organ. His whistling lungs gave out every note of the asthmatic scale from the deep and hollow tones up to the shrill crowing of young roosters trying to sing.

He even refused to go up when his wife, overcome with sleep, came to get him. Then she went away all alone, because she was an early riser, getting up with the sun, whereas her husband kept late hours, always ready to spend the night with friends. He called to her:--"Put my eggnog near the fire!"--and continued the game. When the travelers saw that they could not get anything out of him, they announced that it was time to retire, and they all went to bed.

They rose quite early again the next morning with a vague hope, a greater desire to be able to proceed on their journey, and a dread of having to spend another day in this wretched little inn. Alas! the horses remained in the stable, the driver was invisible. Having nothing better to do, they went and wandered around the coach.

Luncheon was very gloomy, and there had developed a general coolness toward Boule de Suif, for night, which brings counsel, had somewhat modified their judgment. They almost bore a grudge against the girl for not having surreptitiously gone to the Prussian Officer to afford a pleasant surprise to her companions when they awoke. Nothing more simple! Beside, who would have suspected it? She might have saved appearances by having the Officer say that he had taken pity on their distress. To her it would have been of little consequence.

But nobody as yet gave expression to such thoughts.

In the afternoon, as they were bored to death, the Count proposed to take a walk around the village. Each one wrapped himself up carefully and the small company set off, with the exception of Cornudet, who preferred to remain by the fire, and the good Nuns who spent their days in Church or at the Parish house.

The cold, growing daily more and more intense, bit mercilessly the nose and ears of the strollers; their feet pained them so much that each step was a torture; and when the country opened up before them, it looked so frightfully dismal under the boundless sheet of white, that they all retraced their steps hastily, with souls frozen and hearts heavy.

The four women walked in front and the three men followed them a little behind.

Loiseau, who understood the situation very clearly, inquired suddenly whether that "wench" was going to keep them much longer in such a place. The Count, always courteous, realized that they could not expect such a painful sacrifice from a woman, and that the offer should originate from her. Monsieur Carré-Lamadon remarked that if the French undertook, as it was rumored, a counter-offensive by way of Dieppe, the battle would certainly be fought in Tôtes. This remark made the other two quite anxious--"How about trying to escape on foot?" suggested Loiseau. The Count shrugged his shoulders:--"That is out of the question in this snow, and with our wives! And furthermore we would be pursued immediately, caught in ten minutes and brought back as prisoners, at the mercy of the soldiers"--That was true. There was silence again.

The ladies talked toilette, but a certain constraint seemed to separate them.

Suddenly the Officer appeared at the end of the street. On the snow that bound the horizon, his tall and wasp-like uniformed figure outlined itself; he walked, knees apart, with that motion particular to soldiers who are anxious not to soil their carefully polished boots.

He bowed as he passed the ladies, and looked scornfully at the men who, it must be said to their credit, had enough dignity not to raise their hats, although Loiseau made a move to take off his headgear.

Boule de Suif blushed red to her ears, and the three married women felt greatly humiliated to have been met by the Officer while they were in the company of this girl whom he had treated so unceremoniously.

Then they spoke of him, of his figure and his face. Madame Carré-Lamadon, who had known many officers and who judged them as a connoisseur, found that this one was not so bad looking after all; she even regretted that he was not French, because he would have made a very handsome husband with whom all the women would have fallen in love.

Once back in the inn, they did not know what to do with themselves. Even acrid words were exchanged about insignificant matters. The silent dinner did not last long and each went upstairs to bed, in the hope of sleeping the time away.

The next morning they came down with tired faces and exasperated tempers. The women hardly spoke to Boule de Suif.

A Church bell began to ring; it was for a baptism. Boule de Suif had a child being brought up by peasants in Yvetot. She did not see it even once a year and never gave it a thought; but the idea of the one that was going to be baptized developed a sudden and violent tenderness for her own and she insisted absolutely on going to the ceremony.

As soon as she was gone, those who remained looked at each other, and drew their chairs closer, for they felt that in the end they had to take some decision.--Loiseau had an inspiration: he suggested that they should propose to the officer to keep Boule de Suif only and let the others go.

Mr. Follenvie undertook again to convey the message, but he came down almost immediately. The German, who knew human nature, had kicked him out of his room. He meant to keep everybody as long as his wishes had not been complied with.

Then the vulgar temper of Madame Loiseau broke loose:--"And yet we are not going to die of old age here! Since it is that vixen's trade to carry it on with all men, I think that she has no right to refuse one rather than another. Imagine, she has taken all that she found in Rouen, even coachmen, yes, Madame, the coachman of the Prefecture; I know it for a fact, because he buys his wine of us. And now that it is a question of getting us out of trouble, she is putting on virtuous airs, the drab! I find that the Officer behaves very well. Possibly he may have abstained for a long time, and here we are three of us whom he certainly would have preferred. But no, he is satisfied with the girl who is public property. He respects married women. Think of it, he is the master here. All that he had to do was to say: 'I want' and he might have taken us by force, with the aid of his soldiers."

The two other women shuddered slightly. The eyes of pretty Madame Carré-Lamadon sparkled, and she grew a little pale as if she felt herself already taken by force by the officer.