Master Scaufflaire experienced a frightful regret that he had not said
a thousand francs. Besides the horse and tilbury together were worth
but a hundred crowns.
The Fleming called his wife, and related the affair to her. “Where the
devil could Monsieur le Maire be going?” They held counsel together.
“He is going to Paris,” said the wife. “I don’t believe it,” said the
husband.
M. Madeleine had forgotten the paper with the figures on it, and it lay
on the chimney-piece. The Fleming picked it up and studied it. “Five,
six, eight and a half? That must designate the posting relays.” He
turned to his wife:—
“I have found out.”
“What?”
“It is five leagues from here to Hesdin, six from Hesdin to Saint-Pol,
eight and a half from Saint-Pol to Arras. He is going to Arras.”
Meanwhile, M. Madeleine had returned home. He had taken the longest way
to return from Master Scaufflaire’s, as though the parsonage door had
been a temptation for him, and he had wished to avoid it. He ascended
to his room, and there he shut himself up, which was a very simple act,
since he liked to go to bed early. Nevertheless, the portress of the
factory, who was, at the same time, M. Madeleine’s only servant,
noticed that the latter’s light was extinguished at half-past eight,
and she mentioned it to the cashier when he came home, adding:—
“Is Monsieur le Maire ill? I thought he had a rather singular air.”
This cashier occupied a room situated directly under M. Madeleine’s
chamber. He paid no heed to the portress’s words, but went to bed and
to sleep. Towards midnight he woke up with a start; in his sleep he had
heard a noise above his head. He listened; it was a footstep pacing
back and forth, as though some one were walking in the room above him.
He listened more attentively, and recognized M. Madeleine’s step. This
struck him as strange; usually, there was no noise in M. Madeleine’s
chamber until he rose in the morning. A moment later the cashier heard
a noise which resembled that of a cupboard being opened, and then shut
again; then a piece of furniture was disarranged; then a pause ensued;
then the step began again. The cashier sat up in bed, quite awake now,
and staring; and through his window-panes he saw the reddish gleam of a
lighted window reflected on the opposite wall; from the direction of
the rays, it could only come from the window of M. Madeleine’s chamber.
The reflection wavered, as though it came rather from a fire which had
been lighted than from a candle. The shadow of the window-frame was not
shown, which indicated that the window was wide open. The fact that
this window was open in such cold weather was surprising. The cashier
fell asleep again. An hour or two later he waked again. The same step
was still passing slowly and regularly back and forth overhead.
The reflection was still visible on the wall, but now it was pale and
peaceful, like the reflection of a lamp or of a candle. The window was
still open.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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