“Look,” said Henri to Chicot, “are not those cavaliers that I see there?”

Chicot looked and said, “Yes, sire, cavaliers, but not huntsmen.”

“Why not?”

“Because they are armed like Amadis or Rolando,” replied Chicot.

“Ah! what matters the dress, my dear Chicot? you see we are not particular as to that.”

“But I see at least two hundred men there.”

“Ah! that is a good number.”

Chicot began to feel very curious.  He had really named too low a number, for the group before them consisted of two hundred men, who came silently and joined their party; each man was well armed and mounted, and they were led by a gentleman who came and kissed Henri’s hand with much devotion.

They passed the river Gers, and then came on a second troop of one hundred men; the chief approached, and seemed to be making excuses for not bringing more men.  Henri gave him his hand.  They went on till they came to the Garonne; this they also passed, and about half a league on the other side, three hundred cavaliers, hidden in a pine forest, suddenly came in sight.

“Oh! monseigneur,” said Chicot, “are not these enemies who have heard of your chase, and wish to oppose it?”

“No, my son, you are wrong; they are friends from Puzmirol.”

“Mordieu! sire, you will have more men in your escort than trees in your forest.”

“Chicot, I really believe the news of your arrival must have spread through the country, and all these people have come to welcome the ambassador from France.”

Chicot saw he was being laughed at, and felt rather offended.

The day finished at Muroy, where the gentlemen of the country gave a grand supper to the king, of which Chicot took his part enthusiastically, as it had not been deemed necessary to stop on the road for anything so unimportant as dinner, and he had eaten nothing since he had left Nerac.

Henri had the best house in the town, half the troop slept within doors, the other half in the street where the king was.

“When are we to begin the hunt?” asked Chicot of Henri, as he was undressing.

“We are not yet in the territory of the wolves, my dear Chicot.”

“And when shall we be?”

“Curious!”

“Not so, sire; but you understand, one likes to know where one is going.”

“You will know to-morrow; meanwhile, lie down there on those cushions on my left; here is Mornay snoring already at my right.”

“Peste!” said Chicot, “he makes more noise asleep than awake.”

“It is true he is not very talkative; but see him at the chase.”

Day had partly appeared, when a great noise of horses awoke Chicot.  They dressed, drank some spiced wine, and took other refreshment, and then Henri cried: 

“To horse! gentlemen, we have a long day’s work before us.”

Chicot saw with astonishment that five hundred cavaliers had swelled the train during the night.