"Ah," said Rougon in a faint voice, "that's how it is I heard the bullet
whiz past my ear!"
At this, violent emotion came upon the audience. Everybody gazed at
the hero with respectful awe. He had heard a bullet whiz past his ear!
Certainly, none of the other bourgeois who were there could say as much.
Felicite felt bound to rush into her husband's arms so as to work up
the emotion to boiling point. But Rougon immediately freed himself,
and concluded his narrative with this heroic sentence, which has become
famous at Plassans: "The shot goes off; I hear the bullet whiz past my
ear; and whish! it smashes the mayor's mirror."
This caused complete consternation. Such a magnificent mirror, too!
It was scarcely credible! the damage done to that looking-glass almost
out-balanced Rougon's heroism, in the estimation of the company. The
glass became an object of absorbing interest, and they talked about
it for a quarter of an hour, with many exclamations and expressions of
regret, as though it had been some dear friend that had been stricken to
the heart. This was the culminating point that Rougon had aimed at, the
denouement of his wonderful Odyssey. A loud hubbub of voices filled
the yellow drawing-room. The visitors were repeating what they had just
heard, and every now and then one of them would leave a group to ask the
three heroes the exact truth with regard to some contested incident. The
heroes set the matter right with scrupulous minuteness, for they felt
that they were speaking for history!
At last Rougon and his two lieutenants announced that they were expected
at the town-hall.
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