f-past four o''clock."
"Of course, Monsieur le Maire," replied Scaufflaire; then, scratching a speck in the wood of the table with his thumb-nail, he resumed with that careless air which the Flemings understand so well how to mingle with their shrewdness:--
"But this is what I am thinking of now:
Monsieur le Maire has not told me where he is going.
Where is Monsieur le Maire going?"
He had been thinking of nothing else since the beginning of the conversation, but he did not know why he had not dared to put the question.
"Are your horse''s forelegs good?" said M. Madeleine.
"Yes, Monsieur le Maire.
You must hold him in a little when going down hill.
Are there many descends between here and the place whither you are going?"
"Do not forget to be at my door at precisely half-past four o''clock to-morrow morning," replied M. Madeleine; and he took his departure.
The Fleming remained "utterly stupid," as he himself said some time afterwards.
The mayor had been gone two or three minutes when the door opened again; it was the mayor once more.
He still wore the same impassive and preoccupied air.
"Monsieur Scaufflaire," said he, "at what sum do you estimate the value of the horse and tilbury which you are to let to me,-- the one bearing the other?"
"The one dragging the other, Monsieur le Maire," said the Fleming, with a broad smile.