tween us, then it was that the strangest thing of all happened, for I,
too, went mad--I, Etienne Gerard!

In a moment it came upon me, this spirit of sport, this desire to excel,
this hatred of the fox. Accursed animal, should he then defy us? Vile
robber, his hour was come!

Ah, it is a great feeling, this feeling of sport, my friends, this
desire to trample the fox under the hoofs of your horse. I have made
the fox chase with the English. I have also, as I may tell you some day,
fought the box-fight with the Bustler, of Bristol. And I say to you that
this sport is a wonderful thing--full of interest as well as madness.

The farther we went the faster galloped my horse, and soon there were
but three men as near the dogs as I was.

All thought of fear of discovery had vanished. My brain throbbed, my
blood ran hot--only one thing upon earth seemed worth living for, and
that was to overtake this infernal fox. I passed one of the horsemen--a
Hussar like myself. There were only two in front of me now: the one in a
black coat, the other the blue artilleryman whom I had seen at the inn.
His grey whiskers streamed in the wind, but he rode magnificently. For a
mile or more we kept in this order, and then, as we galloped up a steep
slope, my lighter weight brought me to the front.

I passed them both, and when I reached the crown I was riding level with
the little, hard-faced English huntsman.

In front of us were the dogs, and then, a hundred paces beyond them, was
a brown wisp of a thing, the fox itself, stretched to the uttermost. The
sight of him fired my blood. "Aha, we have you then, assassin!" I cried,
and shouted my encouragement to the huntsman. I waved my hand to show
him that there was one upon whom he could rely.

And now there were only the dogs between me and my prey. These dogs,
whose duty it is to point out the game, were now rather a hindrance than
a help to us, for it was hard to know how to pass them. The huntsman
felt the difficulty as much as I, for he rode behind them, and could
make no progress toward the fox. He was a swift rider, but wanting in
enterprise. For my part, I felt that it would be unworthy of the Hussars
of Conflans if I could not overcome such a difficulty as this.

Was Etienne Gerard to be stopped by a herd of fox-dogs?

It was absurd. I gave a shout and spurred my horse.

"Hold hard, sir! Hold hard!" cried the huntsman.

He was uneasy for me, this good old man, but I reassured h