e clangor of trumpets, the shaded path that
skirts the edge of the meadows. Having reached the little bridge, it
stopped; I saw the torches rise, wave, and cast showers of sparks; the
horns sounded a weird and prolonged blast; then suddenly every light
disappeared, every noise ceased, and the valley was again wrapped in the
darkness and the deep silence of the night. That is what I saw and heard.
You who have just arrived from Germany, did you meet the Black Huntsman?
No? Hang yourself, then!

CHAPTER II.

HUNTING A WILD MAN.

_16th September._

The forest which once formed part of the demesnes of the abbey, now
belongs to a wealthy landed proprietor of the district, the Marquis de
Malouet, a lineal descendant of Nimrod, whose chateau seems to be the
social center of the district. There are almost daily at this season grand
hunts in the forest; yesterday, the party ended with a supper on the
grass, and afterward a ride home by torch-light. I felt very much disposed
to strangle the honest miller, who gave me this morning, in vulgar
language, this explanation of my midnight ballad.

There is the world, then, invading with all its pomp my beloved solitude.
I curse it, Paul, with all the bitterness of my heart. I became indebted
to it, last night, it is true, for a fantastic apparition that both
charmed and delighted me; but I am also indebted to it to-day for a
ridiculous adventure which I am the only one not to laugh at, for I was
its unlucky hero.

I was but little disposed to work this morning; I went on sketching,
however, until noon, but had to give it up then; my head was heavy, I felt
dull and disagreeable, I had a vague presentiment of something fatal in
the air. I returned for a moment to the mill to get rid of my traps; I
quarreled, to her surprise and grief, with the miller's wife, on the
subject of I know not what cruelly indigenous mess she had served me for
breakfast; I scolded the good woman's two children because they were
touching my pencils; finally, I administered a vigorous kick to the
house-dog, accompanied with the celebrated formula: "Judge whether you had
done anything to me!"

Rather dissatisfied with myself, as you may imagine, after these three
mean little tricks, I directed my steps toward the forest, in order to
hide as much as possible from the light of the day. I walked about for
nearly an hour without being able to shake off the prophetic melancholy
that oppressed me. Percei