About ten o’clock in the evening, just as the doctor was urging Madame de Grandvilain not to admit any more people to her room, and to try to sleep, there was a sudden uproar in the courtyard, and a bright light shone in the windows; then, something as brilliant as lightning shot through the air.
It was the work of Jasmin, who, to celebrate the baptism of his master’s son, had conceived the idea of a display of fireworks in the courtyard, in order to afford the marquis and all his guests a pleasant surprise; and who had just discharged a mortar and then a rocket, to attract everybody to the windows.
In fact, the explosion of the mortar had caused a profound sensation in the house; everyone thought it was the roar of cannon; the mother leaped up in her bed, the child in its cradle, monsieur le marquis in his chair, and all the guests, wherever they were. They gazed at each other with a terrified expression, saying:
“What is it? What a noise! It is cannon! There must be fighting in Paris!”
“Fighting?”
“Great heaven! can it be that the usurper has come back again?”
Remember that this happened in the year 1819, and that in the mansions of Faubourg Saint-Germain, Napoléon was ordinarily referred to as the usurper.
There was a moment of confusion in the salon; some of the men talked of running to arms, others looked about for their hats, the women ran after the men, or prepared to faint, and some talked in undertones, in corners, with young men, whom, up to that time, they had pretended barely to look at.
There are people who make the most of every opportunity and turn every circumstance to advantage. Such people are necessarily those who have the most presence of mind.
Amid the commotion, they heard a shrill voice in the courtyard: