"No," he said.
"The ostler says that he has come to fetch M. le Maire."
"What ostler?"
"M. Scaufflaire's."
This name made him start as if a flash of lightning had passed before his eyes.
"Ah, yes," he repeated, "M. Scaufflaire."
Could the old woman have seen him at this moment, she would have been horrified. There was a lengthened silence, during which he stupidly examined the candle flame and rolled up some of the wax in his fingers. The old woman, who was waiting, at length mustered up courage to raise her voice again.
"M. le Maire, what answer am I to give?"
"Say it is quite right, and that I shall be down directly."