Now Coucou approached the companion, but the noise woke Madame Caraman, and uttering a half-suppressed shriek she jumped up and looked drowsily at the intruder. She recognized only the form of a man, and instinctively grasping after the first object at hand, she took hold of the work-basket and threw it with all her might at the Zouave. The basket hit Coucou's head and clapped itself like a helmet over his face, while the wool skeins became entangled in his hair, tickling his nose and causing a violent cough and continual sneezing.
The lady now first recognized the brave Jackal, and considering the awkward situation he was placed in, she could not help bursting into a loud laugh. In vain Coucou tried to rid himself of the wool threads; he coughed and sneezed uninterruptedly, and the basket seemed to cling more tightly to his face. At length the French lady took pity on him and helped him to remove the basket, and then in a voice of merriment which she could not suppress she said:
"Well, Monsieur Jackal, you will perhaps tell me what induced you to come here?"
Coucou was ready to answer, but the wool threads prevented him, and while Madame Caraman again broke out laughing, and Clary, below in the garden, suffered from suffocation, because she felt obliged to suppress her laughter in order not to betray her presence, the Zouave breathlessly gasped:
"One—drop—of water—I suffocate!"
Madame Caraman was not cruel. She handed the Jackal a glassful of water, and as the cough would not stop, she took from the sideboard a bottle filled with cordial and offered it to the soldier with these words:
"There, drink a drop, you big scamp, and then explain your presence here."
The Zouave cast a grateful glance at the lady and took a long draught out of the bottle.
"Sapristi!" he then exclaimed, smacking his tongue, "that is an excellent drop!"
"Bah, never mind the drop now, but answer my question," rejoined the lady. "What are you looking for here?"