I was entirely on the defensive for I had no weapons. As he reached out to grasp me, I sprang to one side. Then I turned to run for it. We were somewhat aside of the path and the underbrush was matted and tangled. I made a leap, thinking to get as far from him as possible. My foot caught in a weed or trailing vine which held it as though it were tied there.
In the next second my legs were knocked from under me. I fell forward on my hands and face. Then I got another jolt as though someone were thumping me on the side and shoulders with a heavy log. I could not see, for the undergrowth was sharp and I was forced to close my eyes. A deep grunt and a squeal started near me. A brushing of the weeds and vines followed. Terror crept into my soul for I realized that it was an animal which I had startled and disturbed.
My heart was jumping like a hammer. I rose on one elbow and looked fearfully around. To my amazement and horror, as I scrambled to my feet, I saw a wild boar with its snout to the ground make its way through the underbrush and disappear deeper into the woods.
Then came another surprise. De Marsac was standing as white as a corpse. He seemed to have forgotten me entirely. His eyes were fastened on the direction which the boar had taken. His whole body was moving nervously as though he were greatly excited. From what I had noticed before I knew a fresh thought had started in his mind. Like a flash he was over helping me to my feet.
“Henri,” he called. “You can thank me for saving your life! If I hadn’t warned you in time, you would have been gored to death!”
I made no reply for the thoughts were scared out of me.
“We’ll go home now, Henri,” De Marsac said in a trembling voice.
I went along with him. From the time we left the woods he spoke not a word to me nor did he seem conscious of my presence. There was something brewing in his mind. He continually snapped his fingers as though he was impatient. He muttered under his breath and shook his head in approval of what was stirring in his thoughts.
Once I heard him mumble, “The wild boar. The very thing. We’ll hunt the wild boar.” Again, when he appeared forgetful that I was there, he growled, “It will be an easier way—when we hunt the wild boar.” He laughed confidently to himself. “We’ll start tomorrow—at dawn.” When we came to the gravel path that led to the house, he clapped me on the shoulder.
“Tomorrow will be my lucky day—eh, Henri?” he said.