"So be it.
Well?"
"Does Monsieur le Maire wish to purchase them or me?"
"No; but I wish to guarantee you in any case.
You shall give me back the sum at my return.
At what value do you estimate your horse and cabriolet?"
"Five hundred francs, Monsieur le Maire."
"Here it is."
M. Madeleine laid a bank-bill on the table, then left the room; and this time he did not return.
Master Scaufflaire experienced a frightful regret that he had not said a thousand francs.
Besides the horse and tilbury together were worth but a hundred crowns.
The Fleming called his wife, and related the affair to her. "Where the devil could Monsieur le Maire be going?"
They held counsel together.
"He is going to Paris," said the wife.
"I don''t believe it," said the husband.
M. Madeleine had forgotten the paper with the figures on it, and it lay on the chimney-piece. The Fleming picked it up and studied it. "Five, six, eight and a half?
That must designate the posting relays." He turned to his wife:--
"I have found out."
"What?"
"It is five leagues from here to Hesdin, six from Hesdin to Saint-Pol, eight and a half from Saint-Pol to Arras.
He is going to Arras."↘本↘作↘品↘由↘思↘兔↘在↘線↘閱↘讀↘網↘友↘整↘理↘上↘傳↘
Meanwhile, M. Madeleine had returned home.
He had taken the longest way to return from Master Scaufflaire''s, as though the parsonage door had been a temptation for him, and he had wished to avoid it.