“Who drew the wood?”

“I, monseigneur,” said the Englishman.

“Very good,” said the Prince de Cadignan, proceeding to take Barry’s report.

Dogs and men became silent and respectful before the Royal Huntsman, as though each recognized his dignity as supreme.  The prince laid out the day’s work; for it is with a hunt as it is with a battle, and the Master of Charles X.’s hounds was the Napoleon of forests.  Thanks to the admirable system which he has introduced into French venery, he was able to turn his thoughts exclusively to the science and strategy of it.  He now quietly assigned a special duty to the Prince de Loudon’s establishment, that of driving the stag to water, when, as he expected, the royal hounds had sent it into the Crown forest which outlined the horizon directly in front of the chateau.  The prince knew well how to soothe the self-love of his old huntsmen by giving them the most arduous part of the work, and also that of the Englishman, whom he employed at his own speciality, affording him a chance to show the fleetness of his horses and dogs in the open.  The two national systems were thus face to face and allowed to do their best under each other’s eyes.

“Does monseigneur wish us to wait any longer?” said La Roulie, respectfully.

“I know what you mean, old friend,” said the prince.  “It is late, but—­”

“Here come the ladies,” said the second whipper-in.

At that moment the cavalcade of sixteen riders was seen to approach at the head of which were the green veils of the four ladies.  Modeste, accompanied by her father, the grand equerry, and La Briere, was in the advance, beside the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse whom the Vicomte de Serizy escorted.  Behind them rode the Duchesse de Chaulieu, flanked by Canalis, on whom she was smiling without a trace of rancor.  When they had reached the open space where the huntsmen with their red coats and brass bugles, surrounded by the hounds, made a picture worthy of Van der Meulen, the Duchesse de Chaulieu, who, in spite of her embonpoint, sat her horse admirably, rode up to Modeste, finding it more for her dignity not to avoid that young person, to whom the evening before she had not said a single word.

When the Master of the Hunt finished his compliments to the ladies on their amazing punctuality, Eleonore deigned to observe the magnificent whip which sparked in Modeste’s little hand, and graciously asked leave to look at it.

“I have never seen anything of the kind more beautiful,” she said, showing it to Diane de Maufrigneuse.  “It is in keeping with its possessor,” she added, returning it to Modeste.

“You must admit, Madame la duchesse,” answered Mademoiselle de La Bastie, with a tender and malicious glance at La Briere, “that it is a rather strange gift from the hand of a future husband.”

“I should take it,” said Madame de Maufrigneuse, “as a declaration of my rights, in remembrance of Louis XIV.”