adame while I am scouring
the woods? You must take me for a very careless husband, Vicomte. Now,
then, right about face! March! Do me the kindness to take a gun. We are
going to shoot a few hares in the Corne woods before supper."

"Monsieur de Bergenheim," exclaimed the old lady, when her emotion would
allow her to speak, "this is indecorous--vulgar--the conduct of a common
soldier--of a cannibal! My head is split open; I am sure to have an awful
neuralgia in a quarter of an hour. It is the conduct of a herdsman."

"Do not think of your neuralgia, my dear aunt," replied Christian, whose
good-humor seemed aroused by the day's sport; "you are as fresh as a
rosebud--and Constance shall have some hares' heads roasted for her
supper."

At this moment a second uproar was heard in the courtyard; a horn was
evidently being played by an amateur, accompanied by the confused yelps
and barks of a numerous pack of hounds; the whole was mingled with shouts
of laughter, the cracking of whips, and clamors of all kinds. In the
midst of this racket, a cry, more piercing than the others, rang out, a
cry of agony and despair.

"Constance!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, in a falsetto voice
full of terror; she rushed to one of the windows and all followed her.

The spectacle in the courtyard was as noisy as it was picturesque.
Marillac, seated upon a bench, was blowing upon a trumpet, trying to play
the waltz from Robert-le-Diable in a true infernal manner. At his feet
were seven or eight hunters and as many servants encouraging him by their
shouts. The Baron's pack of hounds, of great renown in the country, was
composed of about forty dogs, all branded upon their right thighs with
the Bergenheim coat-of-arms. From time immemorial, the chateau's dogs had
been branded thus with their master's crest, and Christian, who was a
great stickler for old customs, had taken care not to drop this one. This
feudal sign had probably acted upon the morals of the pack, for it was
impossible to find, within twenty leagues, a collection of more snarly
terriers, dissolute hounds, ugly bloodhounds, or more quarrelsome
greyhounds. They were perfect hunters, but it seemed as if, on account of
their being dogs of quality, all vices were permitted them.

In the midst of this horde, without respect for law or order, the
unfortunate Constance had found herself after crossing the ante-chamber,
vestibule, and outside steps, still pursued by the sounds fr