"Master Hauchecorne, will you be kind enough to go to the mayor's
office with me? Monsieur the mayor would like to speak to you."
The peasant, surprised and disturbed, drank his _petit verre[6]_ at one
swallow, rose, and even more bent than in the morning, for the first
steps after each rest were particularly painful, he started off,
repeating:—
"Here I am, here I am."
And he followed the brigadier.
The mayor was waiting for him, seated in his arm-chair. He was the
local notary, a stout, solemn-faced man, given to pompous speeches.
"Master Hauchecorne," he said, "you were seen this morning, on the
Beuzeville road, to pick up the wallet lost by Master Huelbrèque of
Manneville."
The rustic, dumfounded, stared at the mayor, already alarmed by this
suspicion which had fallen upon him, although he failed to understand
it.
"I, I—I picked up that wallet?"
"Yes, you."
"On my word of honor, I didn't even so much as see it."
"You were seen."
"They saw me, me? Who was it saw me?"
"Monsieur Malandain, the harness-maker."
Thereupon the old man remembered and understood; and flushing with
anger, he cried:—
"Ah! he saw me, did he, that sneak? He saw me pick up this string,
look, m'sieu' mayor."
And fumbling in the depths of his pocket, he produced the little piece
of cord.
But the mayor was incredulous and shook his head.
"You won't make me believe, Master Hauchecorne, that Monsieur
Malandain, who is a man deserving of credit, mistook this string for a
wallet."
The peasant, in a rage, raised his hand, spit to one side to pledge his
honor, and said:—
"It's God's own truth, the sacred truth, all the same, m'sieu' mayor. I
say it again, by my soul and my salvation."
"After picking it up," rejoined the mayor, "you hunted a long while in
the mud, to see if some piece of money hadn't fallen out."
The good man was suffocated with wrath and fear.
"If any one can tell—if any one can tell lies like that to ruin an
honest man! If any one can say—"
To no purpose did he protest; he was not believed.
He was confronted with Monsieur Malandain, who repeated and maintained
his declaration. They insulted each other for a whole hour. At his own
request, Master Hauchecorne was searched. They found nothing on him. At
last the mayor, being sorely perplexed, discharged him, but warned him
that he proposed to inform the prosecuting attorney's office and to ask
for orders.
The news had spread. On leaving the mayor's office, the old man was
surrounded and questioned with serious or bantering curiosity, in
which, however, there was no trace of indignation. And he began to tell
the story of the string. They did not believe him. They laughed.
He went his way, stopping his acquaintances, repeating again and again
his story and his protestations, showing his pockets turned inside out,
to prove that he had nothing.