"Not so fast, my dear friend, not so fast! Have mercy on my Parisian legs! Misericorde! I cannot proceed. Do stop! There, my nose is skinned by that last branch! Good--there, my breeches are breaking! For pity's sake, stop!" But to stop was impossible; and I remained silent, having quite enough to do looking out for myself. At length we arrived at the appointed spot. Adolphe, in a state bordering on the crazy, his clothes in shreds, his face and hands bleeding from the thorns, anger in his blood, and perspiration on his brow, his furious eyes looked at me as if I had been the author of his misfortunes. And here a scene would most undoubtedly have ensued, but happily the head _piqueur_ arrived, informing us that the boar was in a thick patch of underwood, about two miles from thence, in which he was supposed to be taking his mid-day _siesta_, and that a number of peasants having headed him on one side, he could not well escape. Our measures were quickly taken. "Serpolet," said I to the _piqueur_, "have you seen the animal?" "At a distance, Monsieur." "What is he like?" "Oh! a tremendous fellow--long legs, enormous head, large tusks, and such a muzzle!--he breaks through everything. A fortunate thing, Monsieur, the dogs were not with us." "Well!" said I to my father, "of course this gentleman is to have the place of honour." "The place of honour!" cried Adolphe, "which is the place of honour?" "Why, the most dangerous to be sure," replied my father, "the third or fourth post from where he breaks cover. The first or second shots seldom kill him; wounded, he continues his course, and, savage and ferocious, generally turns upon the third or fourth _chasseur_, at whom, with lowered head and glaring eye, he charges in full career. Oh! it is then a splendid sight, worth all the journey from Paris! Forward, my lads, forward! Hurrah! for the boar!" "And thus--" groaned Adolphe, with thickened speech, not at all charmed with this description of his onset. "And thus," remarked my father, with a bow of the old _régime_, "you shall be fourth, and you will see the sturdy grunter in all his beauty. Come, my boys! a glass of the cognac all round; then silence, and each to his post. Here, Serpolet, forward with them, and remember, gentlemen, the word of command is 'Prudence and coolness!' Off! and may your stout hearts protect you!" Then filing out from the glade where we had halted, each of us proceeded to his destination, the valiant Adolphe following Serpolet like a dog going to be drowned.