She was warmly congratulated.  She was rising in the esteem of her traveling companions, who had not shown themselves as fearless.  And in listening to her, Cornudet had the approving and benevolent smile of an apostle, in the same way as a priest hears a devout person praise God, for long-bearded democrats have the monopoly of patriotism just as the men in cassocks have the monopoly of religion.  He spoke, in his turn, with a dogmatic tone, with the declamatory emphasis learned from proclamations daily posted on the walls, and he winded up with a piece of eloquence in which he condemned masterfully that “scoundrel of Napoleon III.”

But Boule de Suif became angry immediately because she was a partisan of the Bonapartes.  She turned as red as a cherry and stuttering with indignation:—­“I should have like to see you in his place, you and your friends!  It would have been nice, oh yes!  It is you who betrayed the poor man!  If we were ruled by rascals like you, there would remain nothing else to do for us but leave France.”—­Impassive, Cornudet kept a superior and contemptuous smile, but one could feel that big words were impending, when the Count interposed and, not without some difficulty, calmed the exasperated girl by proclaiming authoritatively that all sincere opinions should be respected.  However, the Countess and the wife of the Cotton manufacturer, who bore in their hearts the unreasoning hatred of all decent people for the Republic, and that predilection which all women have for the pomp of despotic Governments, felt irresistibly attracted toward this dignified prostitute whose opinions were very much like theirs.

The basket was empty.  The ten of them had easily consumed its contents, regretting that it was not larger.  The conversation continued for some time, though it flagged since they had finished eating.

The night was falling; darkness gradually grew deeper and deeper, and the cold, felt more during digestion, made Boule De Suif shiver notwithstanding her corpulence.  Then Madame de Breville offered her her foot-warmer, the coal of which had been renewed several times since the morning, and she accepted it willingly, for she felt her feet frozen.  Mesdames Carre-Lamadon and Loiseau gave theirs to the Nuns.

The driver had lighted his lanterns.  They threw a bright gleam on the cloud of vapor rising from the perspiring backs of the rear horses, and on both sides of the road the snow seemed to unroll under the mobile light of the lamps.

Nothing could be distinguished in the coach; suddenly there was a movement between Boule de Suif and Cornudet; and Loiseau, whose eyes scanned the darkness, through that he saw the long-bearded man jump up, as if he had received a noiseless but well aimed blow.

Tiny lights appeared ahead on the road.  It was Totes.  They had traveled eleven hours which, added to the hours of rest given in four times to the horses for feeding and breathing, made fourteen hours.  They entered the town and the coach stopped in front of the Hotel du Commerce.