“Do not forget to be at my door at precisely half-past four o’clock tomorrow morning,” replied M. Madeleine; and he took his departure.

The Fleming remained “utterly stupid,” as he himself said some time afterwards.

The mayor had been gone two or three minutes when the door opened again; it was the mayor once more.

He still wore the same impassive and preoccupied air.

“Monsieur Scaufflaire,” said he, “at what sum do you estimate the value of the horse and tilbury which you are to let to me⁠—the one bearing the other?”

“The one dragging the other, Monsieur le Maire,” said the Fleming, with a broad smile.

“So be it. Well?”

“Does Monsieur le Maire wish to purchase them or me?”