Chapter 9

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But they did not find the driver.Finally,they discovered him in a café of the village,sitting at table fraternally with the officer of ordnance.The Count called out to him:

“Were you not ordered to be ready at eight o'clock?”

“Well,yes;but another order has been given me since.”

“By whom?”

“Faith!the Prussian commander.”

“What was it?”

“Not to harness at all.”

“Why?”

“I know nothing about it.Go and ask him.They tell me not to harness,and I don't harness.That's all.”

“Did he give you the order himself?”

“No,sir,the innkeeper gave the order for him.”

“When was that?”

“Last evening,as I was going to bed.”

The three men returned,much disturbed.They asked for Mr.Follenvie,but the servant answered that that gentleman,because of his asthma,never rose be-fore ten o'clock.And he had given strict orders not to be wakened before that,except in case of fire.

They wished to see the officer,but that was absolutely impossible,since,while he lodged at the inn,Mr.Follenvie alone was authorized to speak to him upon civil affairs.So they waited.The women went up to their rooms again and occupied themselves with futile tasks.

Cornudet installed himself near the great chimney in the kitchen,where there was a good fire burning.He ordered one of the little tables to be brought from the café,then a can of beer;he then drew out his pipe,which plays among democrats a part almost equal to his own,because in serving Cornudet it was serving its country.It was a superb pipe,an admirably colored meerschaum,as black as the teeth of its master,but perfumed,curved,glistening,easy to the hand,completing his physiognomy.And he remained motionless,his eyes as much fixed upon the flame of the fire as upon his favorite tipple and its frothy crown;and each time that he drank,he passed his long,thin fingers through his scanty,gray hair,with an air of satisfaction,after which he sucked in his mustache fringed with foam.

Loiseau,under the pretext of streching his legs,went to place some wine among the retailers of the country.The Count and the manufacturer began to talk politics.They could foresee the future of France.One of them believed in an Orléans the other in some unknown savior for the country,a hero who would reveal himself when all were in despair:a Guesclin,or a Joan of Arc,perhaps,or would it be another Napoleon First?Ah!if the Prince Imperial were not so young!

Cornudet listened to them and smiled like one who holds the word of destiny.His pipe perfumed the kitchen.

As ten o'clock struck,Mr.Follenvie appeared.They asked him hurried questions;but he could only re-peat two or three times without variation,these words:

“The officer said to me:‘Mr.Follenvie,you see to it that the carriage is not harnessed for those travelers tomorrow.I do not wish them to leave without my order.That is sufficient.’”

Then they wished to see the officer.The Conut sent him his card,on which Mr.Carré-Lamadon wrote his name and all his titles.The Prussian sent back word that he would meet the two gentlemen after he had lunched,that is to say,about one o'clock.

The ladies reappeared and ate a little something,despite their disquiet.Ball-of-Fat seemed ill and prodigiously troubled.

They were finishing their coffee when the word came that the officer was ready to meet the gentlemen.Loiseau joined them;but when they tried to enlist Cor-nudet,to give more solemnity to their proceedings,he declared proudly that he would have nothing to do with the Germans;and he betook himself to his chimney corner and ordered another liter of beer.

The three men mounted the staircase and were introduced to the best room of the inn,where the officer received them,stretched out in an armchair,his feet on the mantelpiece,smoking a long,porcelain pipe,and enveloped in a flamboyant dressing-gown,appropriated,without doubt,from some dwelling belonging to a common citizen of bad taste.He did not rise,nor greet them in any way,not even looking at them.It was a magnificent display of natural blackguardism transformed into the military victor.

At the expiration of some moments,he asked:“What is it you wish?”

The Count became spokesman:“We desire to go on our way,sir.”

“No.”

“May I ask the cause of this refusal?”

“Because I do not wish it.”

“But,I would respectfully observe to you,sir,that your General-in-chief gave us permission to go to Dieppe;and I know of nothing we have done to merit your severity.”

“I do not wish it—that is all;you can go.”

All three having bowed,retired

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