xpertness of an experienced huntsman; for, unheeding the
danger, he rode up to the tremendous animal, which was defending itself
with fury against the dogs, and struck him with his boar spear; yet, as
the horse shied from the boar, the blow was not so effectual as either
to kill or disable him. No effort could prevail on the horse to charge a
second time; so that the King, dismounting, advanced on foot against
the furious animal, holding naked in his hand one of those short, sharp,
straight, and pointed swords, which huntsmen used for such encounters.
The boar instantly quitted the dogs to rush on his human enemy, while
the King, taking his station, and posting himself firmly, presented the
sword, with the purpose of aiming it at the boar's throat, or rather
chest, within the collarbone; in which case, the weight of the beast,
and the impetuosity of its career, would have served to accelerate its
own destruction. But, owing to the wetness of the ground, the King's
foot slipped, just as this delicate and perilous manoeuvre ought to
have been accomplished, so that the point of the sword encountering the
cuirass of bristles on the outside of the creature's shoulder, glanced
off without making any impression, and Louis fell flat on the ground.
This was so far fortunate for the Monarch, because the animal, owing to
the King's fall, missed his blow in his turn, and in passing only rent
with his tusk the King's short hunting cloak, instead of ripping up his
thigh. But when, after running a little ahead in the fury of his course,
the boar turned to repeat his attack on the King at the moment when he
was rising, the life of Louis was in imminent danger. At this critical
moment, Quentin Durward, who had been thrown out in the chase by the
slowness of his horse, but who, nevertheless, had luckily distinguished
and followed the blast of the King's horn, rode up, and transfixed the
animal with his spear.

The King, who had by this time recovered his feet, came in turn to
Durward's assistance, and cut the animal's throat with his sword. Before
speaking a word to Quentin, he measured the huge creature not only by
paces, but even by feet--then wiped the sweat from his brow, and the
blood from his hands--then took off his hunting cap, hung it on a bush,
and devoutly made his orisons to the little leaden images which it
contained--and at length, looking upon Durward, said to him, "Is it
thou, my young Scot?--Thou hast begun thy woodcraft