water--does he take hold of their clothes?" "No, I leave them in the
cabin, when I am obliged to go ashore, and he stands at the door and
barks and won't let them come out." While I was talking to her I heard
a shot, and realised that the poor stag had been finished at last. It
was early in the afternoon--three o'clock, and I suggested that the
whole chasse should adjourn to the chateau for gouter. This they
promptly accepted, and started off to find their horses. Then I had
some misgivings as to what I could give them for gouter. We were a
small party, mostly women and children. W. was away, and I thought
that probably the chef, who was a sportsman as well as a cook, was
shooting (he had hired a small chasse not far from us); I had told him
there was nothing until dinner. I had visions of twenty or thirty
hungry men and an ordinary tea-table, with some thin bread and butter,
a pot of damson jam, and some sables, so I sent off Francis's tutor,
the stable-boy, and the gardener's boy to the chateau as fast as their
legs could carry them, to find somebody, anybody, to prepare us as
much food as they could, and to sacrifice the dinner at once, to make
sandwiches--tea and chocolate, of course, were easily provided.

We all started back to the house up the steep, muddy path, some of the
men with us leading their horses, some riding round by Marolles to
give orders to the breaks and various carriages to come to the
chateau. The big gates were open, Hubert there to arrange at once for
the accommodation of so many horses and equipages, and the billiard
and dining-rooms, with great wood-fires, looking most comfortable. The
chasseurs begged not to come into the drawing-room, as they were
covered with mud, so they brushed off what they could in the hall, and
we went at once to the gouter. It was funny to see our quiet
dining-room invaded by such a crowd of men, some red-coated, some
green, all with breeches and high muddy boots. The master of hounds,
M. Menier, proposed to make the curee on the lawn after tea, which I
was delighted to accept. We had an English cousin staying with us who
knew all about hunting in her own country, but had never seen a French
chasse a courre, and she was most keen about it. The gouter was very
creditable. It seems that they had just caught the chef, who had been
attracted by the unusual sounds and bustle on the hillside, and who
had also come down to see the show. He promptly grasped the situation,
hu