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."

And he followed the brigadier.

The mayor was waiting for him, seated in his arm-chair. He was the
local notary, a stout, solemn-faced man, given to pompous speeches.

"Master Hauchecorne," he said, "you were seen this morning, on the
Beuzeville road, to pick up the wallet lost by Master Huelbrèque of
Manneville."

The rustic, dumfounded, stared at the mayor, already alarmed by this
suspicion which had fallen upon him, although he failed to understand
it.