"
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.
They said to him:--
"You old rogue, _va!_"
And he lost his temper, lashing himself into a rage, feverish with
excitement, desperate because he was not believed, at a loss what to
do, and still telling his story. Night came. He must needs go home. He
started with three neighbors, to whom he pointed out the place where
he had picked up the bit of string: and all the way he talked of his
misadventure.
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