This outburst of hilarity seemed to displease Passedix, who said:
"What are you laughing at, young countryman? I am not fond of having anyone laugh at me without telling me why, capédébious! I am your friend, but you must not presume upon the rights which that title gives you."
"Seigneur chevalier," said the Bohemian, "you seem to me to forget at this moment that this young man is the kinsman of the woman you love."
"You are right, venerable old man.—Your hand, Cédrille; no quarrel between us! I drink to your health!"
"Ah! jarni!" cried the Béarnais peasant, putting his hand to his brow. "I remember now—and it had gone entirely out of my head!"
"What, my fine fellow?"
"My cousin told me that she would look for me this evening, at dusk, to take her to Rue Saint-Jacques, to Master Hugonnet's bath keeper, whose daughter came to our assistance this morning during that infernal battle."
"What, little cousin! pretty Miretta makes an appointment with you, and you forget it!—Mordioux! if she had said that to me! But perhaps it is not too late; let us go there."
Passedix tried to rise, as did Cédrille, but neither of them was able to stand on his legs, and they fell back heavily on their chairs.
Meanwhile, the Bohemian had taken from beneath his cloak a small phial filled with a reddish liquid, from which he poured into his companions' goblets, pretended to put some into his own glass, and took it up, saying: