“Cousin, bear-hunting here is a very serious affair, and none but the boldest of the villagers undertake it.  When one of these ferocious animals is killed, it is borne home in triumph, and the victory is celebrated with shouts of joy and traditional ceremonies.  He who kills one of these old northern forest-kings, drives a brass nail in the stock of his gun.  Our peasants have various superstitions about the bear.  They will not pronounce his name aloud for fear of offending him, but style him the ‘old man’ and the ‘grandfather.’  When they have killed one, they ask forgiveness, and speak kindly to him, and beg him to come with them, where he will he gladly welcomed.  All these customs, and many others, which it would be too long to relate, evince the idea of danger attached to the pursuit of the bear.  I do not wish to divert you from a plan, the very danger of which, perhaps, pleases you.  Be prudent, however, my dear Ireneus, and take care of yourself.  I beg you.”

These words were uttered with an accent, the tenderness of which the young officer had not previously remarked.  He looked at Ebba and saw that she was troubled.  A loud laugh, an exclamation of M. de Vermondans, dissipated the vague impression which Ireneus had received.  “Pardon,” said the old man, “women are strange things.  If one yielded to their terrors, the front-door would never be passed, and a gun would be useless.  Because our peasants will not call a bear, should a brave young fellow hang up his gun, and never venture to pursue the animal?  I trust, Ireneus, that you will refute the dreams of this girl by success, and bring me home tomorrow a fine skin, to make a new hearth-rug of.”

Ireneus said, “I have listened to my cousin, but having a sure foot and a quick eye, I shall be rash enough to wait until the bear reaches the muzzle of my gun, or I shall seek him out in his lair.”

Before dawn, on the next day, the young officer, being well armed and equipped, took the field with his two companions.  A servant had arisen to give him breakfast.  Every one else in the house slept.  As, however, he was about to leave the house, Ireneus heard a faint noise on the first story.  He looked up and saw a window.  A white figure advanced to the glass, and then withdrew, as if afraid of being seen.  Doubtless this was Ebba.  Under other circumstances, Ireneus would have called to bid her adieu.  Since the conversation of the evening before, however, Ireneus felt annoyed, when he thought of her, and left without seeming to have seen her.

His guides led him across hills and ravines to a forest some leagues from the village.  When they had reached it, there was an eager discussion between them.