"Since she has refused you, we are friends once more; for you are no longer my rival." "Your rival?" "Sandis! yes! I do not choose to dissemble any longer. I am in love with your enchanting cousin! Ah! so much in love that it would make me an idiot if that were possible! And with me, I venture to think that she will not say _no_!" Cédrille rubbed his uninjured eye, and stared for several seconds at the long, lank, yellow chevalier, who had declared his love for his pretty cousin; then, without replying, he began to laugh heartily. 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: "Can you think of such a thing, _beaux sires_? it is too late now, a young girl cannot go out at this time of night; the fair Miretta must have abandoned her walk, and you will take her some other time. Meanwhile, taste this _rozolio_, of which my lucky star enabled me to obtain a flask, and which I could not drink in better company!" Passedix hastened to drink the liqueur which had been put before him, not, however, without pausing now and then to smack his lips; Cédrille did the same, stammering: "Ah! jarnigué! that's good! That smacks of all sorts of things; I never drank anything so sweet. What do you call this?" "Our venerable friend has just told you," hiccoughed Passedix, resting his arms on the table. "It's _ro--ro--rozo_----" He was unable to finish the word. In a moment, his head sank on his arms and he fell asleep; Cédrille soon followed his example. Thereupon the Bohemian rose, left the table, and walked hastily from the wine shop. XVI THE NIGHT