Malandain, standing in his doorway, began to laugh as he saw him pass. For what?
He accosted a farmer of Criquetot who did not permit him to finish, but, landing him a thump in the pit of the stomach, cried in his face, "Get out, you great rogue!" Then he turned on his heel.
Master Hauchecorne, altogether abashed, grew more and more disturbed. Why had he been dubbed "a great rogue?"
When seated at table in Jourdain's tavern, he again began to explain the particulars.
A Montvilliers horse-dealer yelled at him:
"Don't tell me, you old fox! I know your piece of string yarn!"
Hauchecorne stammered, "B—b—but it's found, the pocket-book!"
To which the other retorted:
"That'll do, daddy! There's one who finds, and another who gives up. Neither is no one the wiser."
The peasant was choked off. At last he understood. They accused him of having had the pocket-book returned by a crony—by an accomplice.