monosyllables--yes, no, perhaps. And the worthy mayor gave
himself great pains; he went and came, measured steps, minutely
scrutinized the ground.

There was not at this place more than a foot of water. A mud-bank,
upon which grew some clumps of flags and some water-lilies,
descended by a gentle decline from the bank to the middle of the
river. The water was very clear, and there was no current; the
slippery and slimy mire could be distinctly seen.

M. Courtois had gone thus far in his investigations, when he was
struck by a sudden idea.

"Bertaud," said he, "come here."

The old poacher obeyed.

"You say that you saw the body from your boat?"

"Yes, Monsieur Mayor."

"Where is your boat?"

"There, hauled up to that field."

"Well, lead us to it."

It was clear to all that this order had a great effect upon the man.
He trembled and turned pale under his rough skin, tanned as it was
by sun and storm. He was even seen to cast a menacing look toward