Having finished his long tattoo, the public crier shouted in a jerky
voice, making his pauses in the wrong places:--
"The people of Goderville, and all those present at the market are
informed that between--nine and ten o'clock this morning on the
Beuzeville--road, a black leather wallet was lost, containing five
hundred--francs, and business papers. The finder is requested to carry
it to--the mayor's at once, or to Master Fortune Huelbreque of
Manneville. A reward of twenty francs will be paid."
Then he went away. They heard once more in the distance the muffled
roll of the drum and the indistinct voice of the crier.
Then they began to talk about the incident, reckoning Master
Houlbreque's chance of finding or not finding his wallet.
And the meal went on.
They were finishing their coffee when the corporal of gendarmes
appeared in the doorway.
He inquired:--
"Is Master Hauchecorne of Breaute here?"
Master Hauchecorne, who was seated at the farther end of the table,
answered:--
"Here I am."
And the corporal added:--
"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.
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