Sitting bolt upright, panting on horseback in the yellow green of one of the open woodways, I saw the young officer raise a branch of chestnut and come out.

He walked moodily up to within a yard of my horse, looked up at me, and with an angry stare that grew to be one of astonishment, said, 'Ah?
I think I have had the pleasure--somewhere?
in Wurtemberg, if I recollect.' It was Prince Otto.

I dismounted.

He stood alone.

The spontaneous question on my lips would have been 'Where is she ?' but I was unable to speak a word.
'English ?' he said, patting the horse's neck.
'Yes--the horse?
an English hunter.