"But what in the name of heaven is amiss now ?" His companion had hurled himself off his horse, and was stooping low over the ground, with his eyes bent upon the dust.

Then, with quick, noiseless steps, he zigzagged along the road, ran swiftly across a grassy bank, and stood peering at the gap of a fence, with his nostrils dilated, his eyes shining, and his whole face aglow with eagerness.
"The fellow's brain is gone," muttered De Catinat, as he caught at the bridle of the riderless horse.

"The sight of Paris has shaken his wits.
What in the name of the devil ails you, that you should stand glaring there ?" "A deer has passed," whispered the other, pointing down at the grass.
"Its trail lies along there and into the wood.

It could not have been long ago, and there is no slur to the track, so that it was not going fast.

Had we but fetched my gun, we might have followed it, and brought the old man back a side of venison." "For God's sake get on your horse again!" cried De Catinat distractedly.
"I fear that some evil will come upon you ere I get you safe to the Rue St.Martin again!" "And what is wrong now ?" asked Amos Green, swinging himself into the saddle.
"Why, man, these woods are the king's preserves and you speak as coolly of slaying his deer as though you were on the shores of Michigan!" "Preserves! They are tame deer!" An expression of deep disgust passed over his face, and spurring his horse, he galloped onwards at such a pace that De Catinat, after vainly endeavouring to keep up, had to shriek to him to stop.
"It is not usual in this country to ride so madly along the roads," he panted.
"It is a very strange country," cried the stranger, in perplexity.
"Maybe it would be easier for me to remember what _is_ allowed.