The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3Maupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
"I had been shooting over the waste land in the heart of Brittany for a
week, which borders on the Black Mountain. It is a desolate and wild
country, but it abounds in game. One can walk for hours without meeting
a human being, and when one meets anybody, it is just the same as if one
had not, for the people are absolutely ignorant of French, and when I
got to an inn at night, I had to employ signs to let the people know
that I wanted supper and bed.
"As I happened to be in a melancholy frame of mind at the time, that
solitude delighted me, and my dog's companionship was quite enough for
me, and so you may guess my irritation when I perceived one morning that
I was being followed, absolutely followed, by another sportsman who
seemed to wish to enter into conversation with me. The day before, I had
already noticed him obstructing the horizon several times, and I had
attributed it to the chances of sport, which brought us both to the same
likely spots for game, but now I could not be mistaken! The fellow was
evidently following me, and was stretching his little pair of compasses
as much as he could, so as to keep up with my long strides, and took
short cuts, so as to catch me up at the half circle.
"As he seemed bent upon the matter, I naturally grew obstinate also, and
he spent his whole day in trying to catch me up, while I spent mine in
trying to baffle him, and we seemed to be playing at _hide-and-seek_;
the consequences were, that when it was getting dark, I had completely
lost myself in the most deserted part of the moor. There was no cottage
near, and not even a church spire in the distance. The only land-mark,
was the hateful outline of that cursed man, about five hundred yards
off.
"Of course he had won the game! I should have to put a good face on the
matter, and allow him to join me, or rather I should have to join him
myself, if I did not wish to sleep in the open air and with an empty
stomach, and so I went up to him, and asked my way in a half-surly
manner.
"He replied very affably, that there was no inn in the neighborhood, as
the nearest village was five leagues off, but that he lived only about
an hour's walk off, and that he considered himself very fortunate in
being able to offer me hospitality.
"I was utterly done up, and how could I refuse? So we went off through
the heather and furze; I walking slowly because I was so tired, and he
went tripping along merrily with his legs like a basset hound's, which
seemed untirable.
"And yet he was an old man, and not strongly built, for I could have
knocked him over by blowing on him; but how he could walk, the beast!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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