Mederic was recognized as a man of standing and authority, and they
understood that something serious had happened.

As soon as word was brought to Monsieur Renardet, he ordered the postman
to be sent up to him. Pale and out of breath, with his cap in his hand,
Mederic found the mayor seated at a long table covered with scattered
papers.

He was a large, tall man, heavy and red-faced, strong as an ox, and was
greatly liked in the district, although of an excessively violent
disposition. Almost forty years old and a widower for the past six
months, he lived on his estate like a country gentleman. His choleric
temperament had often brought him into trouble from which the magistrates
of Roily-le-Tors, like indulgent and prudent friends, had extricated him.
Had he not one day thrown the conductor of the diligence from the top of
his seat because he came near running over his retriever, Micmac? Had he
not broken the ribs of a gamekeeper who abused him for having, gun in
hand, passed through a neighbor's property? Had he not even caught by the
collar the sub-prefect, who stopped over in the village during an
administrative circuit, called by Monsieur Renardet an electioneering
circuit, for he was opposed to the government, in accordance with family
traditions.

The mayor asked:

"What's the matter now, Mederic?"

"I found a little girl dead in your wood."