"I, I--I picked up that wallet?"

"Yes, you."

"On my word of honor, I didn't even so much as see it."

"You were seen."

"They saw me, me? Who was it saw me?"

"Monsieur Malandain, the harness-maker."

Thereupon the old man remembered and understood; and flushing with
anger, he cried:--

"Ah! he saw me, did he, that sneak? He saw me pick up this string,
look, m'sieu' mayor."

And fumbling in the depths of his pocket, he produced the little piece
of cord.

But the mayor was incredulous and shook his head.

"You won't make me believe, Master Hauchecorne, that Monsieur
Malandain, who is a man deserving of credit, mistook this string for a
wallet."

The peasant, in a rage, raised his hand, spit to one side to pledge
his honor, and said:--