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.”

“Well, then, my dear captain, tell me, since there is no effect without a cause, as you say, what was the cause of your disguise?”

“What disguise?”

“That which you wore when you came to visit Dom Modeste.”

“How was I disguised?”

“As a bourgeois.”

“Ah! true.”

“Will you tell me?”

“Willingly, if you will tell me why you were disguised as a monk.  Confidence for confidence.”