We were divided into two parties. I was to accompany the one led by the Count of Gramont, while André, with De Marsac, was to take the other. Our enemy was in high spirits. He had borrowed one of André’s horses and to display himself made it cavort and caper about with the glee of a child. I fastened a look on him. I am sure I felt nothing but contempt for a man so vain. I let my eye run from his hat with the feather in it to the spurs upon his boots. The rest of us wore tight-fitting jerkins of smooth leather, but he had on his long black cloak. It struck me as being quite strange. I was beginning to wonder if he had a motive for it when I saw that it was another trick of his, for beneath the skirts I discovered that he had brought along with him his sword! I did not think twice. I slipped from my horse and ran into the hall. In a second I was back again with the weapon which my brother had used only two nights before. I went to André where he was among the others and tugged at his sleeve. “Take this,” I urged. “Later on I’ll tell you the reason why.” With that I was on my horse again. A long loud blast of the horn and we were off. André and De Marsac swerved far to the west. The Count of Gramont and our followers turned towards the south. We were soon in the woods. The dogs ran hither and thither searching for a scent. We rode where the trees were furthest apart lest the branches that hung low might knock us from our saddles. Here and there the ground was soggy, but for the most part we were not troubled with our footing for we followed a road that the woodsmen had made, rough, irregular, to be sure, but known to me and my companions. Deeper and deeper we went into the forest. The smell of moss rose to my nostrils and the odor of logs, rotted on the damp ground. The dogs spread out more and more like a fan, with their noses to the earth, eager and tense. Presently one of them raised his head in the air. He let out a long quivering bark that echoed strangely through the woods. Then the others followed. The whole pack jumped and yelped as though they had suddenly gone mad, and ran heedlessly forward. I was in need of no one to tell me that they had caught the scent and were flying after their prey. Then, after another short while, the sound of a horn floated high through the branches of the trees. It seemed very far away. We rode on and on. The heat of the excitement was showing in our faces. The horses, too, snorted as though they were conscious of the strain. The blast of the horn came again. This time it seemed nearer and more prolonged, with a quivering at the end that sounded like jubilation. “They’ve stirred the boar,” the old Count said to me, turning in his saddle, and with a motion of his hand he gave the signal to one of his followers to answer with a returning blast.