The peasant, furious, raised his hand, spit, to attest his innocence, and declared:
"Yet it's the truth of God, the sacred truth, m'sieu mayor. On my soul and my salvation, I repeat it."
The mayor continued:
"After picking up the object you went on searching in the mud a long time to see if some piece of money mightn't have escaped you."
The old man gasped with indignation and fear.
"May one tell—may one tell lies like that to injure an honest man? May one say—"
His protest was vain. He was not believed. He was confronted with Monsieur Malandin, who repeated and sustained his former affirmation. For an hour the two men hurled insults at each other. Hauchecorne was searched, at his demand, and nothing was found on him. Finally the mayor, greatly perplexed, sent him away, warning him that he should inform the council and await orders.
The news spread. When he came out of the town hall the old man was surrounded and questioned with a curiosity serious or mocking, but with no ill-will in it.
He began to recount the story of the string, but no one believed him—they only laughed.
He went on, stopped by everybody, stopping his acquaintances, beginning anew his tale and his protestations, turning his pockets inside out to prove that he had nothing.