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Updated: May 17, 2025
The two Sisters had resumed their devotions after carefully wrapping up the remnants of their sausages. Then Cornudet, while digesting his eggs, stretched his long legs under the opposite seat, leaned back, smiled like a man who has just thought of a capital joke, and began to softly whistle the Marseillaise.
Unfortunately, Loiseau could not at first hear what they said; but toward the end of the conversation they raised their voices, and he caught a few words. Cornudet was loudly insistent. "How silly you are! What does it matter to you?" he said. She seemed indignant, and replied: "No, my good man, there are times when one does not do that sort of thing; besides, in this place it would be shameful."
After about half an hour he heard a rustling, and hurrying to the keyhole, he perceived Boule de Suif looking ampler than ever in a dressing-gown of blue cashmere trimmed with white lace. She had a candle in her hand and was going towards the end of the corridor. Then a door at one side opened cautiously, and when she returned after a few minutes, Cornudet in his shirt sleeves was following her.
The other, of sickly appearance, had a pretty but wasted countenance, and a narrow, consumptive chest, sapped by that devouring faith which is the making of martyrs and visionaries. A man and woman, sitting opposite the two nuns, attracted all eyes. The man a well-known character was Cornudet, the democrat, the terror of all respectable people.
He had one of the small tables of the Cafe 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.
They forecast the future of France, the one putting his faith in the Orleans, the other in an unknown savior, a hero who would come to the fore when things were at their very worst a Du Guesclin, a Joan of Arc perhaps, or even another Napoleon I. Ah, if only the Prince Imperial were not so young! Cornudet listened to them with the smile of a man who could solve the riddle of Fate if he would.
Inside the conveyance nothing could be distinguished any longer, but there was a sudden movement between Boule de Suif and Cornudet, and Loiseau, peering through the gloom, fancied he saw the man with the beard start back quickly as if he had received a well-directed but noiseless blow. Tiny points of fire appeared upon the road in front. It was Totes.
She refused at first; but her wrath soon got the better of her. "What does he want? He wants to make me his mistress!" she cried. No one was shocked at the word, so great was the general indignation. Cornudet broke his jug as he banged it down on the table. A loud outcry arose against this base soldier. All were furious.
The two nuns had betaken themselves once more to their prayers, first wrapping the remainder of their sausage in paper: Then Cornudet, who was digesting his eggs, stretched his long legs under the opposite seat, threw himself back, folded his arms, smiled like a man who had just thought of a good joke, and began to whistle the Marseillaise.
Cornudet, Lebrun, and Fargues, the three most influential conspirators in the council, drew a most alarming picture of the state of public affairs; protesting that the Jacobins were flocking in crowds to Paris from all the departments; that they wished to re-establish the revolutionary government, and that a reign of terror would once more desolate the republic, if the council had not the courage and wisdom to prevent its return.
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