This was the surprise which Monsieur Chambertin had been mysteriously preparing for several days; but he did not expect the surprise that his friend the baron had in reserve for him: the explosion and the demolition of the summer-house had taken place so suddenly, that the couple inside had not even had time to cease their conversation, and it seemed to all the company to be exceedingly animated.
The men laughed, the ladies bit their lips to avoid imitating them. Ménard, who was in the rear of the crowd, called out:
"Pray explain the transparency!"
And Monsieur Chambertin was struck dumb.
All this was the affair of a minute; Dubourg required no longer time to realize what remained for him to do. He had not a sou, he had found a creditor, he could expect nothing from his friend Chambertin except a horsewhipping or a sword-thrust; so it behooved him to leave the house instanter.
The Bengal-lights had gone out; Madame Chambertin had fainted, which was the best thing that she could do. Dubourg took advantage of the smoke which succeeded the bright light; he jumped down into the garden, lost himself in the crowd about the summer-house, seized Ménard, who came running after him, dragged him into a dark path, and ordered him to hold his tongue at the risk of being murdered.
At the end of the path was a little gate leading into the fields; Dubourg opened it and pushed Ménard through, who had no idea where he was, and fancied that their friend Chambertin's house had caught fire. His companion locked the little gate and threw away the key.
"Come," he said, "forward at the double-quick! We have drunk the cup of pleasure, now we must put ourselves on a strict diet; it will do us good. Now is the time for us to say: Non est beatus qui cupida possidet, sed qui negata non cupit."
"Amen!" said Ménard, as he trotted along by his side.