"I declare, I wish I had some broth," interrupted Mademoiselle Athénaïs, in a shrill voice, with her head out of the coach door; "I always take my broth at five o'clock."
"We have had nothing since morning," cried all the travellers.
"Get in, gentlemen," called out the conductor; "one hour's delay may prevent us from reaching there. You can't joke with an overflow, and I don't want my coach drowned."
"Drowned!" cried Mademoiselle Athénaïs's. "Why, this is horrible. You shall be informed against, conductor! I demand that you leave the valley. Why don't you answer me, conductor? I will complain to your chief."
The diligence starting, cut the old lady's sentence in two, so she fell back in her corner with an exclamation of dissatisfaction.
Jacques Grugel felt himself obliged to tell her that the route they were taking would lead them away from the Saône and avoid the danger.
"But where will I get my soup?" inquired she, slightly reassured.
"We will not stop till we reach Anse," resumed Lepré; "the conductor has said so, and God only knows what kind of roads we will meet with. Roads of the department; that says everything. And then I know the engineer, a talented man; his son was married the same day as my eldest. But we won't arrive till to-morrow, mark my words."
There was a general cry from the passengers. They had eaten nothing since morning, calculating on the lunch usually obtained at Villefranche, and Gontran had already proposed, with his usual vivacity, to make a descent on the first village and force them to serve up a supper, when the cattle-merchant cried out: