M.Nibor tumbled down, M.Renault and his son, in attempting to help him, were thrown on top of him; Madame Renault, in her turn, was thrown down at the feet of Fougas, and began screaming at the top of her voice.
"Damnation!" said Fougas, straightening himself up as if by a spring, "these scoundrels will suffocate us if some one doesn't squelch them!" His attitude, the glare of his eyes, and, above all, the prestige of the miraculous, cleared a space around him.

One would have thought that the walls had been stretched or that the spectators had slid into one another! "Out of here, every mother's son of you!" cried Fougas, in his fiercest tone of command.

A tumult of cries, explanations, and remonstrances was raised around him; he fancied he heard menaces, he seized the first chair within reach, brandished it like a weapon, drove, hammered, upset the citizens, soldiers, officials, _savants_, friends, sight-seers, commissary of police--everybody, and urged the human torrent into the street with an uproar perfectly indescribable.

This done, he shut the door and bolted it, returned to the laboratory, saw three men standing near Madame Renault, and said to the old lady, softening the tone of his voice: "Well, good mother, shall I serve these three like the others ?" "No! No! No! Be careful!" cried the good old lady.

"My husband and my son, Monsieur, and Doctor Nibor, who has restored you to life." "In that case all honor to them, good mother! Fougas has never violated the laws of gratitude and hospitality.