turning 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 LXXXI.

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 effe