“Aha!” he cried, “you have made a nice mess of it, you dirty, shameless wretch! Here are the prefect and the general sending deputations. And the corporation in the dead man’s town sends a policeman, just as if it was serving a writ. With your devil of a brain you’ll have a fine score to pay!” And he spat on the ground as a sign of contempt. “I am not answerable to you for anything,” murmured the schoolmaster with a dignified air. “Yes, you are. And what about you, Mayor? Have you nothing to say?” In his rage he had no respect for anyone. Simon was obliged to intervene. “You gave us bad advice, Mr. Professor,” he said. “That’s certain,” added Randon. “You need not have asked my advice.” “Who asked your advice?” retorted Détraz, in a fresh access of fury. “You mixed yourself up in our affairs only to bring them to ruin, you poisonous ruffian. That’s what you are, a poisonous ruffian!” So pleased was he with the expression that he repeated it. Randon took him by the arm and tried to calm him and lead him away. But it is the way of the ignorant--as it is of women--to introduce irrelevant arguments into a quarrel. Détraz wheeled round again on the schoolmaster to shout: “Besides, you steal the public money!” “I steal?” protested Maillard. “Yes, you exact private fees for the right of cutting firewood, for receiving affidavits, for everything, in fact. We’ll see the last of you, or I’ll have your skin.” In his rage, he showed the instinctive hatred of the primitive nature for knowledge and of the taxpayer for the official. The two enemies fell upon each other. The Mayor held Maillard back and Randon restrained his colleague. “Listen to me,” begged the old man, “listen to me.” There was a pause while he made a suggestion, which met with the approval of both the Mayor and Détraz and brought the discussion to an end. “To make up for what you have done, Maillard, you must take your pupils to the memorial service.” And the Mayor, anxious to take the credit of the victory to himself, added: “And you must hoist the flag on the town hall at once, at half mast.” He departed with an important air, still escorted by his two councillors. “Now,” said Randon, “let us go up to Le Maupas.” Simon applauded heartily. “Yes, yes,” he cried. “The General sent an officer and the prefect a young gentleman with silver lace on his trousers. The Mayor will be represented in person with two members of the council, as it should be. That will impress them.” As they passed through the village they noticed Pitet, the Red, in a field. He was looking very humble, and avoided their eyes. Détraz called out to him, without managing to attract his attention. “He is a coward,” said the Mayor, full of courage himself. “We know what we know,” said Randon mysteriously.