, noticing
the white masses of the chateau, with its rising chimneys relieved
against the brilliant red-brown foliage which the trees in Normandy put
on at the close of a fine autumn.

"The ladies are fortunate in their weather," remarked the Duc de
Rhetore.

"Oh, in spite of all their boasting," replied the Prince de Cadignan, "I
think they will let us hunt without them!"

"So they might, if each had not a squire," said the duke.

At this moment the attention of these determined huntsmen--for the
Prince de Loudon and the Duc de Rhetore are of the race of Nimrod, and
the best shots of the faubourg Saint-Germain--was attracted by a loud
altercation; and they spurred their horses to an open space at the
entrance to the forest of Rosembray, famous for its mossy turf, which
was appointed for the meet. The cause of the quarrel was soon apparent.
The Prince de Loudon, afflicted with anglomania, had brought out his own
hunting establishment, which was exclusively Britannic, and placed it
under orders of the Master of the Hunt. Now, one of his men, a little
Englishman,--fair, pale, insolent, and phlegmatic, scarcely able to
speak a word of French, and dressed with a neatness which distinguishes
all Britons, even those of the lower classes,--had posted himself on one
side of this open space. John Barry wore a short frock-coat, buttoned
tightly at the waist, made of scarlet cloth, with buttons bearing the De
Verneuil arms, white leather breeches, top-boots, a striped waistcoat,
and a collar and cape of black velvet. He held in his hand a small
hunting-whip, and hanging to his wrist by a silken cord was a
brass horn. This man, the first whipper-in, was accompanied by two
thorough-bred dogs,--fox-hounds, white, with liver spots, long in the
leg, fine in the muzzle, with slender heads, and little ears at their
crests. The huntsman--famous in the English county from which the
Prince de Loudon had obtained him at great cost--was in charge of an
establishment of fifteen horses and sixty English hounds, which cost the
Duc de Verneuil, who was nothing of a huntsman, but chose to indulge his
son in this essentially royal taste, an enormous sum of money to keep
up.

Now, when John arrived on the ground, he found himself forestalled by
three other whippers-in, in charge of two of the royal packs of hounds
which had been brought there in carts. They were the three best huntsmen
of the Prince de Cadignan, and presented, both in characte