“I am to get the doctor to go back with me.”
“The doctor! Why? Has anybody been hurt?”
“How imprudent! I suppose he rushed into danger as usually.”
The mayor of Sauveterre nearly dropped his candlestick.
“Shot! Twice!” he said. “Where? When? By whom?”
“All I can tell you is this. They have carried him into a little barn that was not on fire yet. There I saw him myself lying on the straw, pale like a linen sheet, his eyes closed, and bloody all over.”
“Our lady,” replied the peasant with an accent of profound veneration, “was in the barn on her knees by the count’s side, washing his wounds with fresh water. The two little ladies were there too.”
“It is a crime that has been committed, I suppose.”
“The count is very passionate, to be sure, quite violent, in fact; but still he is the best and fairest of men, everybody knows that.”
“Oh!” said the peasant eagerly, “she is the saint of saints.”
The mayor tried to come to some conclusion.
“The criminal, therefore, must be a stranger. We are overrun with vagabonds and beggars on the tramp. There is not a day on which a lot of ill-looking fellows do not appear at my office, asking for help to get away.”
“That is what I think. And the proof of it is, that, as I came along, I made up my mind I would first get the doctor, and then report the crime at the police office.”
“Never mind,” said the mayor. “I will do that myself. In ten minutes I shall see the attorney of the Commonwealth. Now go. Don’t spare your horse, and tell your mistress that we are all coming after you.”
In his whole official career M. Seneschal had never been so terribly shocked. He lost his head, just as he did on that unlucky day, when, all of a sudden, nine hundred militia-men fell upon him, and asked to be fed and lodged. Without his wife’s help he would never have been able to dress himself. Still he was ready when his servant returned.
The good fellow had done all he had been told to do, and at that moment the beat of the drum was heard in the upper part of the town.
“Now, put the horse in,” said M. Seneschal: “let me find the carriage at the door when I come back.”
In the streets he found all in an uproar. At every window a head popped out, full of curiosity or terror; on all sides house doors were opened, and promptly closed again.