They even attacked belated peasants, roamed at night outside the houses, howled from sunset to sunrise, and robbed the stables. And soon a rumor began to circulate. People talked of a colossal wolf with gray fur, almost white, who had eaten two children, gnawed off a woman's arm, strangled all the watch dogs in the district, and even come without fear into the farmyards. The people in the houses affirmed that they had felt his breath, and that it made the flame of the lights flicker. And soon a panic ran through all the province. No one dared go out any more after nightfall. The darkness seemed haunted by the image of the beast. The brothers d'Arville determined to find and kill him, and several times they brought together all the gentlemen of the country to a great hunt. They beat the forests and searched the coverts in vain; they never met him. They killed wolves, but not that one. And every night after a battue the beast, as if to avenge himself, attacked some traveller or killed some one's cattle, always far from the place where they had looked for him. Finally, one night he stole into the pigpen of the Chateau d'Arville and ate the two fattest pigs. The brothers were roused to anger, considering this attack as a direct insult and a defiance. They took their strong bloodhounds, used to pursue dangerous animals, and they set off to hunt, their hearts filled with rage. From dawn until the hour when the empurpled sun descended behind the great naked trees, they beat the woods without finding anything. At last, furious and disgusted, both were returning, walking their horses along a lane bordered with hedges, and they marvelled that their skill as huntsmen should be baffled by this wolf, and they were suddenly seized with a mysterious fear. The elder said: “That beast is not an ordinary one. You would say it had a mind like a man.” The younger answered: “Perhaps we should have a bullet blessed by our cousin, the bishop, or pray some priest to pronounce the words which are needed.” Then they were silent. Jean continued: “Look how red the sun is. The great wolf will do some harm to-night.” He had hardly finished speaking when his horse reared; that of Franqois began to kick. A large thicket covered with dead leaves opened before them, and a mammoth beast, entirely gray, jumped up and ran off through the wood. Both uttered a kind of grunt of joy, and bending over the necks of their heavy horses, they threw them forward with an impulse from all their body, hurling them on at such a pace, urging them, hurrying them away, exciting them so with voice and with gesture and with spur that the experienced riders seemed to be carrying the heavy beasts between 4 their thighs and to bear them off as if they were flying. Thus they went, plunging through the thickets, dashing across the beds of streams, climbing the hillsides, descending the gorges, and blowing the horn as loud as they could to attract their people and the dogs.