wolf-skin!'

That was enough for us: we flew in for our equipments. My uncle was
not at first willing that we should go; but the merry company now at
his door, the unequivocal countenance which Father Cassimer gave to
the proceeding, and the high spirits of the young Russians, who were,
as usual, wild for the sport, made him think that, after all, there
was no harm in the young people taking an hour or two in the woods
before mass, which on Christmas-eve begins always at midnight. Our
hunting-gear was donned in a trice; and with my uncle's most trusty
man, Metski, to assist in driving, away we went at full speed to the
forest.

Father Cassimer was an experienced general in expeditions of the kind;
he knew the turns of the woods where the wolves scented best; and when
we had got fairly among the tall oaks, down went his pork. For some
time it dragged on without a single wolf appearing, though the odour
came strong and savoury through cords and straw.

'If I were a wolf myself, I would come for that,' said old Metski. The
priest quickened his speed, vowing he would not say mass without a
skin that night; and we got deeper into the wilderness of oak and
pine. Like most of our Lithuanian forests, it had no underwood. There
was ample space for our sledge among the great trees, and the
moonlight fell in a flood of brightness upon their huge white trunks,
and through the frost-covered branches. We could see the long icicles
gleaming like pendants of diamond for miles through the wide woods,
but never a wolf. The priest began to look disappointed; Metski
sympathised with him, for he relished a hunt almost as well as his
reverence; but all the rest, with the help of the Russians, amused
themselves with _making_ game. I have said they were in great spirits,
particularly Count Theodore; indeed he was generally the gayer of the
pair--his sister being evidently the more prudent--and in this respect
they resembled the Lorenskis. Many a jest, however, on the
non-appearance of the wolves went round our sledge, of which I
remember nothing now except that we all laughed till the old wood
rang.

'Be quiet, good children,' said the priest, turning in his seat of
command: 'you make noise enough to frighten all the wolves in
creation.'

'They won't come to-night, father; they are preparing for mass,' cried
Count Theodore. 'Juana, if the old Finn were here now, wouldn't he be
useful?'

'Perhaps he might,' said the countess, with a