Borromee went out. Chicot watched him disappear, and then went to the wall and raised a picture, representing Credit killed by bad paymasters, behind which was a hole, through which you could see into the public room. Chicot knew this hole well, for it was his own making.
On looking through, he perceived Borromee, after placing his finger on his lips, as a sign of caution, say something to Bonhomet, who seemed to acquiesce by a nod of the head, after which Borromee took a light, which was always kept burning in readiness, and descended to the cellar. Then Chicot knocked on the wall in a peculiar manner. On hearing this knock, which seemed to recall to him some souvenir deeply rooted in his heart, Bonhomet started, and looked round him. Chicot knocked again impatiently, like a man angry at his first call not being answered.
Bonhomet ran to the little room, and found Chicot standing there upright. At this sight Bonhomet, who, like the rest of the world, had believed Chicot dead, uttered a cry, for he believed he saw a ghost.
"Since when," said Chicot, "has a person like me been obliged to call twice?"
"Oh! dear M. Chicot, is it you or your shade?" cried Bonhomet.
"Whichever it be, since you recognize me, I hope you will obey me."
"Oh! certainly, dear M. Chicot."
"Then whatever noise you hear in this room, and whatever takes place here, do not come until I call you."
"Your directions will be the easier to obey, since they are exactly the same as your companion has just given to me."
"Yes, but if he calls, do not come--wait until I call."--"I will, M.
Chicot."
"Good! now send away every one else from your inn, and in ten minutes let us be as free and as solitary here as if we came to fast on Good Friday."
"In ten minutes, M. Chicot, there shall not be a soul in the hotel excepting your humble servant."
"Go, Bonhomet; you are not changed, I see."
"Oh! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" said Bonhomet, as he retired, "what is about to take place in my poor house?"
As he went, he met Borromee returning from the cellar with his bottles.
We do not know how Bonhomet managed, but when the ten minutes had expired, the last customer was crossing the threshold of the door, muttering:
"Oh! oh! the weather is stormy here to-day; we must avoid the storm."
CHAPTER Lx.x.xI.
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LITTLE ROOM.
When the captain re-entered the room with a basket in his hand containing a dozen bottles, he was received by Chicot with smiles.
Borromee was in haste to uncork his bottles, but his haste was nothing to Chicot"s; thus the preparations did not take long, and the two companions began to drink. At first, as though their occupation was too important to be interrupted, they drank in silence. Chicot uttered only these words:
"Par ma foi! this is good Burgundy."
They drank two bottles in this way; at the third, Chicot raised his eyes to heaven, and said:
"Really, we are drinking as though we wished to intoxicate ourselves."
"It is so good," replied Borromee.
"Ah! it pleases you. Go on, friend; I have a strong head."
And each of them swallowed another bottle. The wine produced on each of them an opposite effect--it unloosened Chicot"s tongue, and tied that of Borromee.
"Ah!" murmured Chicot, "you are silent; then you doubt yourself."
"Ah!" said Borromee to himself, "you chatter; then you are getting tipsy." Then he asked Chicot, "How many bottles does it take you?"
"For what?"
"To get lively."
"About four."
"And to get tipsy?"
"About six."
"And dead drunk?"
"Double."
"Boaster!" thought Borromee, "he stammers already, and has only drunk four. Come, then, we can go on," said he, and he drew out a fifth for Chicot and one for himself.
But Chicot remarked that of the five bottles ranged beside Borromee some were half full, and others two-thirds; none were empty. This confirmed him in his suspicions that the captain had bad intentions with regard to him. He rose as if to fetch his fifth bottle, and staggered as he did so.
"Oh!" said he, "did you feel?"
"What?"
"The earth trembling."
"Bah!"
"Yes, ventre de biche! Luckily the hotel of the Corne d"Abondance is solid, although it is built on a pivot."
"What! built on a pivot?"
"Doubtless, since it turns."
"True," said Borromee, "I felt the effects, but did not guess the cause."
"Because you are not a Latin scholar, and have not read the "De Natura Rerum." If you had, you would know that there is no effect without a cause."
"Well, my dear captain, for you are a captain like me, are you not?"
"Yes, from the points of my toes to the roots of my hair."