the time I
saw and knew that Francezka had reason to be wretched with Gaston
Cheverny as he now was.

I left the room, and did not again see Francezka until that evening
when there was a masked ball for the king.

CHAPTER XXX

THE BOAR HUNT

It was bruited about the castle that Madame Cheverny was ill and could
not appear, which did not in the least surprise me, after our
interview that afternoon. In the midst of the ball, however, Francezka
appeared, perfectly radiant, and repeated her triumphs of the night
before. I hoped from this that our conversation had dissipated all
those strange ideas concerning Gaston which had lodged in her mind.

If Francezka was admired by the men, Gaston certainly succeeded in
captivating the ladies. Many of them declared that any woman could
have been faithful to a man as charming, as witty, as gallant, as
Gaston Cheverny. The king retired from the ball at midnight; he had
grown lazy by that time, but the gentlemen and the "flying squadrons"
kept going for two hours more, although they had to rise at daylight,
to go upon a great boar hunt, and this was the second day and night
they had been pleasure-driven. Francezka was among the last to leave
the ball room, and if a sparkling face and smiles and laughter are any
indication of a heart at ease, Francezka was a happy woman. But she
was, also, a consummate actress.

Next morning, daybreak saw us assembled in the courtyard. The hunting
of the wild boar is serious business. There is a song about the

--firm seat and eagle eye
He must acquire who would aspire
To see the wild boar die.

For my part, I dread to see many men and any woman take part in this
dangerous sport. I especially wished that Gaston Cheverny, with his
infirm right arm, and Francezka, with her adventurous spirit, should
not be of the hunting party; but I had no doubt they would be, and my
apprehension was verified; for both of them were in the great
courtyard when the company was mustered.

The king, being lazy and brave--for most lazy men are brave--frankly
declared he meant only to be a spectator of it. So did the old Marshal
de Noailles. There are some men who have attained the highest form of
courage in being able to refuse danger. There are others who fear to
refuse it; others again, who despise it; and a small remnant by whom
the zest of danger can no more be resisted than the drunkard can
re