all bored to death, the count
proposed a walk in the neighborhood of the village. Each one wrapped
himself up well, and the little party set out, leaving behind only
Cornudet, who preferred to sit over the fire, and the two nuns, who were
in the habit of spending their day in the church or at the presbytery.

The cold, which grew more intense each day, almost froze the noses and
ears of the pedestrians, their feet began to pain them so that each
step was a penance, and when they reached the open country it looked so
mournful and depressing in its limitless mantle of white that they all
hastily retraced their steps, with bodies benumbed and hearts heavy.

The four women walked in front, and the three men followed a little in
their rear.

Loiseau, who saw perfectly well how matters stood, asked suddenly
"if that trollop were going to keep them waiting much longer in this
Godforsaken spot." The count, always courteous, replied that they could
not exact so painful a sacrifice from any woman, and that the first
move must come from herself. Monsieur Carre-Lamadon remarked that if the
French, as they talked of doing, made a counter attack by way of Dieppe,
their encounter with the enemy must inevitably take place at Totes. This
reflection made the other two anxious.

"Supposing we escape on foot?" said Loiseau.

The count shrugged his shoulders.

"How can you think of such a thing, in this snow? And with our wives?
Besides, we should be pursued at once, overtaken in ten minutes, and
brought back as prisoners at the mercy of the soldiery."

This was true enough; they were silent.

The ladies talked of dress, but a certain constraint seemed to prevail
among them.

Suddenly, at the end of the street, the officer appeared. His tall,
wasp-like, uniformed figure was outlined against the snow which bounded
the horizon, and he walked, knees apart, with that motion peculiar to
soldiers, who are always anxious not to soil their carefully polished
boots.

He bowed as he passed the ladies, then glanced scornfully at the men,
who had sufficient dignity not to raise their hats, though Loiseau made
a movement to do so.

Boule de Suif flushed crimson to the ears, and the three married women
felt unutterably humiliated at being met thus by the soldier in company
with the girl whom he had treated with such scant ceremony.

Then they began to talk about him, his figure, and his face. Madame
Carre-Lamadon, who had known many office