282' STAG-HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS 



cheval qui vient d'mi pen partont.' From that moment the 

 manager and I understood each other, and we set off together, 

 excellent friends. The manager himself, who sat as he should, 

 was riding a gay little brown horse with a cock-tail, all 

 quality, and quite a stag-hunter. As I watched his gay 

 movement and the vein tracery starting into relief on his 

 clean neck, I made up my mind to swop horses, and so to 

 be quit of the cosmopolitan. After some more slighting 

 remarks upon the Prussian, I explained within the limits 

 of my French that he was riding my sort of horse, and that 

 he ought to have sent him. for me instead of the Teuton. 

 ' But,' objected my companion, ' you said you weighed over one 

 hundred kilos.' This was the telephone guess at my weight 

 made by my representative at the Continental, ' That is 

 so,' I admitted, ' but blood and action carry weight. Can you 

 expect either from "un cheval qui vient d'un peu partout " ? ' 

 He knew quite as well as I did that it was not to be done. 

 And after loyally citing the merits of my mount as a 

 ' cheval de retraite,' an equine type that needed explanation, 

 but which turned out to be a good hack home, he agreed 

 to change horses at the Belle Croix after he had shown 

 the brown horse to a client. The client was not out, so we 

 changed at once. I had a charming ride, which, as he assured 

 me the brown horse was ' parfait pour les dames,' was not 

 to be wondered at. 



The Belle Croix stands high and deserves its name, but 



I will not depict the landscape. ' D n description ; it is 



always disgusting ' — I am sure my readers will agree with 

 Lord Byron. 



After the ceremonies of introduction and compliment, 

 Monsieur Lebaudy invited me to go with him to see the 

 stag unharboured. As I was anxious to see his huntsman 

 Hurvari at work, I very willingly did so. Hurvari, who 

 was for many j^ears the Due d'Aumale's huntsman at 



