The mayor ended up being looking forward to him, seated within an armchair. He had been the notary of the area, a tall, grave guy of pompous message.

“Maitre Hauchecorne,” said he, “this early morning in the Beuzeville road, you had been seen to select up the wallet lost by Maitre Houlbreque, of Manneville.”

The countryman looked over the mayor in amazement frightened currently as of this suspicion which rested on him, he knew not why.

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“I—I picked up that wallet?”

“I swear I do not even understand any such thing about this.”

“I became seen—I? Whom saw me personally?”

“M. Malandain, the harness-maker.”

Then a old guy remembered, comprehended, and, reddening with anger, said:

“Ah! he saw me personally, did he, the rascal? I was seen by him picking right on up this sequence right right here, M’sieu le Maire.”

And fumbling at the end of their pocket, he pulled from it the small end of sequence.

Nevertheless the mayor incredulously shook their mind:

“You will likely not make me think, Maitre Hauchecorne, that M. Malandain, that is a guy whoever word could be relied on, has mistaken this sequence for a wallet.”

The peasant, furious, raised their hand and spat on a lawn beside him as though to attest their good faith, saying:

“For all that, its Jesus’s truth, M’sieu le Maire. There! To my heart’s salvation, we repeat it.”

The mayor proceeded:

You also seemed about for many amount of time in the mud to see if a bit of cash hadn’t fallen from the jawhorse.“After you picked within the item in question,”

The man that is good choking with indignation and fear.

“How can they tell—how can they tell such lies as that to slander a truthful guy! Just how can they?”

Their protestations were in vain; he had been maybe not thought.

He had been met with M. Malandain, whom repeated and sustained their testimony. They railed at the other person for one hour. At his request that is own Maitre had been searched. Nothing ended up being entirely on him.

At final the mayor, much perplexed, delivered him away, warning him which he would notify the general public prosecutor and require purchases.

The news headlines had spread. As he left the mayor’s workplace the old man ended up being surrounded, interrogated by having a fascination that has been severe or mocking, due to the fact situation may be, but into which no indignation joined. And then he started to inform the whole tale for the sequence. They failed to think him. They laughed.

He handed down, buttonholed by every one, himself buttonholing their acquaintances, starting again and again their story along with his protestations, showing their pouches turned in out to show which he had nothing inside them.

They believed to him:

He expanded progressively furious, feverish, in despair at maybe perhaps not being thought, and kept on telling their story.

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The evening arrived. It had been time and energy to go back home. He left with three of their next-door next-door neighbors, to who he pointed out of the destination where he had picked up the sequence, and all sorts of the way in which he chatted of their adventure.

That night he made the round associated with town of Breaute for the intended purpose of telling every one. He came across just unbelievers.

He brooded over it all long night.

The following day, about one in the afternoon, Marius Paumelle, a farm hand of Maitre Breton, the marketplace gardener at Ymauville, came back the wallet as well as its articles to Maitre Holbreque, of Manneville.

This guy stated, indeed, on the road, but not knowing how to read, he had carried it home and given it to his master that he had found it.