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Updated: July 11, 2025
Renardet said to him: "Good-morrow, Mederic." "Good-morrow, Monsieur 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, Monsieur le Maire you'll get it." And the postman raised his eyes. He stood petrified at the sight of Renardet's face.
The doctor and the curé went to their respective homes, while Renardet, after a long walk through the meadows, returned to the wood where he remained walking till nightfall with slow steps, his hands behind his back. He went to bed early, and was still asleep next morning when the examining magistrate entered his room. He rubbed his hands together with a self-satisfied air. He said: "Ha! ha!
Renardet reached the tall trees and began to walk over the moss where the Brindille produced a slight freshness of the air beneath the immense roof of branches. But he felt ill at ease. It seemed to him that an unknown, invisible hand was strangling him, and he scarcely thought of anything, having usually few ideas in his head.
Renardet, standing up, his head bare, gazed at the vast tract of country before him, the meadows to the left and to the right the village whose chimneys were beginning to smoke in preparation for the morning meal. At his feet he saw the Brindille flowing amid the rocks, where he would soon be crushed to death. He felt new life on that beautiful frosty morning.
Night came on, and Renardet was still strolling slowly under the trees; then, when the darkness prevented him from walking any longer, he would go back to the house and sink into his armchair in front of the glowing hearth, stretching his damp feet toward the fire. One morning an important bit of news was circulated through the district; the mayor was having his wood cut down.
To the right, behind the stables, the outhouses and all the buildings connected with the property, might be seen the village, which was wealthy, being mainly inhabited by cattle breeders. Renardet slowly descended the steps in front of his house, and, turning to the left, gained the water's edge, which he followed at a slow pace, his hand behind his back.
Thereupon Renardet, losing his head, caught hold of the postman's arms in order to take away his bag; but, freeing himself by a strong effort, and springing backward, the letter carrier raised his big holly stick. Without losing his temper, he said emphatically: "Don't touch me, Monsieur le Maire, or I'll strike. Take care, I'm only doing my duty!"
He saw the Mayor re-entering his own house, and he waited still as if something astonishing was about to happen. In fact, presently the tall form of Renardet appeared on the summit of the Fox's tower. He ran round the platform, like a madman.
The Mayor asked: "What's the matter now, Mederic?" "I found a little girl dead in your wood." Renardet rose up, with his face the color of brick. "Do you say a little girl?" "Yes, m'sieur, a little girl, quite naked, on her back, with blood on her, dead quite dead!" The Mayor gave vent to an oath: "My God, I'd make a bet 'tis little Louise Roqué!
Renardet reached the tall trees, and began to walk over the moss where the Brindelle sent forth a slight, cool vapor under the immense roof of trees. But he felt ill at ease. It seemed to him that an unknown, invisible hand, was squeezing his neck, and he scarcely thought of anything, having usually few ideas in his head.
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