“Well, what have you got in your ear? A lump of wax?”
“I don't know whether it's wax; but I know that it is a bug, a big bug, that crawled in while I was asleep in the haystack.”
“A bug! Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? As sure as I am of heaven, Monsieur le cure! I can feel it gnawing at the bottom of my ear! It's eating my head for sure! It's eating my head! Oh-oh-oh!” And he began to stamp his foot again.
Great interest had been aroused among the spectators. Each one gave his bit of advice. Poiret claimed that it was a spider, the teacher, thought it might be a caterpillar. He had already seen such a thing once, at Campemuret, in Orne, where he had been for six years. In this case the caterpillar had gone through the head and out at the nose. But the man remained deaf in that ear ever after, the drum having been pierced.
“It's more likely to be a worm,” said the priest.
Maitre Belhomme, his head resting against the door, for he had been the last one to enter, was still moaning.
“Oh—oh—oh! I think it must be an ant, a big ant—there it is biting again. Oh, Monsieur le cure, how it hurts! how it hurts!”
“Have you seen the doctor?” asked Caniveau.
“I should say not!”