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Luckily no one noticed this, for the conversation, which hitherto

had been lively and animated, but fairly orderly, ended in a

sudden clamorous outburst. As, when foxhunters are entering a

wood, one hears from time to time the crackling of trees,

scattered shots, and the baying of the pack; but then the master

of the hounds unexpectedly starts the game; he gives the signal,

and a hubbub arises in the throng of huntsmen and dogs, as if

every tree of the thicket had found a voice: such is the case

with conversation-it moves on slowly, until it happens on a

weighty topic, as dogs on the game. The game of the hunters' talk

was that furious dispute of the Notary and the Assessor over

their famous hounds. It lasted only a short time, but they

accomplished much in a single instant, for in one breath they

hurled so many words and insults that they exhausted the usual

three-fourths of a dispute-taunts, anger, and challenge-and were

already getting ready to use their fists.