“What tilbury?”

“Did not Monsieur le Maire order a tilbury?”

“No,” said he.

“The coachman says that he has come for Monsieur le Maire.”

“What coachman?”

“ M. Scaufflaire’s coachman.”

“ M. Scaufflaire?”

That name sent a shudder over him, as though a flash of lightning had passed in front of his face.