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Updated: May 21, 2025
I'll give you a hundred francs, you understand a hundred francs!" The postman turned on his heel and started on his journey. Renardet followed him, out of breath, faltering: "Mederic, Mederic, listen! I'll give you a thousand francs, you understand a thousand francs." The postman still went on without giving any answer.
This abrupt action convinced Mederic that some important secret was at stake and made him resolve to do his duty, cost what it may. So he flung the letter into his bag and fastened it up, with the reply: "No, I can't, Monsieur le Maire. As long as it is for the magistrate, I can't." A dreadful pang wrung Renardet's heart and he murmured: "Why, you know me well.
Mederic went on without stopping, with only this thought in his mind: "My first letter is for the Poivron family, then I have one for Monsieur Renardet; so I must cross the wood." His blue blouse, fastened round his waist by a black leather belt, moved in a quick, regular fashion above the green hedge of willow trees, and his stout stick of holly kept time with his steady tread.
The mayor asked: "What's the matter now, Mederic?" "I found a little girl dead in your wood." Renardet rose to his feet, his face the color of brick. "What do you say a little girl?" "Yes, m'sieu, a little girl, quite naked, on her back, with blood on her, dead quite dead!" The mayor gave vent to an oath: "By God, I'd make a bet it is little Louise Roque!
Renardet said to him: "Good morrow, Mederic." "Good morrow, M'sieu le Maire." "I say, Mederic, I threw a letter into the box that I want back again. I came to ask you to give it back to me." "That's all right, M'sieur le Maire you'll get it." And the postman raised his eyes. He stood petrified at the sight of Renardet's face.
Then he seized the flagstaff and shook it furiously without succeeding in breaking it; then, all of a sudden, like a diver, with his two hands before him, he plunged into space. Mederic rushed forward to his assistance. He saw the woodcutters going to work and called out to them, telling them an accident had occurred. At the foot of the walls they found a bleeding body, its head crushed on a rock.
Renardet said to the doctor: "You know what the trouble is about?" "Yes, a child found dead in the wood by Mederic." "That's quite correct. Come on!" They walked along, side by side, followed by the two men. Their steps made no sound on the moss. Their eyes were gazing ahead in front of them. Suddenly the doctor, extending his arm, said: "See, there she is!"
You are even able to recognize my handwriting. I tell you I want that paper." "I can't." "Look here, Mederic, you know that I'm incapable of deceiving you I tell you I want it." "No, I can't." A tremor of rage passed through Renardet's soul. "Damn it all, take care!
His glance travelled across the meadows, and he perceived a blue spot in the path which wound alongside the Brindille. It was Mederic coming to bring letters from the town and to carry away those of the village. Renardet gave a start, a sensation of pain shot through his breast, and he rushed down the winding staircase to get back his letter, to demand it back from the postman.
Mederic slackened his pace, took off his black cap adorned with red lace, and wiped his forehead, for it was by this time hot in the meadows, though it was not yet eight o'clock in the morning. He had just recovered from the effects of the heat, and resumed his accelerated pace when he noticed at the foot of a tree a knife, a child's small knife.
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