throbbed, my blood ran hot--only one thing upon earth seemed
worth living for, and that was to overtake this infernal fox. I
passed one of the horsemen--a Hussar like myself. There were
only two in front of me now: the one in a black coat, the other
the blue artilleryman whom I had seen at the inn. His grey
whiskers streamed in the wind, but he rode magnificently. For a
mile or more we kept in this order, and then, as we galloped up a
steep slope, my lighter weight brought me to the front.

I passed them both, and when I reached the crown I was riding
level with the little, hard-faced English huntsman.

In front of us were the dogs, and then, a hundred paces beyond
them, was a brown wisp of a thing, the fox itself, stretched to
the uttermost. The sight of him fired my blood. "Aha, we have
you then, assassin!" I cried, and shouted my encouragement to the
huntsman. I waved my hand to show him that there was one upon
whom he could rely.

And now there were only the dogs between me and my prey. These
dogs, whose duty it is to point out the game, were now rather a
hindrance than a help to us, for it was hard to know how to pass
them. The huntsman felt the difficulty as much as I, for he rode
behind them, and could make no progress toward the fox. He was a
swift rider, but wanting in enterprise. For my part, I felt that
it would be unworthy of the Hussars of Conflans if I could not
overcome such a difficulty as this.

Was Etienne Gerard to be stopped by a herd of fox-dogs?