ng's amusement out of it, and it was noon before the joyous
_hallili_ of the huntsman's horn proclaimed that the wild pig was
dead.

All the ceremonies of presenting the boar's head were gone through
with before the king, in an open glade in the forest. Although it was
December, the day was mild and the sun warmed the brown earth and the
crystal-clear air. A great fire was built, and from it a royal dinner
was served by a regiment of cooks. The rude tables were covered with
embroidered cloths, and gold and silver plate abounded. It was a feast
worthy of Francis the First. Monsieur Voltaire was at the dinner,
along with others of the guests who did not take part in the hunt; and
the notary's son kept the whole company in a roar with his witticisms.
Francezka was in high spirits, and had the honor of much notice by the
king, by Count Saxe, and Monsieur Voltaire, to say nothing of the
Dukes of Bourbon and Richelieu.

It was two o'clock before the dinner was over, and then the major part
of the company made ready to return to the castle. The word was
quietly passed around, however, that for those who wished real work,
there was an old "solitary" which had been placed, and those who liked
might go after him. The ladies were not informed of this, and when
Count Saxe, and half a dozen others remained, it was supposed that
they would have nothing more dangerous or exciting than another chase
after a _marcassin_. When the cavalcade, including the king, were
riding off, Francezka turned in her saddle, and, looking toward
Gaston, who remained behind, cried:

"Remember, you have but one good arm and part of another one--so,
having so lately got you back, let me not lose you now."

"I promise to take all care," Gaston answered. The look they
exchanged, full of genuine affection, made yesterday's interview seem
dreamlike to me.

There were not more than a dozen of us in this party, including Count
Saxe and Gaston Cheverny. It was not for me to warn Gaston against
what we were about to engage in. Count Saxe gave him a gently civil
intimation of the danger ahead, but Gaston took no note of it, and was
as eager as any one to find the "solitary." We put off into another
part of the forest. I rode by Gaston Cheverny's side, and privately
resolved to remain there. We talked together and I found him more like
the old Gaston than I had yet seen him.

This foolhardy expedition was exactly like Gaston; but when I saw the
quickness of h