As the chasseur waved the skin, the piqueurs let the hounds loose, and when they were half-way across the court, approaching the object of their desire, the piqueurs called them back, in order to show how well disciplined and under what complete control they were.
The tantalizing of the poor animals was repeated several times. At last the fanfare was sounded, and the hounds were allowed to rush forward midst the tooting of horns, the cracking of whips, and the cries and shouts of the crowd. The torches were waved high in the air, giving a weird light to the whole scene, and the entrails at last were thrown to the dogs, and before you could say "Jack Robinson" everything was devoured. You can picture to yourself what a unique and fantastic sight this must have been!
It was eleven o'clock when we returned to the salon, where tea and refreshments were served. Those returning to Paris took leave of their Majesties and drove to the station, where the special Imperial train provided for them was waiting.
Later their Majesties took leave of us.
We lingered a little, as it was our last evening.
On returning to my apartment, I saw on my table a package, on which was written, De la part de l'Empereur. You can imagine how eager I was to open it. Those magic words brought untold visions before my eyes. What might it not be?
I opened the package feverishly, and what was my surprise and disappointment to find a rather ordinary-looking tabatière and a package of tobacco, written on it, Du bon tabac pour le maître de chant de Madame Moulton.
Was it not a cruel blow?
November 30th.
Here we are again in Paris, glad to be at home after our gay week in Compiègne, charming and delightful as it was; there is always great fatigue and tension attending such visits. To-day I luxuriate in one dress; no changing five times a day. I allowed my maid to go out for the day, and we are going to dine at a restaurant…. What a contrast! It seems as if I had been away a month!