As he had anticipated, the hunt had begun at the first glimmer of light.

For a time his heart beat violently; however, nobody else passed, nothing whatever stirred the grass.

The only sounds that reached him were faint ones from the Bois de Boulogne, the ring of a bicyclist's bell, the thud of a horse's hoofs, the rumble of carriage wheels.

And time went by, nine o'clock came, and then ten o'clock.

Since the rain had ceased falling, Salvat had not suffered so much from the cold, for he was wearing a thick overcoat which little Mathis had given him.