370 Les Miserables
M. Madeleine found Master Scaufflaire at home, engaged
in stitching a harness over.
‘Master Scaufflaire,’ he inquired, ‘have you a good
horse?’
‘Mr. Mayor,’ said the Fleming, ‘all my horses are good.
What do you mean by a good horse?’
‘I mean a horse which can travel twenty leagues in a
day.’
‘The deuce!’ said the Fleming. ‘Twenty leagues!’
‘ Ye s .’
‘Hitched to a cabriolet?’
‘ Ye s .’
‘And how long can he rest at the end of his journey?’
‘He must be able to set out again on the next day if nec-
essary.’
‘To traverse the same road?’
‘ Ye s .’
‘The deuce! the deuce! And it is twenty leagues?’
M. Madeleine drew from his pocket the paper on which
he had pencilled some figures. He showed it to the Fleming.
The figures were 5, 6, 8 1/2.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘total, nineteen and a half; as well say
twenty leagues.’
‘Mr. Mayor,’ returned the Fleming, ‘I have just what you
want. My little white horse—you may have seen him pass
occasionally; he is a small beast from Lower Boulonnais. He
is full of fire. They wanted to make a saddle-horse of him at
first. Bah! He reared, he kicked, he laid everybody flat on
the ground. He was thought to be vicious, and no one knew