"'Yours, and another's.'
"'Bah! are you mad?'
"'So said your uncle Crysogon. How is he?'
"'Do you not know that he died seven years ago at Morlaix?'
"'Poor fellow!' said the woman, 'like you, he would not believe: at length he beheld, but it was too late.'
"I shuddered involuntarily; but a false shame whispered that it would be cowardly to give way, and that doubtless the fulfillment of the pretended witch's former prediction had been but a chance.
"'Ah! I see that a former experience has not made you wiser, my fine fellow,' said she. 'Well, go to Chateaubriant then, since you must have it so, but at least send back that handsome hunting-knife.'
"'And with what will monsieur cut the stag's foot?' asked the servant who followed me.
"'With your knife,' said the old woman.
"'That stag is a royal animal,' replied the servant, 'and deserves a hunting-knife.'