216 WOLF-HUNTING. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THAT last was a grand day at Kilvern, and gave, both by the 

 sport and its result, unqualified satisfaction to the peasants of the 

 district ; but it was a long and a heavy one, and we did not 

 reach Carhaix before ten o'clock that night- a late hour, con- 

 sidering the work done by the hounds and the brief rest enjoyed 

 by the chasseurs, by night and day, during the whole of the past 

 week. 



" I feel as if I could sleep for a fortnight,'' said Keryfan, rising 

 from a table that, by its debris of bones and bottles, bore witness 

 to a vast demolition of cutlets and La Rose claret ; and, seizing 

 his candle, he begged hard that the usual le reveil might not be 

 sounded on the morrow morn, at least within the walls of the 

 Hotel d'Auvergne. 



" What ! own yourself beaten, Keryfan ?" said Shafto, always 

 ready and fresh either for sport or badinage. " Well, I little 

 thought to have heard such a confession from a man whom I 

 have hitherto regarded as the Paladin of Breton chasseurs." 



" Can't help it," said Keryfan, yawning. " I've worked hard 

 and fed well, and feel just now more like a python than a man, so 

 must have my whack of sleep, and then to work again." 



Hereupon interposed Marseillier, the ever-obliging host, who 

 promised to do his best to keep the house quiet, but reminded 

 Keryfan that, the following day being Sunday, all Carhaix would 



