"Monsieur," said Serpolet, "you don't seem used to this fun; let a graybeard and an old huntsman advise you. I have seen the animal--actually seen him--a terrible boar, I promise you, as black as ink, clean legs, and ears well apart,--all true signs of courage. As sure as my name is Serpolet, he will make mince-meat of us--sure to charge. Take my advice, Monsieur; never mind what the gentlemen say about waiting; don't you let him get nearer to you than five-and-twenty paces; if not, in three bounds he will be at you; and in another second you will be opened like an oyster. Take care, Monsieur!"--and, wishing him success, Serpolet joined the beaters, who were waiting, all ready to advance. "What shall we do?" said Adolphe as soon as he was gone. "Do, why, take a look about us." We were in a kind of low, open glade, about eighty paces in length, with an immense oak in the centre--a solitary spot, full of thick rushes, tufts of grass, brambles, and matted roots; in short, just the place that a boar would make his head-quarters. Adolphe accompanied me step by step, examined me from head to foot, and looked in my face as if he would read my every thought. "Well, Adolphe," said I, after I had considered the principal points of our position, "the moment has at length arrived when you must draw your courage from the scabbard; and I hope it will shine like the light, for something tells me you will require it ere long." "I'll tell you what; I beg you will not commence any of your long orations." "If I talk to you now, it is because I shall not be able in a few minutes. Pay attention, therefore, to my instructions. Remain, I advise you, behind this oak, then you will have nothing to fear, and be sure not to leave it. I will place myself at the angle down yonder." "Down there! Why you said you would not leave me for an instant." "Come, come, don't be absurd; the moments are precious; you see I shall only be distant an hundred yards." "An hundred yards! I tell you what--if you go ten yards, I go too." "What! are you afraid? We are alone; come, be frank." "No! I am not afraid, but my nerves are shaken; I am thoroughly done up with the scramble we have had through these woods; and then that rascal Serpolet, who prophesied that I shall be opened like an oyster--you shall not go, for I feel sure that when this brute of a boar makes his appearance, I shall be unable to look him in the face." "My dear friend, I will do as you desire. We have still half an hour to wait; but remember, no imprudence--and if you should see my finger raised, mind, not a word or a sign." As I uttered this apostrophe, a long and harmonious note from the head-keeper's horn, vibrating in the distance, came and died away upon our ears; after which, a confused clamour of voices arose, and as suddenly ceased.