"One day I determined to hunt the stag in the forest of Chateaubriant; my dogs and huntsmen had been sent out the day before, and I was on my way to the rendezvous, when, on the road before me, I saw an enormous fagot walking along. This did not surprise me, for our peasants carry such enormous fagots, that they quite disappear under their load; but this fagot appeared from behind to move alone. Soon it stopped; an old woman, turning round, showed her face to me. As I approached, I could not take my eyes off her, for I recognized the sorceress of Savernay, who had predicted the misfortune caused by my white pony. "My first impulse, I confess, was to take another road, and avoid the prophetess of evil; but she had already seen me, and she seemed to wait for me with a smile full of malice. I was ten years older than when her first threat had frightened me. I was ashamed to go back. "'Good-day, Viscount de Pontcalec,' said she; 'how is the Marquis de Guer?' "'Well, good woman; and I shall be quite easy about him, if you will assure me that nothing will happen to him during my absence.' "'Ah! ah!' said she laughing; 'you have not forgotten the plains of Savernay. You have a good memory, viscount; but yet, if I gave you some advice, you would not follow it any more than the first time. Man is blind.' "'And what is your advice?' "'Not to go hunting to-day.' "'Why not?' "'And to return at once to Pontcalec.' "'I cannot; I have a rendezvous with some friends at Chateaubriant.' "'So much the worse, viscount, for blood will be spilled.' "'Mine?' "'Yours, and another's.' "'Bah! are you mad?' "'So said your uncle Crysogon. How is he?' "'Do you not know that he died seven years ago at Morlaix?' "'Poor fellow!' said the woman, 'like you, he would not believe: at length he beheld, but it was too late.' "I shuddered involuntarily; but a false shame whispered that it would be cowardly to give way, and that doubtless the fulfillment of the pretended witch's former prediction had been but a chance. "'Ah! I see that a former experience has not made you wiser, my fine fellow,' said she. 'Well, go to Chateaubriant then, since you must have it so, but at least send back that handsome hunting-knife.' "'And with what will monsieur cut the stag's foot?' asked the servant who followed me. "'With your knife,' said the old woman. "'That stag is a royal animal,' replied the servant, 'and deserves a hunting-knife.' "'Besides,' said I, 'you said my blood would flow. What means that?--I shall be attacked, and if so, I shall want it to defend myself.' "'I do not know what it means,' replied the old woman; 'but I do know, that in your place, my brave gentleman, I would listen to a poor old woman, and that I would not go to Chateaubriant; or, if I did go, it would be without my hunting-knife.' "'Do not listen to the old witch, monsieur,' said the servant, who was doubtless afraid to take the fatal weapon.