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Thaddeus learned that no short time had already passed since the

hounds had entered into the abyss of the forest.

All is quiet-in vain the hunters strain their ears; in vain, as

to the most curious discourse, each hearkens to the silence, and

waits long in his position without moving; only the music of the

forest plays to them from afar. The dogs dive through the forest

as loons beneath the sea; but the sportsmen, turning their

double-barrelled muskets towards the wood, gaze on the Seneschal.

He kneels, and questions the earth with his ear. As in the face

of a physician the eyes of friends read the sentence of life or

death for one who is dear to them, so the sportsmen, confident in

the Seneschal's skill and training, fix upon him glances of hope

and terror. "They are on the track!" he said in a low voice, and

rose to his feet. He had heard it! They were still

listening-finally they too hear; one dog yelps, then two, twenty,

all the hounds at once in a scattered pack catch the scent and

whine; they have struck the trail and howl and bay.