to the Nuns.

The driver had lighted his lanterns. They threw a bright gleam
on the cloud of vapor rising from the perspiring backs of the rear
horses, and on both sides of the road the snow seemed to unroll
under the mobile light of the lamps.

Nothing could be distinguished in the coach; suddenly there was
a movement between Boule de Suif and Cornudet; and Loiseau, whose
eyes scanned the darkness, through that he saw the long-bearded
man jump up, as if he had received a noiseless but well aimed blow.

Tiny lights appeared ahead on the road. It was Totes. They had
traveled eleven hours which, added to the hours of rest given in
four times to the horses for feeding and breathing, made fourteen
hours. They entered the town and the coach stopped in front of
the Hotel du Commerce.

The door of the coach opened. A well known noise startled all
the passengers; it was the clanging of a scabbard on the pavement.
Then the voice of a German called out something.

Although the coach was at a standstill, nobody got off, as if they
were expecting to be massacred the moment they left the coach.
Then the driver appeared, holding in his hand one of his lanterns
which suddenly lighted the interior of the coach and shoed two rows
of frightened faces, whose mouths were agape and eyes wide open in
surprise and terror.

Beside the driver, in full light, stood a German Officer, a tall