Tholomyes, once started, would have found some difficulty in stopping, had not a horse fallen down upon the quay just at that moment.The shock caused the cart and the orator to come to a dead halt.It was a Beauceron mare, old and thin, and one fit for the knacker, which was dragging a very heavy cart.
On arriving in front of Bombarda's, the worn-out, exhausted beast had refused to proceed any further.This incident attracted a crowd.
Hardly had the cursing and indignant carter had time to utter with proper energy the sacramental word, Matin (the jade), backed up with a pitiless cut of the whip, when the jade fell, never to rise again.
On hearing the hubbub made by the passersby, Tholomyes' merry auditors turned their heads, and Tholomyes took advantage of the opportunity to bring his allocution to a close with this melancholy strophe:--"Elle etait de ce monde ou coucous et carrosses[3]
Ont le meme destin;
Et, rosse, elle a vecu ce que vivant les rosses,
L'espace d'un matin!"
[3] She belonged to that circle where cuckoos and carriages share the same fate; and a jade herself, she lived, as jades live, for the space of a morning (or jade).
"Poor horse!" sighed Fantine.
And Dahlia exclaimed:--
"There is Fantine on the point of crying over horses.
How can one be such a pitiful fool as that!"
At that moment Favourite, folding her arms and throwing her head back, looked resolutely at Tholomyes and said:--
"Come, now! the surprise?"
"Exactly.
The moment has arrived," replied Tholomyes."Gentlemen, the hour for giving these ladies a surprise has struck.Wait for us a moment, ladies."
"It begins with a kiss," said Blachevelle.
"On the brow," added Tholomyes.
Each gravely bestowed a kiss on his mistress's brow; then all four filed out through the door, with their fingers on their lips.
Favourite clapped her hands on their departure.