CHAPTER II
SCAUFFLAIRE'S PERSPICACITY.
From the Mayoralty M. Madeleine proceeded to the end of the town, to aFleming called Master Scaufflaer, gallicized into Scaufflaire, who letout horses and gigs by the day. To reach his yard the nearest way wasthrough an unfrequented street, in which stood the house of the parishpriest. The Cur? was said to be a worthy and respectable man, who gavegood advice. At the moment when M. Madeleine came in front of his housethere was only one person in the street, and he noticed the followingcircumstances: M. le Maire, after passing the house, stopped for amoment, then turned back and walked up to the Cur?'s door, which hadan iron knocker. He quickly seized the knocker and lifted it; then hestopped again as if in deep thought, and, after a few seconds, insteadof knocking, he softly let the knocker fall back in its place andcontinued his way with a haste which he had not displayed before.
M. Madeleine found Master Scaufflaire at home and engaged in mending aset of harness.
"Master Scaufflaire", he inquired, "have you a good horse?"
"M. le Maire," the Fleming replied, "all my horses are good. What doyou mean by a good horse?"
"I mean a horse that can cover twenty leagues of ground in a day."
"Harnessed in a gig?"
"Yes."
"And how long will it rest after the journey?"
"It must be in a condition to start again the next morning ifnecessary."
"To return the same distance?"
"Yes."
"Hang it all! and it is twenty leagues?"
M. Madeleine took from his pocket the paper on which he had pencilledthe figures; they were "5, 6, 8 1/2."
"You see," he said, "total, nineteen and a half, or call them twentyleagues."
"M. le Maire," the Fleming continued, "I can suit you. My littlewhite horse--you may have seen it pass sometimes--is an animal fromthe Bas Boulonnais, and full of fire. They tried at first to make asaddle-horse of it, but it reared and threw everybody that got on itsback. It was supposed to be vicious, and they did not know what to dowith it; I bought it and put it in a gig. That was just what it wanted;it is as gentle as a maid and goes like the wind. But you must nottry to get on its back, for it has no notion of being a saddle-horse.Everybody has his ambition, and it appears as if the horse had said toitself,--Draw, yes; carry, no."
"And it will go the distance?"
"At a trot, and under eight hours, but on certain conditions."
"What are they?"
"In the first place, you will let it breathe for an hour half way; itwill feed, and you must be present while it is doing so, to prevent theostler stealing the oats, for I have noticed that at inns oats are morefrequently drunk by the stable-boys than eaten by the horses."
"I will be there."
"In the next place, is the gig for yourself, sir?"
"Yes."
"Do you know how to drive?"
"Yes."
"Well, you must travel alone and without luggage, in order not tooverweight the horse."
"Agreed."
"I shall expect thirty francs a day, and the days of rest paid for aswell,--not a farthing less; and you will pay for the horse's keep."
M. Madeleine took three napoleons from his purse and laid them on thetable.
"There are two days in advance."
"In the fourth place, a cabriolet would be too heavy for such ajourney, and tire the horse. You must oblige me by travelling in alittle tilbury I have."
"I consent."
"It is light, but it is open."
"I do not care."
"Have you thought, sir, that it is now winter?"
M. Madeleine made no answer, and the Fleming continued,--
"That it is very cold?"
Monsieur Madeleine was still silent.
"That it may rain?"
The Mayor raised his head and said,--
"The tilbury and the horse will be before my door at half-past fourto-morrow morning."
"Very good, sir," Scaufflaire answered; then scratching with histhumb-nail a stain in the wood of his table, he continued, with thatcareless air with which the Flemings so cleverly conceal their craft,--
"Good gracious! I have not thought of asking where you are going? Bekind enough to tell me, sir."
He had thought of nothing else since the beginning of the conversation,but somehow he had not dared to ask the question.
"Has your horse good legs?" said M. Madeleine.
"Yes, M. le Maire; you will hold it up a little in going down-hill. Arethere many hills between here and the place you are going to?"
"Do not forget to be at my door at half-past four exactly," M.Madeleine answered, and went away.
The Fleming stood "like a fool," as he said himself a little whileafter. M. le Maire had been gone some two or three minutes when thedoor opened again; it was M. le Maire. He still wore the same impassiveand preoccupied air.
"M. Scaufflaire," he said, "at how much do you value the tilbury andhorse you are going to let me, one with the other?"
"Do you wish to buy them of me, sir?"
"No, but I should like to guarantee them against any accident, and whenI come back you can return me the amount. What is the estimated value?"
"Five hundred francs, M. le Maire."
"Here they are."
M. Madeleine laid a bank note on the table, then went out, and thistime did not come back. Master Scaufflaire regretted frightfully thathe had not said a thousand francs, though tilbury and horse, at a fairvaluation, were worth just three hundred. The Fleming called his wifeand told her what had occurred. "Where the deuce can the Mayor begoing?" They held a council. "He is going to Paris," said the wife. "Idon't believe it," said the husband. M. Madeleine had left on the tablethe paper on which he had written the figures; the Fleming took it upand examined it. "'5, 6, 8 1/2;' why, that must mean post stations." Heturned to his wife: "I have found it out." "How?" "It is five leaguesfrom here to Hesdin, six from there to St. Pol, and eight and a halffrom St. Pol to Arras. He is going to Arras."
In the mean while the Mayor had returned home, and had taken thelongest road, as if the gate of the priest's house were a temptationto him which he wished to avoid. He went up to his bed-room and lockedhimself in, which was not unusual, for he was fond of going to bed atan early hour. Still the factory portress, who was at the same time M.Madeleine's only servant, remarked that his candle was extinguished ata quarter-past eight, and mentioned the fact to the cashier when hecame in, adding,--
"Can master be ill? I thought he looked very strange to-day." Thecashier occupied a room exactly under M. Madeleine's; he paid noattention to the remarks of the portress, but went to bed and fellasleep. About midnight he woke with a start, for he heard in hissleep a noise above his head. He listened; it was a footfall comingand going, as if some one were walking about the room above him. Helistened more attentively, and recognized M. Madeleine's step; and thisseemed to him strange, for usually no sound could be heard from theMayor's room till he rose. A moment later the cashier heard somethinglike a wardrobe open and shut; a piece of furniture was moved, therewas a silence, and the walking began again. The cashier sat up inbed, wide awake, looked out, and through his window noticed on a wallopposite, the red reflection of a lighted window; from the directionof the rays it could only be the window of M. Madeleine's bed-room. Thereflection flickered as if it came from a fire rather than a candle,while the shadow of the framework could not be traced, which provedthat the window was wide open, and this was a curious fact, consideringthe cold. The cashier fell asleep and woke again some two hours after;the same slow and regular footfall was still audible above his head.The reflection was still cast on the wall, but was now pale and quiet,as if it came from a lamp or a candle. The window was still open. Thisis what was occurring in M. Madeleine's bed-room.