Suddenly another individual, with a sabre, presented himself.
"Your passports?"
It was the field-guard on his rounds, and, at the same instant, the man from the custom-house came up, having hastened through a ravine.
"Take them into custody for me, Père Morin, or the cliff will fall in!"
"It is for a scientific object," replied Pécuchet.
Then a mass of stone fell, grazing them all four so closely that a little more and they were dead men.
When the dust was scattered, they recognised the mast of a ship, which crumbled under the custom-house officer's boot.
Bouvard said with a sigh, "We did no great harm!"
"One should not do anything within the fortification limits," returned the guard.
"In the first place, who are you, in order that I may take out a summons against you?"