John and Charles (springing up). That fellow! No! that will never do! [They sit down at the table, as before, and put on their headdresses, but without seeing that they have taken the wrong ones, John putting on the grey wig and cap,—Charles, the curls and round straw hat. Bom de Sac heard speaking outside the door:]—No, sacré nom de nom! Mijnheer Meyer has lent me a hand. What are people thinking of? It was not for nothing I was wounded eleven times in ten battles, with the 9th Regiment. They are here—I’m certain of that! [Enters.]
Fournichon. Search as much as you like, sir, but remember, if you please, that, in the presence of ladies....
Bom de Sac. Of course, of course! I always said, “Honneur aux dames.” [Looks at the ladies and salutes, then takes a step backward in amazement.] Sacré nom de guerre!
Fournichon. What’s the matter?
Bom de Sac. Have I come to my age—not to speak of twelve wounds in eleven battles—to let myself be fooled like this?
Fournichon. I don’t understand you.
Bom de Sac. No, perhaps not. But I understand how it is possible for these ladies to have changed heads at a moment’s notice. Look here! [He takes off the wigs.] The young lady is getting grey, and the grandmother is going backwards to her childhood. Come with me, now, gentlemen—I arrest you both!
Fournichon. Your own fault, gentlemen. I wash my hands of the whole business.
Charles. We have a word to say to that, John.
John. Certainly.