clambered to the remaining places without a word.

The floor was covered with straw, into which the feet sank. The ladies at
the far end, having brought with them little copper foot-warmers heated
by means of a kind of chemical fuel, proceeded to light these, and spent
some time in expatiating in low tones on their advantages, saying over
and over again things which they had all known for a long time.

At last, six horses instead of four having been harnessed to the
diligence, on account of the heavy roads, a voice outside asked: "Is
every one there?" To which a voice from the interior replied: "Yes," and
they set out.

The vehicle moved slowly, slowly, at a snail's pace; the wheels sank into
the snow; the entire body of the coach creaked and groaned; the horses
slipped, puffed, steamed, and the coachman's long whip cracked
incessantly, flying hither and thither, coiling up, then flinging out its
length like a slender serpent, as it lashed some rounded flank, which
instantly grew tense as it strained in further effort.

But the day grew apace. Those light flakes which one traveller, a native
of Rouen, had compared to a rain of cotton fell no longer. A murky light
filtered through dark, heavy clouds, which made the country more
dazzlingly white by contrast, a whiteness broken sometimes by a row of
tall trees spangled with hoarfrost, or by a cottage roof hooded in snow.

Within the coach the passengers eyed one another curiously in the dim
light of dawn.

Right at the back, in the best seats of all, Monsieur and Madame Loiseau,