“Good,” I said. “Find me two hunters that I can hire for a week.”
The little man looked me up and down with a discriminating eye.
“Something that can carry a bit o' weight, sir, and stand a lot o' 'ard riding; that's what you need, sir.”
Now, I am not heavy, nor had circumstances hitherto given me the opportunity of riding excessively hard, but the notion that I was indeed a gigantic Nimrod tempted my fancy, and I am ashamed to confess that I fell.
“Yes,” I said, “that is exactly what I require.”
“Leave it to me, sir,” he assured me, with great confidence. “I'll make hall the arrangements.” My mind was now easy, and for the two following days I studied all the English novels treating of field sports, and the articles on hunting in the encyclopaedias and almanacs, so that when Thursday arrived and I met my friends at the station I felt myself qualified to take part with some assurance in their arguments on the chase. We are a receptive race, we French, and the few accomplishments we have not actually created we can at least quickly comprehend and master.
Next door to us, in a second-class compartment, Halfred was travelling, and attached to our train was the horse-box containing the two hunters he had engaged. I had had one look at these, and certainly there seemed to be no lack of bone and muscle.