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.