THE SUB-PREFECT 85

He thinks of the grand speech which
he will have to make in a short time
before the inhabitants of Combe-aux-
Fées.

‘Gentlemen and competitors.’

But in vain he twists his silky fair
moustache, and repeats twenty times,

‘Gentlemen and competitors. . . .’
the rest of the speech does not follow.

The rest of the speech will not follow.
It is so hot in the chariot... . Far
as the eye can reach, the dusty road to
Combe-aux-Fées stretches out under
the southern sun. The air is like a
furnace, and on the young elms by the
side of the way, all covered with
white dust, thousands of grasshoppers
call to each other from tree to tree.
Suddenly the Sub-Prefect starts. Down
there, at the foot of a small hill, he
catches sight of a little wood of holm-
oaks that seem to beckon to him.

The little wood of holm-oaks seem
to beckon to him.

‘Pray come here, Monsieur the